So what's the moral of this story? Aside from 'lesbians hold grudges'?
All I remember from my 21st is crying because the bouncer made him put his shirt back on
I just spiked the applesauce. Try to tell me again your party is better.
In the ER. 2nd degree burns. Drunken attempt to make gasoline scented candles.
Just ate a whole pizza by myself. Wearing my indian headdress again. its really cool with the french braids. I look like fucking pocahontas or some shit.
we found you in the kitchen at five am trying to make a vodka omelette. you said you didn't want to live in a world where your two favourite things couldn't be together.
You need to come back and help me drink our beer so the fridge has room for the other beers
You know you're baked when you feel your throat closing up from an allergic reaction to the pecans in the cookie you're eating but you keep eating the damn cookie.
So are you actually going to come fuck me in the ass this weekend, or was that just you being drunk in a kilt?
Can we just focus for a minute on the fact that I HAD MY FIRST LESBIAN ENCOUNTER.
Right. How rude of me to inform you that you're going to be an aunt.
She had a glow in the dark pastie on her forehead the last time I saw her. That should help you find her.
It is a bad day indeed when you learn that your boy toy looks better in your dresses than you do
If I had a dick, I'd stick it in some Oreo pancakes
I couldn't break up with him while I was wearing a Hakuna Matata shirt.
I use my feet as sexual weapons
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