I had a dream last night that I had to pretend I liked Dave Matthews Band to impress this girl I was talking to.
I guess it was more of a nightmare.
The pregnant Hooters waitress told me to "make good choices".
i'm out of college. that means no more sex on a twin bed. ever. i don't care how big his dick was. i'm classy like that.
I was fine until "Under Pressure" came on the radio. It's like God wanted me to shit my pants on the drive home.
I'm sitting at home, day drinking, while watching crossroads with brittany spears. I'm not the person you should be asking for advice right now.
we were sitting on his couch watching tv and laughing at how funny the voices on the commercial were, then we realized the volume wasn't on.
Hey that girl we tagged team last night invited me to her birthday on Facebook, remind me to be sick that day.
I don't feel bad about fucking old guys. That's what I want. It's what I likeeeeee.
Maybe it's because I walked straight up to that shelf of vodka with a look of determination that said "I mean business".
I usually have to have a cart! If that doesn't say "I mean business" then I don't know what does
Nipple rings and loofahs DO NOT mix.
At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if he laughs at all of our attempts to keep him sober.
Apparently walking into a national conference and proclaiming "i'm here to fuck shit up" is frowned upon.
Who knew?
I promised her before I left that I'd make good choices and then got drunk and fucked my best friend and her boyfriend.
Last night you were throwing up in my toilet singing "all by myself."
the person she was housesitting for had a christmas card from charlie sheen on the fridge so we fucked on the couch and just slept in the bed
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