please keep texting me so i can pretend someone likes me
I asked you if you were ok and you said "dude I'm fine, I'm in the recovery position"
He dropped me off at 4 in the morning because I made fun of Pearl Jam..
I just found a video on my phone from last night of you yelling, "you can't fuck me!" at least 20 times
The cop told me to answer for everyone if there was drinking involved and then i threw up in my Luigi's italian ice that i was eating with a pizza slicer
You refused to get in the cab so we rock paper scissored to decide who walked you home and the fat guy was it. So don't blame your poor hook-up choice on me; it was all you.
And my cat won't make me food. She's a bitch
Drunk me forgot I'm not an 18yr old raver anymore. Adult me is now in pain.
My pubes were yanked out by the root when they got caught in the condom. I think it's time for a bikini wax.
Gym?
Sweet baby Jebus, no. I'm Motley Crue hungover. This must be how it feels to rail a line of ants.
The cougar has a calendar on her wall of when she can give topless handjobs again. I pity her husband.
I have never fucking hated the horrible sound of dozens of off-key recorders BLARING their fucked rendition of "Fais Do-Do" in unison against the screams of an adult male... more than I do now. This is why people avoid teaching. Kill me. End it all.
side note: on a scale of 1-10, how bad an idea is it to hook up with 9 cats guy?
We have a great relationship based on communication, sex, and mutual loathing.
Twas still the Saturday before Christmas \nAnd it’s still fucking snowing\nAnd Steve wished he slowed down \nOn all the fucking drinking
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