yeah well you didnt even puke from the alcohol. we cut you off and went to huck finn's and told you that the "irish cream" coffee creamers had baileys in it, so you shot down like eight of them and puked all over the floor. it was great. we cheered you on and everything
Her vagina felt like a horse was eating an apple out of my hand..
are you looking for your table cloth? Cause I found it around my neck this morning...
I just want to go some place where I can have a nice night. Grind on men who speak no English, make out with a girl, and not feel judged.
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I think "banned from Amtrak due to excessive projectile vomiting" would sum up the evening quite nicely.
Well if it makes you feel any better I threw up at Roadhouse. And then on the way to the train. And then in a water fountain. And then in a plastic bag on the train.
Depending on hangover severity. The fact that I can spell severity is in your favor.
When it gets to the point that I'm more comfortable being naked at his house than my own, it's time to readdress the fuckbuddyship.
If she were to ever cheat on her husband, I'm positive I'm the the go to guy. Which flatters me and weirds me out at the same time.
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I feel the need to send all my exes pictures of penises larger than theirs. Because they all must suffer.
You brought us all personal gifts you had stolen from the party and bellowed "hoes hoes hoes, clepto Santa loves you"
It's a little weird that I'm blowing my wingman.
Oh Jesus. Are you going to the hospital?
No I'm showering then leaving for Vegas
I feel like I'm in a development meeting for a Lifetime original movie.
I should have known it wouldn’t work. Someone saved in her phone as “Subway Sex” called the week before the wedding
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