Barsexuality is the new black.
The parties out here are fucking awesome and I've got the grades to prove it.
There is a different car in my driveway. Have no clue how I got home.
Should I feel bad that my boyfriend pays for my birth control and his friends get to reap the benefits?
She just passive-aggressively stripped in the kitchen while humming the theme to Doug.
If after tonight I can still walk on my own, take me to another bar.
My mom just looked at me while watching the fireworks and asked if it reminded me of how I felt after sex. I'm so uncomfortable.
There's always a certain something about a day that begins with your panties in your purse.
I took her to the bar and boom. All of my past slump busters were there. Shes cool enough to know what that means and said she was afraid they'd eat her so we left.
Officially drug you out of White Castle last night by the hood on your sweatshirt after you cussed out the attendant and stole the satisfaction guaranteed sign because they were closed!
And then we felt it necessary to continue drinking for another 4 hours, yikes
I'm the catering manager, it's not my job to stop 2 teenagers from fucking in the bathroom. I couldn't bring myself to stop that sort of young romance anyway, that's what I pay you people for
Whatever you have to do, STALL THEM. Your toothbrush is in the kitchen, my pants are on the balcony, and I don't have eyebrows.
I rewarded myself with Taco Bell tonight for going a full week without punching my roommates in the face or wishing bodily harm on them.
I was cock-blocked by a swat team last night.
It’s like a sexy version of those choose your own adventure books from when we were kids. No matter what you choose, there will be penis!
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