then you asked me to turn your jeans into "jorts" just long enough to cover your ballsack
I left when they started reinacting what appeared to be a jerry springer episode
I am not one to point fingers but since it says your name "wuz here" next to the dick drawn on my stomach I am holding you personally responsible.
I'm finding that as the end of the quarter approaches, the list of things I refuse to do sober keeps getting longer.
Ok, maybe I don't want to know what happened last night... But somehow I guess I moved the oven.
I threw up sweet potatoes. Worst thing to throw up ever. They came back mashed.
Idk he's just laying there passed out with a French fry up his nose and without any pants on. Boner and everything.
When we asked you how you got there you replied in all seriousness, "rode my legs"
Just woke up with an eye that wont open, a half eaten piece of pizza on my chest and a raging boner.
And then you asked me why my legs were so thick and started measuring them with a ruler
You gave me a bottle of tequila and introduced me to a ginger named cowboy. I actually love you.
not only did u rap a voicemail to me last night.... but it lasted so long that it cut you off so you called back to finish..... never do this again
Im sober enough to understand what people are saying but drunk enough to understand its hilarious
one week and then i'm back on the sexual grind. a party is being planned in my vagina's honor
Of course my parents remember you. You showed them your tits
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