I was staring at you from my window across the quad. I wanted to let you know so it's not creepy
foreplay: 7 minutes. sex: 3 minutes. cuddling: 10 minutes. getting dressed: 5 minutes. commute: 5 minutes.
i woke up with a grocery list signed by "the people who ate all your shit while you were passed out"
I even resorted to pole dancing with the street sign. I have an extra $20 now because I think people were paying me to leave.
All I remember is doing a naked tuck and roll of your bed.
I've gotta stop getting kicked out of bars for fighting with people over the accuracy of the Harry Potter movie.
I totally just potholed and almost crashed while trying to lick salsa off my boob.
Nothing says I'll be 22 tomorrow like washing the vomit out of your hair at 4pm
Are you still going to come over for your post Alcoholics Anonymous beer?
You left me a voice message at 5 a.m. It was mostly incoherent noise, you screaming my name and then something about a man with two butt holes...
I didn't want to see any of his nipples and now I've seen all three. Thanks.
Tomorrow's Mother's Day and the only thing I can afford is beer and the McDonalds dollar menu. Do you think a Budweiser and a Big Mac says thank you for me fucking up your life since 1990?
I'm on the couch watching HGTV googling giant boob Halloween costumes so life is swell
I'm sitting at my kitchen table alone dressed as a dinosaur smoking bowls in the dark. Is this rock bottom? Or is this living the dream? Who's to say
Drunk is a universal language darling
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