The last thing I remeber was convincing you to hide in the fridge, and then taking everything out and you not fitting.
What a whore. She reminds me of that asian guy who can eat all the hotdogs.
She just tagged pictures of you wrapped in the "above the influence banner" like a toga.
You showed up at my apartment after 3 am wasted with a plate of cookies and tried to hook up.
Sorry about that. Except for the cookies.
He drives a BMW. I have to fuck him. Girl Code Rule #26.
why is my new profile picture on Facebook one of me with a bunch of strangers on an elevator?
The last thing I remember is teaching our waffle house waitress to do the stanky leg and promising the grill cook we would come see him at his other job.
Does this mean I don't have to apologize for launching about 20 bead necklaces at you from the balcony?
Besides. I don't even really like sex because it feels great. I like it because for thirty minutes I own that guys ass.
Dear lord though. So much glitter. It's just a big gay explosion and all of my whore muscles hurt.
Two days later and my throat is still sore. That bong is a double edged sword.
I hope you get stoned and think that you're a seal in shark infested waters
NOT ALL OF US HAVE THE HANDS OF GODDAMN ANGELS YOU KNOW
So, looks like I managed to leave my bra in the boardroom after all the sex. FML.
Instead of going to my moms birthday party I went over and gave him head. I should win non girlfriend of the year award
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