every time i drive by the road she lives on, i scream in the car "i'm sorry i'm sleeping with your boyfriend!" makes me feel less whore-y.
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
I don't not like him. It's just wierd talking to him because we both know I fucked his wife.
I feel the need to clarify that I did not show her my vagina.
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But fine, we can play that game. You can come over and we can have totally platonic, long, boring discussions. Or we can fuck. Whatever.
There are twenty thousand men on this campus, please have sex with someone who isn't my drug dealer
If I come back tomorrow to find a certain football player tied up and locked in your closet, shit's gonna get real.
I'll set him free tomorrow morning ;)
Dude. If I met a dinosaur right now. we'd totally be on the same page. Brainwaves and shit.
I have just been informed that my company has ray guns. I WORK FOR ACTUAL BOND VILLAINS. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
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When you have to have Siri remind you that you're on your period cuz you're so drunk you keep forgetting about tampons it might be time to call it a night.
If TJ is short for Trader Joe, I'm gonna fuck him
I caught myself caressing my own hand while nurturing a glass of bourbon. I think it's time to get back out there.
Death by dick. An honorable death. Put a picture of his dick in the photo collage at my funeral.
Like pizza and mermaids make up about 1/3 of my thoughts on the weekends.
Note to self, the correct response when a guy tells you he likes you as a person is not "ew"
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