I murdered the dance floor call the cops
at some point when you're making out with the ex girlfriend of your ex fuck buddy who happens to be the ex boyfriend of the girl that you just got drunk with who was hitting on your current fuck buddy who is best friends with your ex boyfriend, it just hits you: oh my god i need to get out more and expand my social circle.
you got so mad from losing a game of beerpong that you went into another room by yourself and practiced for an hour and a half.
You got kicked out of the strip club for spilling a tall boy on the stage and when the bouncers came to take you out you told them that they should probably go clean up your pee in the back corner cause they didn't seem to notice that
i woke up in his bed to a "teach your baby to read" infomercial. i pray to GOD that's not a sign
I guess I'm in a committed relationship. We just had shot 1 of 3 of Gardasil. I'm now dead inside.
The trashcan full of everclear punch caught on fire...you should probably come home now.
The date officially concluded on the phrase "Nosh dat vag".
Had a guy offer me a shot. But he wimped out when I asked for tequila and instead ordered gummi bear shots. I don't think he has balls. I didn't stick around to find out.
By cross-referencing our messages & her Twitter feed, I've deduced that she was eating spaghetti the whole time we were sexting.
That's the 2nd med student that has had his tongue in my butthole, what gives.
Is there something wrong with us? Seriously.
Possibly, but I'd rather not fix it.
I need to learn how to not be a fucking liability
Can't talk, ducks in the car
is 250 jello shots considered an open container?
Randomize
