The only thing I have to prove last night happened is a fireman's hat full of puke.
Its a long story, but I have superglue on my tongue
how should i go about explaining the hickey i drunkenly gave myself last night?
he spent like 10 minutes trying to convince us that he was throwing up in the bushes on purpose in order to cut weight for wrestling
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Not sure how I feel about St Psts and March Madness being on the same weekend. I feel like I've been screwed out of a drunk holiday.
Im gunna just be that one ballerina in the low V leopard thong leotard and everyone else can be boring and prude with their little pink tights on.
I really couldn't care less what she looks like. That's why The Lord Our God gave us doggy-style.
I don't question myself. That's what I have you for.
I'm honored.
I just wish my penis was a person so I could give him a high five.
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I just found a To Do list on the table, written by me last night, that just says "1. Go downstairs. 2. Get Pickles. 3. Laptop"
The only time we had a decent conversation was when he was on acid, and, like, that's not a great start to a relationship.
My relationship: I'm wearing batman panties and a tiara right now trying to get laid and he's doing dishes.
He seemed genuinely disappointed when I told him I wasn't going to make out with him to Bring Me To Life by Evanescence so I feel like I've pinpointed the breaking point of this relationship
The magnum condom fits. I feel like a manly version of cinderella
I may have just got motorboated by a male stripper who told me I should be a porn star and not a vet student.
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