Hey, It's Lauren. i wanted to talk to you tonight. I like you, as you know because kyle told you. I was wondering if you liked me too?
Are you in the third fucking grade? Check yes or no.
I'm outside your house...sorry I feel like I don't need formal invites anymore.
I fucking love fucking science majors-- she told me that she wanted to know if her gag reflex got better or worse with alcohol, and that her initial evidence had been inconclusive. So, next few weeks, yeah, gettin blown periodically. All I have to do is keep a log.
No, he will live forever, like cockroaches and Jack Bauer.
At first I was confused when I woke up with shards of glass and pickle brine in my pants. But then I remembered I hung out with you last night.
It was an awkward 3some. I took her from behind while he just made out with her.
I seriously just found a rose petal in my vagina.
Is this like a "I'm taking you out to dinner and treating you with respect" kind of date, or is this a "I'm gonna fill you with alcohol and cheese and stuff my dick in your anus" kind of date?
When people ask about my bruises, I'm just going to say it was a doorknob. Or possibly a group of doorknobs. Angry doorknobs.
There are reggae songs being written about me...where have I gone wrong in life?
PLEASE. I won't throw up on the floor this time. Or fuck in the bathroom. Or dance on the pool table. So PLEASE.
So I got drunk last night and attempted to shave a landing strip on my vag. I now have a 8 lane highway on my crotch now. Just looks like a random ass square.
My boss doesn't know what jello shots are. I've lost faith in this company.
Life's hard when you can't differentiate between retrograde and PMS
All I wanted was a good weekend full of booze, laughs, and maybe some penis. Instead, someone is in the hospital, I didn't sleep at all last night. And not because I got laid.
Randomize
