To answer your question of whether I "went back," tits just informed me I was kicked out for falling off my barstool and passing out on the floor...
can you pick up canola oil? she lives by wegmans
who is canola oil?
you're an idiot.
let's makeout let's makeout let's make out let's make out
Lesson learned: don't hide your vodka in your little brothers toy box.
College is just filling the gap until I get a rich girl pregnant
a girl is trying to cook hot pockets in a saute pan on the stove.
That girl you went home with last night was dressed in a bright blue sweats at the bar. 205lb Smurffete FTL. Boy were you in epic form.
I feel like vodka or no vodka, you'd still be trying to button your cat into your comforter
Next thing I know we're all standing in the kitchen holding hands and thanking God for the beer.
Remember when we pinky swore we'd never feel hungover alone...
Dude you made a rodeo shot in beer pong won the game then got in the hot tub poured beer all over the side and screamed "hot tub time machine!"...
This hangover makes more sense now
I've already reverted to sweat pants. And lonely drinking.
There was probably a tattoo above her soulless vagina that read 'it's a trap!' Yet you ignored it
He gave me the "find somebody who wants to date you for who you are" speech while I walked around the house asking people for pants.
Yes. With one-hundred percent positivity I can say yes, I do not want you covered in waffles and syrup when I come home.
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