Who would have guessed that ordering a vodka lemonade at Roscoe's was code for I want a hand job
Just got roadhead while going 95. I came for a mile and a half.
Either you made a spaghetti vodka smoothie last night, or you puked in the blender.
I just remembered that he had fake blood all over his face last night. I woke up with it all over my dick. He was 50. Please don't judge me.
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No. Mother. Fucking. Jello shots. Just no. I'm not falling into that trap again.
rigging a system to keep my jello shots cold in class. important election day work.
I'm still pretty drunk right now, but when this hangover hits me, I'm going to be super pissed. It's a preemptive never drinking again.
And literally 4loko margaritas are callin my name. They're like "Hey girl come on over here I'll make you forget about grades and boys and it'll be a good idea to send everyone 55 snapchats of your cleavage" ok
I'm ashamed and embarrassed. Unless we get drunk and have random sex with people we will never see again we might lose ourselves.
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It was like a Thanksgiving meal, which you spend 8 hours cooking, and the family wolfs down in 20 minutes. All that flirting and build-up for like 90 seconds of pumping and he was gone in a flash, never to be heard from again.
the manischevitz sangria was a big hit
He offered me handsanitizer after a hand job, you can't tell me he's not perfect!
I just rolled a blunt and took my bra off. I'm not going anywhere.
It's volleyball. Just do it. You want to look sporty. Save sexy librarian for another day.
Turns out my mom didn't really want to know I was in a new dimension last night from smoking so much.
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