Okay so if I'm going to keep referring to my hangover in the third person it needs a name.
He kept referring to his penis a his "love gun"
when I picked him up he smelled like cheeseburgers, had a bite mark around his left nipple and we think someone stabbed him in the forehead with a pencil... it was like the Hangover meets Texas Chainsaw Massacre
She was perfectly content just sitting in the middle of everyone blowing bubbles in the air.
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One of two things would happen: He'd love it, or you'd get a restraining order.
There were slices of bread pasted to the wall with peanut butter this morning. I don't want to know
It was a legit night tell he threw a snowball in the bar, thats when I knew it was time to go to the next bar.
I'm confused are we getting high or did someone actually die?
IF I CAN STICK YOUR DICK IN MY MOUTH, I CAN STICK MY GUM ON YOUR NIGHTSTAND.
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Where did this racoon skin hat, stop sign and bag full of tacos come from?
Narnia or $5 pitcher night either way
I love 4am trips to the ER. I feel so responsible for actually making it all the way here.
It was marvelous. I was drunkenly conversing with my professor in some of the best Spanish I've ever spoken.
Thanks for the bagel and the sex.
It's a race to see if I finish the bottle first or my homework
Who the hell tries to steal eggnog.
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