That fat broad you banged out last night is still here and I can hear her snoring through the living room wall. I would leave, but I don't want to come home to an empty fridge.
I love you. And by the way. I found out a way for you to train your gag reflex. Elliot taught us in math.
imagine playing with puppies while we're drunk.
Like... we could film it and put like, "do you believe in magic" as the backround song and it would be complete joy.
Its as if he has to do the exact opposite of what I tell him. Don't come in my eye, pfshh it's in my eye. Don't come on the cat, pfshh it's on the cat.
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So am I a slut for not remembering his name after sex last night or not recognizing him in the cafe today after he told me who he was?
I woke up to blood crusted on my face. I don't understand
team rage. no explanation necessary
So I just learned that my father was teaching me rules for drinking games when I was 5.
When I start puking tomorrow, just let me be. it'll start around 8:35. just let me heave. i love this part of my morning.
I am VERY upset that you called my fiesta a waste of time.
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Be ready for a dog pile. On your head. With my ass.
After you threw up you would repeatedly say "napkin" like a siren until somebody got you a fucking napkin.
I'd like to believe that in some alternate universe we are living this wonderful lesbian life together..
I called him a "Beautiful Bastard" with "Beautiful Bastard Hair". That is how you pick up a guy from Denmark.
I saw a drunk guy run across the street with an American flag between his buttcheeks.
Also we're getting drunk and sledding down Caroline street. See you soon.
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