So I was throwing up in this fancy toilet at a party last night, when he decided it would be funny to flush it. It was a beday. I had to walk out with toilet water and regurgitated rumpleminze all over my face and shirt.
I mean we're not committed. He's my first choice, sort of like miller lite. When I'm at the bar I'm going to order one, but if they don't maybe I'll go for a bud or blue moon. I'm certainly not going to stop drinking
apparently when the FedEx truck drove by, we tried to chase it down thinking they were delievering a 30 pack...great night.
Idk. I woke up marinating in beer on my beanbag. Idk what you mightve done.
Dude, just look at these fucking curtains and chill out.
Just heard the words 'Pussy Riot' on NPR...I almost crashed my car.
I'm gonna cougar town the shit out of that prom.
I just made an agreement with this milf to shoot her daughters wedding in exchange for blow jobs. Going pro was the best choice I ever made.
hot boxing the bathroom at chili's. where the fuck are you, it's too big of a box for just one person.
You don't know commitment until you try and waterproof a non-waterproof vibrator
I'm going to start referring to my liver is Livy. I feel like if I give it an affectionate nickname it will hate me less. Livy isn't ready for syllabus week.
I think we all know your liver needs a man's name.
I found all these half eaten mandarin orange on the ground and the bruises on my neck are definetely not hickies
That time we were having sex when you were super drunk, I kept yelling out, "Oh God," and you said, "You're going to need him after this." Idk why I suddenly thought of that.
we just got sex advice from a midget. You better fucking get here.
Yep, you're going to hell.
I take on this great possibility with a beer in one hand and the girl I'm gonna fuck later in the other
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