Okay so if I'm going to keep referring to my hangover in the third person it needs a name.
Being back home for the summer opens up so many opportunities to have sex without increasing my number
toilet paper cling ons are not as adorable as the little red cub makes them look on the charmin commercials.
Man the liquor store just wrong numbered me, its a sign even god wants me to drink
The night started going down hill when she shot the cashier in the face with the confetti gun we bought at 711.
He was a bulldog and my face was like rare meat. Never again with the drunken ones.
The neighborhood kids rang the doorbell in the middle of my first bong rip to ask if they could use my trampoline for the thirtieth time today...I opened the door and pretended to puke up a shitload of smoke, I have never seen a more terrified group of children
high as fuck. watching parent trap with my mom. keep missing my mouth.
hes out at the street wearing a tophat and a monocole and carrying a cane and greeting every car that drives by
he just went across the street and into someones house and we could hear him inviting them over from the front porch
Ok. So let me get this straight. She treats her vagina like a clown car, yet judges me for just making out with the guy that bought all of us shots?
I can't turn off my feet"
I sent her a picture of Richard Nixon and said "these are the only dick pics I send".
I smell like a skunk, but I'm okay with that.
yeah, but I wanna be the girl that makes him realize he's 100% gay
I'm licking blood from my knuckles and I still haven't found my car keys..are you in town tonight?
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