I'm calling you out on twitter if you don't come over right now.
I will show your tits more attention than Michael Jackson's death.
i failed horribly. studying for that final was as pointless as Vinnie is to Jersey Shore
It was like fucking a house. Down the chimney. That deep and empty.
Woke up with an epic boner today, the kind where you can spin books and shit on it. FYI: don't try spinning an encyclopedia
at russian wedding, no open bar. bottles of vodka at table. getting to work tomorrow may be an issue.
Listen. I'm a changed woman. I have no problem using him for sex.
We found him sitting in a beach chair in the basement storage room passed out. Idk if we should move him or pass the bowl around.
You made her yell her own name while you were fucking so that you would remember it in the morning.
Just realized I probably only have one more wedding where I can say I fucked the bride.
The only times girls talk to me at clubs is when they're asking if I'm okay when I'm puking outside. Or if it's a tranny
i definitely signed you up to receive text message notifications from a jukebox last night. Not even sorry.
This morning, I found 5 naked people in Steve's bed with post sex hair, and Steve fully clothed sleeping on the ground.
Pretty sure I'm partying in a onesie right now.
I feel like you're encouraging me to commit a felony.
I feel like you're wasting time.
Randomize
