I woke up to him climbing naked through my bedroom window with a bottle of jd in his hand. Of course I had sex with him.
There is a mirror in the headboard of the bed that I'm sleeping in so I can immediately question life choices when I wake up.
making an indian outfit so we can be pochohantas and john smith and fuck in the canoe on the night float
I'm sorry I murdered your sperm with my alcohol saturated Olympic uterus.
If it snows I'm just gonna sit at my house in my costume and drink beer by myself all night.
Note to self: Don't go home with a recent divorcee. Semen and tears.
Found a popcorn kernel in my pubes... Time fir a Brazilian
Fuck these runners passing me on campus as I'm waking to dinner. With my huggie. With flavored vodka and rum. Aka yum
He called me baby cakes during sex... Can U not
Sara can't come to the phone right now. She's currently having an in-depth conversation with a flower pot.
I'm talking to a corgi on tinder..wtf has my life come to
Get the fuck in, we're going to Taco Bell.
dude pick up your phone
i cant. im high and theres a wild turkey in my backyard. wouldnt miss this moment for anything
Reminder to self: never have sex on a trampoline. Trampoline burn hurts worse than carpet burn.
This is your post bachelor party survival text. This a free and complementary service to make sure you are still alive. For alive, say yes. For hurting, say ugh. If lost, say help. If dead, please feel free to not respond. Thank you and we hope you enjoyed the party.
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