M and I are hungry and we are making your pizza in the fridge. But you're having sex and we're not so we dont feel bad.
You took my girl thats shot the Fuck out. You better watch your skinny ass.
That's barely a sentence. Who's your girl? I think you've got the wrong number. I haven't even lived in Alabama for 4 years.
Yeah, I do, I'm sorry. I meant 205 not 256. sorry about that.
Good luck with your revenge in Birmingham.
Wearing a Sarah Lawrence sweatshirt is like wearing a shirt that says, "I'm getting a degree in substitute teaching."
it went kinda like vodka, childhood memories, screaming/cursing, fist fight, tears, broken shit, passing out. in that order. tis the season.
Only your vagina holds the key to what happened last night.
Just had to explain my "wine me. Dine me. Sixty-nine me" key chain to my grandma...she took it surprisingly well.
Just got a voicemail from a guy referring tp himself "as chest hair guy". If I'm coming home to a intervention I understand.
Porch rule of tonight: when you sing, you must use "something" as a microphone. The person to use the most "creative" object gets the door prize...so far Stephie is winning with Jennifer's dog.
We broke up in downtown Nashville with drunken, blow up penis waving bachelorette parties walking by. For some reason I can see this ending up as a country music video.
We shot off some fireworks at 12 and then I orchestrated the group singing of god bless the USA all while wearing a don't tread on me flag as a cape. I repped hard.
Which one of you drunk assholes put a parental lock on my cable box last night? More importantly, what's the pin? I'm missing the UK game.
He told me I smelled like peanut butter, pepperoni, and pure unbrieldled passion.
My New Year's resolution is to chill out on the group sex. At least with my friends anyway.
She looked like a cross between Jesus and John Lennon. So I fucked her. I feel majestic and powerful.
I still dont see how i drunkenly impressed your mom
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