Your mouth is God's brothel.
ur plase or mine? lol
well if you don't learn how to spell, you may be at your place and I'll be at mine.
and pubic hair rears its ugly head again
picked up a girl by parallel parking. i love this town already.
Walking back from greek row alone at 3:30am in a child's kangaroo suit...not my proudest moment
My glasses are somewhere in your living room. Also, my underwear might be in your bathroom or on or around your porch. Sorry.
i left the icescrapper in his bathroom. i dont remember taking it there, but i remember brushing his hair with it.
You were in subway at 3am showing everyone your tan lines
You did a line of free coke with an obese Slovenian unlicensed cab driver in the toilets of the most questionable strip club in the country. New low man.
When you put it like that, I'm inclined to agree.
It's not a real holiday until someone pees on you. Did someone pee on you?
Maybe if he'd step up his game and get a real job instead of donating plasma and trying to grow pot then you wouldn't feel compelled to write prisoners in Oregon.
And then you poured the rest of the vodka into salsa and added the alcohol soaked pineapples and grapes and said "don't touch my salsa breakfast".
Is there a reason drunk me put drunk you's phone in the freezer?
You sending me our unborn, unfertilized babies' names is not what I envisioned when you said you'd "drunk text me later".
The girl at the liquor store remembered me as "the girl who pays in hundreds" so she didn't ID me
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