I know she is the girl of my dreams bc she orgasmed, rolled over and then asked if I knew that Orlando beat Cleveland.
I feel like I got hit by a truck made out of Jack Daniels.
the meat mosque collapsed into the alcohol moat
In the memo line of the check she wrote sexual healing.
The only requirement is that his name is Kevin... All other factors don't matter to drunk me. Drunk me likey Kevins.
I feel like jumping into a breast pit right now. Like the old school ball pits at mcdonalds.
So update from last night: I made friends with a coke dealer, I tore the card scanner off the wall of my dorm, and I passed out on our bathroom counter with my head in the sink.
Moonshine marathon is never a good idea
My vagina is screaming your name . Wtf did you do to it
Living alone for four weeks has given me unrealistic expectations of pantslessness.
Well I can cross 'get my dick slathered in coconut oil while watching the bob's burgers porn parody' off my bucket list.
There is a cooked ham in the washing machine.
A bitchslap is in order.
I'm seriously considering starting a savings account so I'll have bail money this summer.
I have been adopted by a clan of drunken skinny dipping tourists.
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