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He called me "the Joe Montana of blowies." Not sure if that is an accomplishment or an insult, but going off of the amount of condensation on the windows of my car, I'm gonna just do a little touchdown dance and pass out.
We just spray painted his balls while he is passed out....I cant wait to see him try to figure this out in the morning.
I reached in my backpack to pull out my laptop. I found my bottle of Jack and 2 bottles of Coke. It's going to be a good class.
he couldn't find his key, so we just had sex on his parent's porch while we waited for his mom to get home.
He gets you donuts, dinner, and booze consistently, who cares if he's cheating
I'm skipping the 'hey, how are you, I have to pick up something pointless at your apartment' excuse and just telling you I'm coming over to fuck.
Alright I don't know how you'll link it to me but yes I left a nearly empty 12 pack on your trunk
He scratched off my spray tan. Literal nail marks down my back. Can't imagine what's underneath his fingernails.
You kept running up to random groups of people and saying "I'm a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader so we all have to chug our drinks!" and they all listened to you.
The cop asked you after the breathalyzer what you think you blew and you very discreetly shouted "I'm pretty sure i blew Kyle on the way here "
He made me twerk for scrambled eggs... I regret nothing
Also my face is like def lowkey made of silly putty
I did a line off of, and then danced on top of a table older than this country.
Harvard is great.
My last Google search was 'can an impotent man have sex'. I don't even want to know what I did with that guy.
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