Last night I got a napkin with 4 names & numbers: Katie, Ellen, Kylie...and Brandon.
at last call she tried to get the bartender to fill her flask. when he refused, i had to stop her from trying to pour the rest of her beer in there.
dude, i woke up with a mini keg on my night stand. again. like wtf
He's coming back with me for the week. It took me saying "I don't wanna drive myself home... I'm better as a passenger giving road head" for him to jump at it. Rack another one up for my magical openings.
I legit just said "vaginal access denied" then told him his password hint was "tequila shots"
This is like the time you took a picture of your knees and told him it was your tits, isn't it?
You told her to step on the scale because you had whiskey goggles, and scales don't lie.
I woke up and he was just feeling up my stomach. I felt like buddha and he was rubbing my belly for good luck. never again.
I feel like we should at least be hungover if we're gonna be this grown up.
You were drunk it couldn't have been that bad
I've never been drunk enough to enjoy getting a blister on my dick.
She has also never texted me first which I think might be a tell-tale sign she wants me to die alone.
My tits became the mascot for the SAE house last night.
that's what I'm here for. I'm literally just bad advice mixed with motivational sentences.
You kept saying, "please sir, can I have some more."
Your ex spoke highly of your penis and it’s skill. I’m interested in learning more about it ;-)
Randomize
