we're blogging at a bar
someone get that fucking seahorse.
The walk of shame is so much worse when you've spent the night third wheeling.
nothing says happy birthday like half a tampon wrapped in someone else's hair on your shoulder.
Every now and then I'll talk to a creeper for an extended amount of time. Randy, for instance, funded our entire night of horrible decisions.
After i black out, be a good friend and point me to the direction of a girl with daddy issues, any girl would do just fine
Walk of shaming dressed as a zombie hunter. This hangover feels like the actual apocalypse.
It's like the sisterhood of the traveling vaginas over here
Oh and someone pissed in my shoes, so I'll let you figure that out.
Now that mom and dad sold the camper, do you think it's okay to talk about all the sex I had in it?
If you get laid dressed as my dad that makes me extremely uncomfortable
I think he might be using me for sex. I also think I might be ok with that.
I HAVE A FLAME THROWER. COME SEE IT. IT’S SAFE AND WORKS.
Also I ordered a dildo and I'm not sure if I want it still, so there might be a free dildo in your future
See I just want a dick that I don`t have to deal with or talk to unless it is inside me. Is that so much to ask for?
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