All I want to do right now is burp, puke, and fart. In that order.
I think I'm cybering, it's been a while and its more in depth than it was in 8Th grade.
ohhh no, absolutely not. i am waaayyy too superstitious to have sex with the self-proclaimed "baby-maker" on father's day...
I wanna thank you for having such slutty friends growing up. Your a great little sister
I'm crying, drinking alone and applying for jobs tonight. I figure the alcohol will lower my job standards.
In chronological order you drank, sang, smoked, napped, threw up, cried, laughed, described your pubic area, passed out. You have abused the privilege to use me as your D.D.
I've also decided that the true test of whether or not you should marry a girl is if she will willingly blow you while you eat Oreos.
He kept humping my leg and whispering "dont worry, thats my phone not my penis"
A homeless guy wouldnt accept my granola bar because he didnt have any teeth. I think i win the prize for the ultimate rejection
FYI: Brian said he left me in the bathroom Friday night to shower and 45 minutes later found me with a towel around my head, my pants on and holding my boobs. No more Jell-O shots for me.
well i mean, we just followed them into an alien and astronaut party. there was tin foil everywhere
There should be a Doritos delivery van or something.
I found you laying in a field of grass near the trail I jog on in the morning like a drunken Bambi.
I am a delicate flower. A fucked up, drunk, horny, pants pissing, delicate little flower.
I really appreciate you taking the time to blur out my excessive boob cleavage for instagram
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