Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
You should probably wake up already as I have yet another story for you. Teaser? Blood from knife wound. Tequila. Guitar hero. Kitchen counter. Lawyer.
Next thing I know we're all standing in the kitchen holding hands and thanking God for the beer.
i had to pay fifty dollars for throwing up in the limo, 60 fucking dollars to throw up all over myself
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malibu coconut giveth, and malibu coconut taketh away
You drank everything last night. It was like this huge deconstructed long island that went on for 5 hours
i think he saw me take a picture of his dick
Did you mean to cry when you finished last night? Or were you just that drunk?
True. On an unrelated note I helped post bail for both of our ex girlfriends last night. Russian roulette: guess which one is pregnant?
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Mm. I just want to eat pancakes off of his fine ass.
Just had ice cream and a blow job come together in one glorious, defining moment.
I'm 2 beers deep on an empty stomach, and I just wanna say, I pride myself on my use of commas
He slapped my ass... He best ask me out. Or figure out how to unslap my ass.
When he's drowning in your chest and he muffles out the words 'I just want to live here' that's a compliment right?
Just when I thought we may have our first low-key night together, I sang an Aladdin karaoke song to a bunch of roller derby girls, you took shots with married women, and we both fell asleep in our offices.
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