um. i met him on myspace...we text now, he lives down the street
we were making out and he got up to change his pants. I wonder what would happen if i took my shirt off.
weed brownie and a latte, breakfast of champions
like we started out all organized and composed and within thirty mins people were throwing up in the bushes, arguing over a beer bong and jumping in the pool with their clothes on
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I don't remember anything other than how good it felt when I peed my pants.
you dragged me by my throat over to the shots. this is a new level of alcoholism..
I tried to tell him I love him but it came out something like "We're both fucked up and it works."
We didn't have sex but he is somehow naked and laying on top of me. his dick is touching my leg and freaking me the fuck out.
You said that you were drinking out of a pan, and then went on to apologise to 'Jesus and all the other guys' for drinking on a Sunday.
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You know what, don't even answer. Just promise me you'll go to the Corner of Shame when you get home.
Matt's offering to breast feed it.
Last night you snap chatted some chick a pic of bottle service with the caption "send tits"
Well you busted in the house and yelled with pride about Uber giving you a ride over with your new bong.
Is someone on their way here yet? I'm way too tweaked to be here alone
That song just makes me wanna take off my top and shake my titties all around the club.
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