we have a love-hate relationship...we love having sex but hate waking up next to eachother
Then I received a text in French, that roughly translated to "all you'll ever be good for is sex on the Internet"
You were telling me to give my phone mouth to mouth so it wouldn't die.. Should i be worried for you?
and all i could think about was how mcdonalds would not be open anymore after we were done having sex
I'm not sober enough to be having a conversation about a rap she wrote in Spanish about public safety
Last thing I remember was you straddling a guy in a wheelchair on the dance floor.
At 4am he sent "uree asss ize anmazin"
If he's dead I'm so gonna get the blame. I have his passport, keys and his tooth in my purse.
I think I was using my hair to catch my vomit last night.
You were.
I can't decide if the sex was so good I couldn't move, or if it was me being loaded on all the morphine that they shot me up with at the ER.
There was a pirates of the caribbean marathon on. No matter how much you like rum, it is NOT possible to outdrink the pirates. They always win.
I'll miss you, too. On the bright side, a night away from one another might give me a chance to recup seminal fluids.
Shotgunning beers in the shower. Mom would be proud.
You spilled your drink, and we laughed so hard my boobs popped out of my shirt.
Drunk twilight is the only twilight
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