So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
My fight-or-flight response is really more fight-or-fuck
Definitely want to eloquently cunt punt those bitches thru the field goals of life.
We took it as we must go to waffle house or else we will upset the gods.
I still have way too many Frat houses to get blackout drunk at before I'm get in any type of relationship
The best part is every argument that she makes from here on out will be refuted by "Oh hey remember that time you shit yourself wearing someone else's sweatpants at a frat party?"
I have a big to do list for you. Number 1 - me. Number 2 - drink wine 3. Talk my ears off. 4. Me again
wrestling a boy for fruit? sounds suspiciously like foreplay...
I will give you the couch, a small portion of the fridge, and plenty of beer.
Got my future figured out. I'm oddly comforted. Thanks, bro.
do you ever wish you could like, jerk your heart off and be, like, emotionally satisfied? it'd feel like cuddling.
It was easier that asking where the vagina platter is.
Why am I cleaning the house twerking to anaconda wearing a bears jersey and helmet?
i definitely signed you up to receive text message notifications from a jukebox last night. Not even sorry.
I would rather suck a dick or two than go there
youll appreciate my drinking habit one day...
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