Vodka and I made up for the occasion and after 2 drinks I fell asleep on her couch at 11 or something equally embarrassing.
Son, I am disappoint.
Once we shuffled across the street she asked me to help her home
There is actually an urban myth going around about just this scenario here. It variously ends in a bashing or worse. Except in the stories where she is a ghost.
Lord. If my feces makes an appearance anywhere near that tour bus please just kill me immediately. Polish couches and your porch are one thing, but FASTER? DEDEDED! :p
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Son, I am disappoint.
Once we shuffled across the street she asked me to help her home
There is actually an urban myth going around about just this scenario here. It variously ends in a bashing or worse. Except in the stories where she is a ghost.
Life. Huh.
Don't talk to me about life.
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By your typing fail?
Don't talk to me about life.
Why not? You gonna punch me in the coolie bag or something? I Know People.
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Fail? *pish*
( ... )
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Either that or I drink too much? Your call, really.
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:P
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ha!
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