Let's review the events of last night:
1) You rolled up to my friend's boyfriend's house talking about how you just hooked up with two hot girls at your frat's pledge party. You later revealed that 'hooked up' meant 'kissed briefly' and 'hot girls' meant 'blacked-out sorority rushees'.
2) Your last name is funny. You probably already know this. I'm sorry I felt the need to keep reminding you by making hilarious puns with it.
3) When you started talking about how your dad was buying you a Porsche, I was totally serious when I said you could give your Saab to me. Homegirl needs wheels.
4) You know why I kept un-popping your collar? Because it's not 1985 and we're not in a John Hughes movie.
5) I feel the need to apologize for being a drunk bitch. This is in large part to the fact that when you told me you still had your v-card, I shrieked "Oh Jesus, you're still a virgin?" so the whole party could hear. Seriously, my bad.
Hoping we can still be homies,
PS: Shortly after calling you out on your sexless-ness, I wiped out on a curb and ripped my favorite black skinny jeans. Karma's a bitch, no?