Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
Climbing onto the roof in a dress and high heeled boots was probably not the best idea, especially after all that Bacardi.
and on the fourth day, god made foam parties.
apparently you can't crawl through the drive-thru window
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He knows my period schedule but not my work schedule.
If the egyptians can build pryamids men can walk on the moon and ron jeremy can sleep with all those bitches then we can finish these three handles of vodka
Has my life seriously led me to day drinking on a Monday the third week of the semester?
It's after 5, it's not day drinking.
Not yoga, whiskey. Totally mis-typed whiskey.
He's so twisted that he's acting out Dragon Ball-Z by himself. The Tanquray and THC combo doesn't play around.
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I just coughed and my vagina hurt. We need to hook up more.
Just discovered evidence of drunken eBay bid. Drunk Mike did pretty good -- I'm getting a new sleeping bag.
My knees are skinned from sitting on someone's face on concrete
My hangover didn't kick in until like 4pm so I found myself puking in the middle of Times Square. During rush hour. In a three piece suit. A spongebob came by and patted me on the back.
COME TO THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN AND I WILL GIVE YOU MY SAGE ADVICE.
All of a sudden he got that look on his face and ran to the dance floor and started fist pumping to Rihanna that kind of night
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