So I just walked in on one of our neighbors having sex...on our couch.
WHAT?!
He apologized for staining our couch, then asked if he could make me a drink. Pretty sure he was still inside her while we were talking.
New drink name: the Vermont Douchebag. Take shot of maple syrup, drop into cup of jager, bomb.
Yes, I am watching The Hills Have Thighs. And yes it is a porno remake of The Hills Have Eyes. And, again, yes, lesbian sex in the desert. Get the sand out.
I'm inventing beer flavored vodka. This raspberry shit makes me feel like a pussy.
TAing a class of 300 froshies and being so hungover I forgot a bra is my way of making dreams come true.
The fact that when I blacked in you were sober enough to kick me out of your roommates bed makes me question our friendship.
I had a dream last night where I used the marginal product rule to figure out how much more hangover I got per sip of four loko, econ is taking over my life...
Like I had to call my dad because I couldn't manage to unlock the door. And when he got there to open it I was climbing the gate to get in.
Get here, there are important joints to be smoked and pies to be eaten
i told her i loved her afterwards and she said "i know," kissed me, and got up to start making breakfast.
dude, she han solo'd you. keep her.
In another note. Thanks for making me get a vibrator. For real.
Why do I have a separate credit card just for booze? Because I saved enough points so Saturday we are flying to Denver to smoke legal weed and fly back in the same day.
It's such a sad loss when a hot guy finds Jesus and grows a neckbeard
I'm not fucking any of these fools. But if they want to buy me Olive Garden, that's their business.
the fact that your 21st birthday is also new years eve is pretty much a death sentence
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