I'm going to an arts college, I live next to the frat houses, and my room number is 420. god has plans for me and I couldn't be happier.
I had my own version of the Hangover last night. I woke up to a disassembled Christmas tree, shit on the futon, and a hamster in the bathroom with a necklace on that said "Feed Me Bitch." I don't own a hamster. I don't know what I drank last night, but I want to do it again.
I'm taking last night back. It officially didn't happen. Tell your friends.
woke up in my one night stand's bed and barfed all over her floor. she came back from the bathroom, looked at the vomit, looked at me and said "normally i'd tell you to clean it and get the fuck out, but i remember the sex was good, so i'll let it go." Score.
Have fun at school today. Try to hide that you're a whore. The other girls will like you better that way.
And then I interrupted the father of the groom, to ask if she was "ballet or pole" in the middle of his story about his niece, the dancer.
Should have told me the night we were talking about deal breakers that vomming outside your car was one of them. I would have taken a cab back
I kind of drew a blank when the doctor asked me how I got super glue up my nose.
I'm sports announcer narrating myself making a sandwich. Your weed wins.
Dad and I are shitfaced screaming at Canadians in Walmart. Life is good.
He is peeing inside and sticking up for himself. Those are two of the four signs of the apocalypse.
I'm at a restaurant. I am NOT about to discuss my asshole over the phone.
Also, thank you for letting me cry in your lap on the bathroom floor. I can't remember if I was clothed at that point, but if I wasn't, extra thank you.
I need to calm my uterus...
literally took my pants off in the middle of bourbon last night without taking off my heels im a super human i guess
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