Dude stop singing. Your life is not an episode of fucking glee
2 am we went back to his house. his mom handed us beers and cooked us pancakes. the next morning his dad had washed my car. i lied. living at home after college definitely does not suck.
He kept saying that the puke outside the theater wasn't his and it was all a set up to keep him from partying with the whores. Then he passed out on the sidewalk.
i swear, as soon as they invent a cure for herpes, he's mine.
Our Icelandic basketball player brought cocaine and rachael is screaming that he should do lines off her stomach. It's that kind of party
He's afraid of heights. How do I know, you ask? Blowjob on his roof.
he asked me to lick his asshole and I told him his girlfriend could do that for him
No worries. On my way home to get ski poles and wipe the sick off my face. Then it's time to get drunk in the park
I'm pretty sure I just crapped out my pancreas. I have 2 of those, right?
So I stappled myself into my toga... that should be interesting getting out of later tonight...
Its alot like that time you got motorboated by the carni at the rodeo.
Things I Learned Tonight: I have no future in goat wrangling. Herding. Whatever you call the ridiculosity that just transpired.
I burned myself with a joint twice in one sitting I have to say that's a new record for the least number of times I have hurt myself while smoking.
I had a dream that we had an entire sofa made out of cocaine.
I got pull-out-my-nuvaring-drunk last night.
Randomize
