this kid down the hall keeps banging on his drums...i feel like i'm living in jumanji
So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
Fell asleep in bio again. Sometimes i feel like college is just one really expensive nap.
i've noticed that whenever i have to ask myself "would i be doing this if i was sober?" the answer is probably no.
my credit card is covered in vodka and bad memories
he even offered to make my bed in the morning.
Dude you make losing your phone an art. You left it balancing on a two liter bottle in the kitchen. Wtf
There were so few words spoken that I'm not sure if it was make-up or break-up sex.
You need to stop blackout tweeting at him to have sex with you on the roof of your dorm. He doesn't even have a twitter.
im suggesting it to him. and by suggesting i mean we're not having sex again unless im wearing high heels
Taco trucks are like ice cream trucks for drunk adults. They should have a mariachi tune they play super loud to bring people out of the bars for tacos.
She asked what it would take for you to fuck her. You drunkenly mumbled, "pepperoni pizza" and then got in the cab by yourself. You were smiling too. It was weird.
DIBS ON THE NEW GUY.
NO. NO FUCKING YOUR COWORKERS
I've pulled 4 ticks off of me. This is the last time I suck dick in the wild.
He ate me out for an eternity. Like fell asleep, woke up, and he was still doing it.
Randomize
