Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
you ever get that eerie feeling when you walk in a room, when you know youve barfed here before.
She was so drunk yelling at me in my driveway to fuck her. It was the ghetto version of Romeo and Juliet.
Pregaming class all semester has made this final review session more like my introduction to the topic.
Weekdays seemed more exciting when I had a drinking problem. Like I had something to look forward to at night.
Wait time out. Did I start last night with pants?
he kept doing his monologue, "if a vagina could talk."
We lived together for a year and neither of us knew we were both gay.
Dude. Apparently I just smoked some stuff that's used for Nigerian spirit quests.
I am never going on a blind date ever again. He drank way too much and kept telling me I had a nice boob. Like.. Singular. What's the other one? The ugly twin?
But seriously I don't know. I haven't seen her since I gave her back her 3 blind mice stick, and she just started hitting everybody with it.
only I would find a long lost relative through a craigslist casual encounters ad
I think I'm still high. And I definitely still smell like lobster, so there's that
He just told me I was beautiful, whilst I peed into a cup. If this isn't love I don't know what is.
Maybe I’ll just go to the party as myself
What, a homewrecker?
Touché
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