I woke up this morning next to some guy. I was horrified, he woke up and said, "the white tiger strikes again!"
dude i'm inner monologue high
nothing makes up for a small, perpetually flaccid penis quite like a British accent
Did I get blown in the bathroom? Yes. Did she throw up cranberry juice on my shorts? Yes. Did she finish the job? Yes.
I drew a venn diagram at the top of my final comparing stuff i know and stuff on the test.
sometimes when i'm drunk i choose the spanish option on the ATM to challenge myself.
So not only did team sweden fail to particpate in any drinking game but i also found puke in my viking helmet this morning.
I'm going to have to take an awkward trip to the front desk to ask them if they found a pair of turquoise shorts and an "I'm the Mom" sweatshirt.
so my mom thinks I'm picking you up just to go buy you liquor before you go back to school tomorrow...
I'm ashamed that your mom thinks I haven't already taken care of that.
Maybe it's because I walked straight up to that shelf of vodka with a look of determination that said "I mean business".
I usually have to have a cart! If that doesn't say "I mean business" then I don't know what does
all i know is there's a picture on my phone of him wearing my purple sweatpants and licking the bottom of my foot.
Next year for Halloween you can be the sword swallower, with a penis shaped sword.
starting to feel like a fuck wizard with a magical sixth sense for people fucking.
this weekend took five years off my life and what was left of my dignity
I'm upset for all the future generations who can't drunkenly get cheesy bread
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