Last night was epic. Hooked up with Emma Watson, found twenty bucks, and then passed out on my floor.
No you didn't. You drank unbelievable amounts of 151, passed out in someone else's bathroom, and we carried you back to your floor. Nice dreams though.
On your way out, lock the front door. And by lock the front door, I mean find the door handle, reattach it, and then lock it.
He literally didn't stop until I lost count of how many times he made me orgasm. It took three hours.
Who would have guessed that on my moms birthday she'd have sex with the door open. :(
I don't think my arm is broken I can still text
Welcome to texting with Mike. You're now leaving the sober section and headed to our insanely high bad decision making portion of mike. Enjoy the trip.
i just remember explaining why my socks were better than everyone elses.
It's gotten so bad I typed my will out on my phone in case it's over.
The notification you get from snapchat that someone took a screenie is like a formal declaration of blackmail.
Never drinking again. Maybe, if our boss gave us more 3-day weekends we would know how to handle ourselves. That was a shit show.
The number of mornings I actually have to say out loud to myself "you must put pants on and go to work" to get motivated is...troubling.
I GOT THE PAPER IN AT 11:58
EAT MY ENTIRE ASS COM 101
I'm in the woods tripping balls the water is rising why don't you answer me
He asked me while we were fishing why the passion was gone when we have sex. It's official...I am the dude in this relationship.
I'm texting you know although you won't get this until you wake up. the only reason you are strapped to your bed is because you were trying to fly out your window.
Randomize