So the D.A.R.E. essay I helped my tutor kid write won an award. Oh the irony.
i feel as if last night was a right of passage. to officially be an adult you must have a drunken one night stand with a co-worker and go to work the next day still drunk wearing yesterday's clothes...
I dont think that drinking by ourselves on a saturday night counts as being "fun alcoholics"
I woke up naked in my own vomit. Not even in my bed. No one is happy.
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He just made me a heart out of cocaine... i think i'm in love
Your braces fetish is going to end up biting you in the dick.
There's so much relief when you realize you wake up in your own bed
He's having a heart to heart coversation with the keg about what he should do with his life.
How many folks do you know who bring coke to a dinner party. Seriously.
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We're trying to leave but amy's hitting on the guy who mans the nacho cart
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So I'm thinking next semester you should be my own personal maid, nurse, masseuse and chef in exchange for free lodging, any food you can find, and unlimited access to my reproductive organs.
And if I hated you I'd probably say things like, "I never want to speak to you again," or, "Eat a bag of dicks." That's how you'd know.
Finals drinking + forgeting you had to take your ambien because you work at 6am mid paper= drunk logic which then entails going on a "detox" run. Puking your guts put in the field house bushes while some random guy says to you "its okay. We're marching on."
you said, 'he held out his hand, that means we don't have to pay' about the taxi driver, and then asked the doorman what happened to your pants...