My feet smell like cheese. Makes me hungry.
Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
I don't think he has that. His apartment was pretty much a tv and a bed. Topless girl calendar and a glass of water to put out cigarettes.
He talks to me in this sweet I know you might be pregnant voice.
She's pissed. She declared she was moving out and proceeded to pack 3 pairs of shoes, her electric wine opener and ONE sock. Then told us to have fun paying her portion of the rent.
Your 'drink of the future' makes sense now- you feel it for atleast 10 hours into the future
totally worth getting kicked out for trying to throw my drink on lindsay lohans ankle bracelet.
I told her that I was going up to my room to lay in front of a fan without pants on, watching Avengers and she still wanted to get with me. I have to marry her.
I was trying to pee in the bushes and the person who lived in the house where the bushes were planted started knocking on the window to get me to stop peeing in their bushes
We fucked so hard that when I orgasmed I tore his towel rack off the wall. He was more impressed than mad.
Ask me who hasn't showered since Sunday and just got cruised at the gas station on his way to work. I'm a terrible gay.
Dead. I am actually dead. Also, worst nightmare confirmed: throwing up in a four hundred person lecture.
Not sure who they are or where we're going but they just bought me 3 tacos so I'm staying.
hooked up with him and then had a conversation with his ex about how we hate people who hook up with our exs...
The coast is clear - also, would it bother you if I chose not to wear pants?
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