I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
i havent thrown up in four monthes, im clearly not drinking enough
I made her dinner: Beefaroni with grated parmesan cheese on top. Luckily she showed up drunk and gave me head, "For spending so much time preparing."
Beer bonged 7 shots of Jameson. I title this night short stories with tragic endings.
When my alarm went off, he rolled over and asked me: Bacon or dick? Yes, I will see him again.
He was crying because he hiccuped every time he kissed me. We then crawled to the kitchen because neither of us could stand, and I spoon-fed him peanut butter "to cure his ailment."
I have this terrible fear I might accidentally text a pic of my dick to my grandma
I'm developing all these feelings it's disgusting.
So basically he is jobless, a potential serial killer, and has poor taste in music? We simply don't have time for that.
I'm at that stage of drunk where just imagining having sex makes me motion sick.
I was just informed that I asked for a glass of wine at the police station
I'm sure it would have gone very well with the cigarette you lit there.
Get here now. There’s a guy dressed as Captain Morgan handing out miniature bottles of Captain Morgan.
By the time I realized I was watching a Danish porno with muppets it was already too late
I will fuck anyone who brings me mcdonalds right now
Did I tell you I drunk fucked my one roommate last week
Uh no
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