Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
As I was puking last night I told them "it's ok I'm a paramedic"
He just said he wasn't going to drink on Saturday because he was drinking on Thursday and Friday...we need new friends.
No flamethrowers. That is a direct order.
I wish Samuel L. Jackson would narrate our bar crawls
remember when I told you about my grandma asking me about my sex scars? Less comfortable than that
Based on the time of Sean's "I'm on your street" phone call last night, we had sex for an hour and a half. Man, time flies when you're getting boned to an orgasmic death.
Steve called. He needs me to pick him up. He also asked for a set of his clothes, he can't find them. He is such a strong motivation to stay sober.
Code 10 We gotta leave. Now. I took a dump in the upstairs toilet and its clogged and overflowing, and believe me I don't want to have to explain myself to this frat on parents weekend.
Just got offered a dog by two Meth head's one of which wasn't wearing shoes and continually saying "fuck"
He drops f bombs like every other word and he just gave me 127 shares of tmobile stock for free. I feel like I should pay him back in blow jobs or something.
it's the amount of time you spend on preventing me from puking that really cements this friendship
Update: they told me I was twerking to twenty one pilots
No I'm not high but I did cry for over an hour tonight because I realized that they never made a sequel to "Under the Tuscan Sun" with Diane Lane.
Someone should walk up to them and say, "We're sorry, you're too hot to be out here with the other humans."
Randomize
