He is either going to be in my pants or get a restraining order against me.
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 called me "the Joe Montana of blowies." Not sure if that is an accomplishment or an insult, but going off of the amount of condensation on the windows of my car, I'm gonna just do a little touchdown dance and pass out.
can a guy be partially circumsized? cause i dont exactly know what i was lookng at...
he asked me if i "normally slept like that" because i was curled up in a ball facing the wall. then he told me that i woke up in the middle of the night and said "oh my god. i forgot you were here." how did he not understand that i didn't want him in my bed.
thats what you get for writing a paper after liquor pitchers
its only a rough draft.
After walking in on us in the living room, he still insisted that he slept in my bed with me afterwards.
Don't ask how or why, but I think the 775 on the inside of my lip is permanent
my roommates tied me up with rope and duct tape then left me outside the door to the hot girls' suite on my floor, knocked on the door and ran away leaving me there with a sign that says free
I told her to not worry about it. Lone Star is an excellent first trimester beer.
And then you two got up and shouted in near perfect unison "I'M ALWAYS A SLUT FOR BASKIN ROBBINS" The bar just looked at us horrified.
On a unprofessional note, there's a new girl in photo.
That wasn't unprofessional. The fact that I'm going to fuck her is unprofessional.
I wasn't even hungover I was just mourning my dignity
I've Ubered to the bar three times this weekend to get my car but every time I get there I end up drinking. Still no car.
I'm fucked-out. That state of being high between fucked up and passed out.
Randomize
