my house keeper must think I'm a prostitute.
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.
ugh, today is just one of those 'get high before your 8am class' days.
i think at one point throughout the night i began eating birthday cake with a q-tip.
he told me that my best friend was "one the most attractive people he's ever seen" and wondered why he didn't get a blow job
One my way home. There was too much fog, strobe lights, and cocaine for my taste.
I just called the on campus pharmacy and asked the pharmacist to tell me how each one of my medications will react with "excess alcohol consumption". And I'm not even ashamed...I've reached a new low.
So Doritos and vodka was obviously not as good an idea as I thought at the time.
The blow job award ceremony was a little much. You guys didn't need to call out what happened the night before.
What? How can you say that? You won!
I jumped out of a moving car going sixty into my driveway because I had to shit so bad. It is not a good day today.
You should never be more than a quarter of a mile from a working toilet
Preach!
I woke up to Elf. I don't know which one of you put that in my DVD player when I passed out but I appreciate you.
The guy next to me on the bus has one hole in his jeans that has over 20 mini dicks drawn on his leg. Classic.
I ran into the marine at the grocery store. Its like my vag and his penis have this way of finding each other when I least want it.
So turns out my new assistant isn't really my assistant. The owner needed a title for his FWB so his wife wouldn't catch on. I got a three hundred a month credit limit boost on my corporate credit card instead.
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