If I don't come home tonight, I've died in a pile of gay.
I totally just used John Mayer's lyrics to get laid.
i'm crying at olive garden. i've hit rock bottom
so would me posting the photos of the cock and coin jar incident be completely out of the question?
It's only slutty when someone else does it. It's okay if it's us though
Drank another frat president under the table. Thinking of starting my own, gonna call it Alpha Phi Alcoholics
Spotted: woman loading franzia into a toddler-sized shopping cart for her child to push. Beautiful.
I made him breakfast and we cuddled on the couch watching march of the penguins, which is, in case you were unaware, the opposite of fucking on a pool table
and I keep making him eat me out and buying me presents, this is paradise. I wish he cheated on me earlier.
You played a drinking game to fat people crying. It's a long climb to the moral high ground, why bother?
His best friend's cat died so we had a drunken burial ceremony on the side of his condo at 2am and I'm pretty sure if anyone gets ahold of the video feed from Martini Monday we're all fired.
You were dancing with a coffee pot of rum in one hand and a joint in the other. So that should explain everything.
You know it was a good night when you're lying on the couch in your pjs at 4pm having a pitcher of ice water for breakfast.
30-degree weather + Metal Cockring Monday = really hard to pee.
Unless it has to do with ramen, goldfish, cheese, or rugby, don't talk to me.
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