Writing a book: The Evolution of the Douche Bag: From Popped Collars to Ed Hardy Shirts. Doing research now.
Make sure you include chapters on white sunglasses, spray tans, and toxic amounts of hair gel.
Even my Russian and Serbian roommates think I drink to much.
I've now graduated to the level of gay where I can tell Tegan and Sara apart.
Drinking with a woman who gave an anti-drugs speech at my high school. Somehow, not surprised.
This year I'm going to try NOT getting arrested. I think the 30th birthday is the cutoff for calling Mom to bail me out.
So there I was praying he didn't go limp again, choking on a long, long gray ball hair. This is my Saturday night. This. Is. My. Life.
Revised rule: don't put your dick in the general vacinity of mental instability.
Not even dry humping. Not even a little bit.
The ideal thing to do next party is to tape my boobs down so they don't knock over the pong cups while playing defense. They came back to hurt us this time
It's a strange mix of shame and pride every time I pee at the bar and still see my lipstick on the bathroom wall...
I'd feel bad about being drunk at the Christmas service, except for the fact that I've already had sex in this church, so this is just small change.
Ever had someone sing happy birthday to you during sex?
I yelled at the dude who smoked him up "YOU'RE THE REASON I'M NOT GETTING LAID" then went to bed. So yeah, I guess it was an ok night.
All I know for sure is, I went to bed drunk and I woke up in a relationship..I think I need to reevaluate my drinking skills.
My little brother came home while I was sitting there icing my vagina with a bag of peas. Asshole looks at me, high fives Ryan, then leaves.
The angle I tried to shoot a load on her face was unfortunate. I accidentally came on the David Bowie tribute she had out. Oddly, that made it more erotic.
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