I dont know whether to be proud of myself for not driving, or being proud that i was so messed up I couldnt drive
just went home with some hot chick. she has posters of the jonas brothers in her room. i basically ran out of the house.
believe me... letting the man that delivered you from your mother's vagina do shots off your stomach is really fucking awkward.
The movie was so bad she gave me two blowjobs. Two.
Moment of the night: you were impatient while I paid for the tequila shots and proceeded to lick and salt MY hand for me. This is why we're roommates.
So I think I might just embrace the awkwardness and say he fingerblasted her cause thats the greatest word in existence
She was lying on the table chugging back something when the table broke
She kept going
I told my doctor about us having twin chlamydia
He followed me on twitter after I posted a drunk screen shot of a tweet. It's like he gave me permission to stalk him on a whole different level.
I can't get over how you look like his sister and he wants to fuck you.
That was the night, like, my hair caught on fire...
Apparently I was telling them, "I AM A STRONG INDEPENDENT WOMAN AND I DON'T NEED YOU TO HOLD MY HAIR," and I pulled my hair back and puked.
Maybe I'm not hungover. Maybe I'm actually dying.
He plays guitar, sings like an angel, and acts like a gentleman. If I don't fuck him by the end of first semester, I'm dropping out
Fuck. I think I can already feel tomorrow's hangover. It's like future me cane back to warn present me about the impending doom but didn't turn the time dial back far enough.
Randomize
