3 st and 6 ave. One dollar pitchers. Look out world.
you don't remember? you called me at 330 crying because you were in the middle of having sex with corey and forgot his name. all you kept saying was i'm a drunk bitch.
I mean we're not committed. He's my first choice, sort of like miller lite. When I'm at the bar I'm going to order one, but if they don't maybe I'll go for a bud or blue moon. I'm certainly not going to stop drinking
The last thing I remember was talking about the economic viability of cock ring manufacturing... we had some good ideas
I remember pointing out how smooth my legs were to try to direct his attention away from my vagina.
you better not pull some "waking up at 2 in the afternoon" shit, we have weed to smoke.
I fucking hate you. Some slutty looking drunk chick backed her ass up across the bar and started grinding on you. You ignored her because you didn't want to share you drink
I care about my drink far more than her feelings
Also, there's the possibility of falling 5 feet to your death to make it more exciting
In which case I will yell FIVE SECOND RULE and continue to slam you
Whoever labeled dysfunctional a bad thing obviously never saw this frinedship coming.
Running my fingers through my hair was like that scene in Patch Adams where the old lady got to swim in a pool of pasta. I love Molly.
I had to write an apology letter to my roomate for hotboxing in our bathroom. What a bitch.
The number of threesomes I have agreed to seems to increase every time I talk to you drunk...
Bro. I traded my coat. I have a Raiders coat now.
a victory without nudity is not really a victory
I am not walking across campus just to give you a blow job in the hopes that in return i can study more efficiently.
Randomize
