You were wearing a sombrero. And a crown. And told me to use the nerf gun to protect your room from the cat. You don't have a cat.
my brother is a facebook fan of two things: God, and Rhianna. if he's not a prime example of the rare "baptist closeted gay," i don't know who is.
he was shitfaced drunk and couldn't walk but could still recite the top 10 in order from the first season of american idol. impressive
I swear he shrunk like 2 inches. Remind me that drunk sex needs to remain drunk sex.
Operation liquormelon is in full effect. We may die tonight.
I swear, its like my old fuck buddies have a 6th sense for when I'm going to be daydrunk. Then they start texting me. And then I start sexting them
I legitimately forgot how to blow my nose just now. Sleep might be handy.
Two words that describe last night: naked and backflips.
We found him wrapped up in a giant table umbrella in the bathroom.
He rubbed my back afterwards. I forgot how to talk and I legitimately thought I was a cat for a few minutes.
Due to last night I think a roommate constitution should be made. The first law will be designed to prevent any chicks below a 4 to enter the house.
words I never want to hear dad say again: "Trevor you sexy man you"
There's nothing quite like having a little 8 year old boy hand me a Bible on campus while I'm on my way to the health center because of my recent slutty tendencies.
If Denver makes it to the Super Bowl I'll quit drinking. So I'm pretty much stocking up on booze
Couch. On fire.
Randomize
