Not sure what happened last night, but there are four mini bikes outside and some guy is wearing my shirt passed out in the breakfast nook. Won't be telling the grand kids about this one.
Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
some kid came into the principals office and tried to explain what he was sent there for through interpretive dance.
Apparently I ran up to the group of cookie-cutter blonde chicks and screamed "Delta Gamma Nuuuuuuu!" really excitedly and tried to hug them and share fake sorority stories with them.
I feel like my life has just been one 21 year long episode of "i shouldn't be alive"
She had to put it in. I told her I was too drunk and didnt trust myself to not put it in her ass.
Worst part of St. Paddy's...me drunkenly crying to a U2 cover band.
A horse told me not to drive home last night. I think there was a cop on top of it.
We interrupt your regularly scheduled Saturday morning programming with this important announcement: you are not the father. I repeat not the father. Congratulations and have a nice day.
if you do the accent, i'll wear the eyepatch
How many people can say they've shit on the floor of a five star hotel?
Just learned a valuable lesson today. Don't open snap chats from 3 am the next morning while sitting next to a small child. They totally saw your dick.
I may have just sent her dad a picture of my penis. His name's Myron, right?
It is getting ridiculous, the elaborateness of the schemes I have to concoct so my suitemates don't know I'm pooping.
This is not a test of the emergency warning system. He has broken my vagina. I repeat he has broken my vagina. Damn it was good.
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