I think I'm going to go home and read The Bible.
I like the name aiden. he likes stella. I told him they're coming out of my vagina, and I will name them what I damn well please. Stella goes.
It's all fun and games until the last slice of pizza gets bong water spilled on it.
how do i tell her that i need alcohol to fuck her but at the same time i cant get a hard on with alcohol.
I'm eating lunch next to a table of beautiful culturally-diverse women chattering away happily. It's like sitting next to a Yaz commercial.
tailgaiting my last final, a perfect sendoff.
If you're still awake, how rude would it be if I masturbated in her new apartment on moving day? If you're asleep, then ask me how it was.
Oh God! I'm naked from the waist down playing records. Too drunk. I don't even know what to do.
Balls out but with a shirt on. Eating ravioli. I don't know how to deal with this.
You crossed every boundary on the boundary spectrum last night. You're like the illegal immigrant of drunk actions. No more holiday drinking for you.
We realized tonight that we have to get advice about guys from you because you're our only straight male friend that neither of us has slept with.
Who replies to a drunk text at 6am that's like against the rules of being a designated drunk text receiver
I woke up this morning to a lot of blurry photos of a swan i must have chased down the riverbank and a handbag full of loose haribo.
I know. In fairness he did tell me to throw up out his window onto his roof so I don't think he's pissed at me but I'm still mortified by the whole situation.
I'm to childless and to single to be asking myself why I'm so sticky
we are currently pregaming for our walk to the liquor store.
step one: admitting you have a problem. complete.
Randomize
