I love how you send me nude pics of girls you're fucking and name them by which city they're in instead of their name. "This is Nashville, this is Tupelo, this is Jackson..."
and everytime i fart i feel like in your heart, you can hear it
like we started out all organized and composed and within thirty mins people were throwing up in the bushes, arguing over a beer bong and jumping in the pool with their clothes on
i'm glad we're now at the level of friendship where we can comfortably discuss the quality of our shit
At this point, I really just need a sign in sheet for my vagina.
This year I'm going to try NOT getting arrested. I think the 30th birthday is the cutoff for calling Mom to bail me out.
He rode a broom down the stairs while we were mattress surfing. Naked. Buck ass naked. WTF
After we drank 3, we built a raft out of the empties and installed the fourth submerged In the water to keep it cool. Keg boats are now a thing
I wanted him to come me this time. So I told him last time I was in the city I hit a lady on the head with an inflatable Santa Claus and just found out that the restraining order she requested against me was granted. We never hung out.
Well she got high, deleted the essay she was working on, and then ordered dominos. We all manage stress in different ways.
Finding an empty bathroom to shit on campus is like the quest for the fucking Holy Grail. Except with more stench and humiliation.
It's okay I didn't send any nudes tonight so we are safe *inserts photo of a baseball umpire doing the safe signal*
I biked home blackout drunk last night, but I have some memory of throwing my bike in a rage when I couldnt get it down the stairs. No idea on the bright orange puke in the sink.
Well I kept shouting "you're groovy" at him and then I had a 15-minute argument with the bouncer about how many 9s there are in 100... it was definitely time to go home.
I kept screaming that he looked like Khal Drogo and rode around the bar on his back.
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