I specifically asked you not to be slutty tonight.
after he passed out we removed everything electronic from his room, stuck in some old books and an ancient typewriter from goodwill. for 20 min. we had him convinced he'd drunk himself backward in time.
She told me at midnight she would blow me harder than a new years party kazoo
It was honestly like finding a clitoris in a haystack.
there is way too much butter on my body for this to be okay
His little brother just walked in, asked me if I'd blown his brother yet and then announced that he and his friends were going to play outside so we could play too.
my drunken justification for peeing in her closet was that her shoes were ugly
after all you did bang a few mechanics. you must have got some second hand skills by now for building us a go kart.
You just said you hate yourself then sent me a picture of your friend's penis. Clearly this is a night of honesty.
So is that the only criterion for shenanigans now? Don't die?
She says the reason I don't talk to her is because I'm "emotionally lazy" what ever that means
we finally found him at 2 am. he was 3 miles from the house and tried running into the lake when he saw us pull up. i don't think he'll be taking ecstacy again any time soon.
what did we do after we left your crib?
you layed down in some rocks for about an hour, you stole some pumpkins, you passed out and started shaking, we got t-bell, we took you back to the dorm.
Somebody put William Shatner singing Bohemian Rhapsody on the jukebox, and the whole bar is about to riot.
we live vicariously through your huge boobs
Randomize
