dude, mark had the least successful cab ride in history last night. took a cab to the bars, stopped at every atm in the city, none worked, then had to come back to the party to beg for 20 to pay the taxi that officially took him nowhere.
I had five suicidal voicemails from him when I woke up this morning. They all started and ended with "DON'T FUCK MY ROOMMATES".
It was only one, it doesn't count.
Is it obsessive that I keep picking my crazy sex rug burn scab so it leaves a scar I can remember him by?
His apartment number was 69. I had to.
I said "have a good day officer and I'll see you friday when I get arrested for being too drunk.."
Oh shit I just realized the ropes are still tied to the bedposts
I wish you could take over my body and feel what my nipple feels like right now
Just retrieve me from the bathroom floor when you're done
I'd rather blow Nickelback than be told he gave me gonorrhea. I'd even post it on Facebook for all of the world to like, share, and judge me.
The night got interesting when the random guy next to us handed us a bottle of champagne and the rest of his ciroc bottle. When we asked why he did it, he proceeded to point at his friend who face planted the floor.
Thank you for letting me get drunk enough to forget he was there tonight, but not drunk enough to make a complete fool of myself.
you're hired as official boob wrangler
And for the record I didn't even have sex last night. I threw up in his toilet and slept in his bed until noon
I swear, I make more use of my creative writing major with sexting than I do with anything else
Did you wake up next to Karina?
So that's her name
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