4:25 am: I want you here. Ugh.
the smoke from my cigarette strangely resembles what patrick swayzes ghost will look like.
I was giving him a blow job in the kitchen, but it was uncomfortable. so i took the oven mitts and used them as knee pads.
Don't tell me i'm not fucking resourceful.
im not gonna bother asking u how it was... we could hear u through the walls
i was super drunk. to the point where i was putting shredded cheese on a fork, putting hot sauce on it then dipping it in salsa. it was awesome.
scarred for life. way too high and witnessed some chick give a dude head on the dance floor
I'm not judging you... I'm judging our friendship
Our Icelandic basketball player brought cocaine and rachael is screaming that he should do lines off her stomach. It's that kind of party
you didn't want to pay for the shots so you negotiated with the bartenders. Apparently 1 shot is worth 5 seconds of motor-boating you.
The walk of shame is a lot easier when I'm at a music festival and it's 12 feet from his tent to my tent
You are living the dream.
That's true because who the fuck doesn't love Harry Potter and beer
...I watched him run on the beach yesterday and I think I started ovulating
I've decided to become a librarian so I can drunkenly quote The Mummy and have it be legit.
Just in case you blacked out, we had sex, you came in me, we need plan B, we fell off your top bunk, broke your roommates chair, i still like you, but i'm in pain and am going to bed
i had to call the bar to ask if they found my bowling ball. That good of a night
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