Woke up this morning to a janitor hitting me in the head with his bucket in the hallway of my building. An alumni was next to me because we locked ourselves out of my room and couldn't figure out where my roommates were.
and that's why we call him explosion in my pants. no one remembers his real name.
There's trophy wives that arent even in the 5th grade yet
I just dropped off shoes at Mike's hotel. The chick he hooked up with last night stole his phone and shoes.
They found a chair, duct taped me to it, then gave me a bottle of vodka to 'make me feel at home'
I think I wrote "thanks for the free alcohol!!!" in their wedding guest book and I'm almost positive I signed my name
ugh... I can't wait for campus to get back. Then everyone will have other things to try to have sex with besides me.
I no longer see him as a simple set of male genitalia attached to a very sexy body. The title "trophy fuck" seems wrong. Damn.
No more vodka shots for you. Last night you begged a man on your knees to sell you his beard. He had no beard.
Why were you eating a hot dog in the bathroom at 230 am?
My roommate was sleeping, I thought it would be rude
your ability to divide cases of beer among any given group of people equally was missed.
You climbed on top of the bar, shotgunned a 25oz fosters and screamed, Steve Irwin was a God amongst men.
I just hit on a guy in a doughnut store... is that too suggestive?
He put chocks of wood in front of his doors to stop me from leaving. I'm not nearly drunk enough for that to be appropriate behaviour.
I just smoked a bowl with the lady who runs the special olympics. Your move.
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