The last thing I remember is you asking me how to grow french fries.
Found my smoke alarm in a ziploc in my toilet...again
The thing is you're all "holy crap this isn't nearly as bad as I thought pissing on my own face would be."
We made the pizza boy do Jell-o shots with us. He didn't even deliver to our house, we just called him over from the neighbors
I just had someone I don't even know on Facebook message me saying it seems like I drink too much and should slow down.
First of all, I don't like eggnog. Second of all too much rum is all bad. And thirdly I'm not there to sit in your lap and pretend you are Santa and I've been a bad girl.
Was I holding a cat when you saw me? Because that was the height of that party for me.
He could smell the liquor on my breath. Fuck. I thought he would smell French toast.
Calm the fuck down fatty, you can add creme de menthe to a vanilla shake any time of the year
It was awk he was sittin on a plastic backyard chair in his underwear and high white socks in the dark watching the nuggets game
do you ever feel so high you're swimming backstroke and then you realize you're still laying in bed on tumblr
Mate, you pissed in my bed. Then told me to "Just keep swimming"
he showed me his third nipple on the first date. I might have low to no standards, but my god.
The minute he showed me his Mumford and sons tattoo is the minute i could literally feel my pussy dry up
whoever decided snowing in 90 percent of campus on a night when the streets are flowing with tequila and skittles was clearly not an R.A.
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