I'm home now. bring me food and boobies
I drunkenly recorded an episode of Family Matters last night. I took a shot everytime Carl Winslow had a mustache.
Yet again my drunken self has managed to find his way into the middle of nowhere with no shoes or recollection of what happened last night.
Then I guess you don't remember me driving you there after you tried making out with my girlfriend, dipshit.
you know what its like when everyone is chanting "do it, do it"...still friends?
She vajazzled her vag. It was as useless as putting earrings on chewbacca
I feel like I'm a marionette being lifted around. Four Loko.
woke up to see a man wearing a sailor hat and covered in vomit sneaking out the door. Epic night indeed.
My reasons for going are selfish. She just opened her own law firm. I figure having a lawyer as a friend is a good idea. Nothing in my life suggests I won't need a lawyer again.
I saw a shooting star while he was eating me out at 3am by my neighbors pool. Doesn't get more magical than that
I walked into my room last night at 4 am and there's a random dude in his boxers eating oatmeal on my futon. I looked at him and went to bed
I was apparently the best non-Irish person at the party. I wore my skating dress, Austrian flag and a giant shamrock. Everyone is calling me "30 Shots Girl".
Guess who's the proud owner of her very own foxtail butt plug!!
I feel like I got hit by a truck. And I vaguely remember getting into an argument with a passive aggressive Ron Burgundy in a onesie- grown man, not a baby- about the pronunciation of New Orleans
Now after not puking, next step is not to do the accent when immigration says "hello."
And by "sexually intimate," you mean fuck buddies?
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