our landlord thinks we're weird & alcoholics. he came in to fix our broken tub and saw the laundry door on our table for beer pong, the garbage bag full of empty fifths, and that one armed baby on the doorstep. plus he saw us swimming and yargging in our pirate pool that one time.
at least he lost his v-card with a bang... or should i say the clap.
I passed out on my porch last night. I'm still making it to class. This is what growing up means.
Theres was an instant understanding between us being drunk on the trampoline at four in the morning and the people walking down the road at the same time
I need someone to meet me at the end of the road and throw captain morgan at my face like they do with water at marathons
It all boils down to, who else do we know that is willing to buy our friendship?
This morning I learned I traded my sunglasses for a Big Lebowski sticker at the football game.
So Monday we're lesbians.
Deal. This decision is final and any rebates on this will result in losing an eyeball.
She was lying on the table chugging back something when the table broke
She kept going
Our lady landlord called. Dot worry, I handled it. Drunk. Tell her it was Nate. Done. Good. Bye. Drunk.
pretty sure tht was the guy who once went to the club dressed as waldo. he still looks weirdly fuckable.
He was an asshole the entire night and then tried to touch my dick in a Michaels craft store.
Sooooo, no second date?
of all the things that should kill me, scurvy wont be one of them
He gave me a brownie at the beginning of class and now I can't feel my face.
I'm listening to a women in metal station and wearing a flannel. I may have approached peak lesbian.
Randomize
