I'm going to an arts college, I live next to the frat houses, and my room number is 420. god has plans for me and I couldn't be happier.
My tally is now official: I have been drunk every weekend since 2008. Cheers.
I can't tell you details but at one point I had her pee strapped to my back in a ziploc
Well it looked like you were having a fucking apiphany sitting at the toilet with a t shirt around your head
I need a therapist, but moreover we are going to be really drunk.
Are you alive?
I googled "I don't want to vomit anymore," and "how to rip out your uvula," at 9 am this morning, but I'm still here. Uvula and all.
You're alright. You just passed out while we were having sex. Then I'm pretty sure you peed. So I went home.
I just sat in the bathtub with the shower running so I could eat the whole box of mega stuffed Oreos. What am I doing with my life
I think the exact words were 'I'd lett him to the weirdest shit to me'
Come over. And we'll put iced coffee in the bong.
I’m a coke loving, addy selling, pot smoking CRIMINOLOGY major. If there isn't irony in that I give up.
Bacardi 151 is like a past nightmare I'm still curious about
the last thing I remember is taking a pull of ever clear and chasing it with vodka
Questions: How did Rachel get home? Why did I find both her ID's in my shoes? And does anyone know if she's alive?
Someone's gotta tell him drunk sex comes before dating
Randomize
