so i completely puked my brains out. a lot. he held me up so i could brush my teeth. then we proceeded to hook up for the next four hours.
he's a keeper
update: the house isnt on fire anymore, but he is still pissing on all your stuff.
the house was on fire??
shit I thought I told you.
Woke up with feathers in my hair. at work. still drunk. sooo awkward.
Nothing says Christmas like gin and tears.
I know it's not your turn to do the dishes, but since they're covered in your puke, it is.
Hung over. Bed full of legos for some reason. Not getting up. Come build stuff with me.
remind me not to fuck anymore half bald 20 year olds. because obviously there's attachment issues
I think a girl on my floor is watching zombie porn. There is literally no other description for the noise coming from her room.
I would say "man cannot subsist on sexting and brownies alone" but I think it's actually possible.
Going back to the ever classy sneak out to the fridge and swig liquor from the bottle method. That it is legal for me to drink here makes the fact that I have to do this all the more depressing.
We both fell asleep mid-handjob and he continued to call it "handjob halftime".
I've decided to become a librarian so I can drunkenly quote The Mummy and have it be legit.
i sent him a picture of his friend's dick and told him he should really stop thinking he's my only option.
I swear to God if you start calling your dick “my pegasus” we’re not friends anymore
where the fuck are you? she just tazed two people and we're tripping shrooms...successful first night in new apartment!
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