I'm waiting for seagulls to eat this throw up
yeah, but that could mean anything in Denmark.
and I didnt even know his name until this morning when we were laying in bed and he referred to himself in the 3rd person.
You would get kicked out of the study lounge for being drunk the monday of finals week
Uh, also, Rob told me he felt bad for choking you.
TOMORROW NIGHT CAN I HOLD YOU LIKE A BABY
Scratch that. Good bye liver, good bye clothes, good bye dignity. Hello awesome weekend
I think I've officially made out with the entire starbucks staff.
I consider it a good night. I met Jimmy Buffet, who grabbed my ass, and I body-checked a toddler. She had it coming.
Remember when I referred to my box of wine as my briefcase and made all of those stupid jokes about working overtime? Thanks for ignoring my cry for help.
Let us do this. Tomorrow night is thirsty Thursday. Let us drink whiskey from the bottle and have men in plastic gloves inscribe permanent images of each others faces onto our buttocks.
He called it restless penis syndrome. I call it cheating.
You went streaking and came back with your shirt inside out. Then said "it happens in the line of duty" and passed out.
The sad part is I didn't even want to get laid. I just wanted the emotional connection, but my vagina was screaming "TOUCH ME. TOUCH ME RIGHT NOW BECAUSE MY DADDY ISSUES ARE MUCH DEEPER THAN MY EMOTIONAL NEEDS!" Vodka has a way of getting me out of my emotions and gets me fucked every time.
It began the way the best stories do—with some naïve jackasses in a place they had no business being at.
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