I gotta feeling the economic climate has killed the housewife market
Do you want the good news or bad news first?
bad news
The bad news is i thew up on your bed, the good news is i found out who ate your cheetos.
Then you jumped off your bed with your arms outstretched, yelled "I'm Goliath, watch out New York!" and then began singing the Gargoyles theme song as you 'soared' around your room.
Don't be ridiculous, the Gargoyles theme song has no words. How could I sing that mess?
You just started going "da da da da da! da da da da da! DA DA!!" then going "swoosh" as you glided about.
I told him that all frat guys do it... it was that easy to get him to go down on me.
The working title of my paper? "Tailgating: A Big Clusterfuck of Kids Who Dont Actually Give a Shit about Football"
I'm being fed tequila grapes by a girl on stilts...
Adderal just makes me love life. I want to do so much. I just can't stop thinking about all the wonderful opportunities we have and how lucky we are and I want to make a difference in the world. I just have to reign in my brain and convince it that changing the world starts with a college degree, which depends on studying for these finals.
Drunk me forgot I'm not an 18yr old raver anymore. Adult me is now in pain.
Remember camping when you drank 36 beers to yourself in one day and puked in your tent? Ready for round 2?
But the Super Mario beer pong table is more than appropriate.
He was too drunk, and my mother and I ended up babysitting him. He told her I have amazing mouth skills, and that I love the "chorizo" he feeds me. All she said was "And on the list of 30 things you never want to hear about your daughter..." while gripping the steering wheel.Please just fucking kill me now.
I told her it would be awesome. We are all the same people. One of us would always be drunk, one of us would always be hooking up, and one of us would always be crying into a pancake.
Like how hard is it to come up to me with chocolate and wine and say "hey, you're beautiful. Wanna marathon Doctor Who in sweatpants?" Hell yes!
You then played what you called "a smooth jazz rendition of talk dirty to me" all thrusting your crotch at the bartender. Mom looked horrified, but my dad couldn't stop laughing
Lesson Learned: It's not a party until someone pisses their pants.
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