My roommate got wasted last night and went to the 24 hour Bally's Total Fitness at 3 A.M. He got back took his shirt off, made a protein shake, puked, asked me if he was almost as jacked as Ronnie Coleman then called ME gay before I could say anything and went to bed
you told me to make out with him to promote the social success of the sorority
no jill really. Evrything around me is talking to me. The plant, my dog, the tv,the lamp. Its amazing.
Just found a "how to get laid" book on the dresser and am now a victim of method number 16 corollary 7.
beware of the wheat thins...there might be a knife in it
It's not quite a landing strip... It's more like a soul patch for my vagina.
They set the pop up pool in the basement-running filter and all. Drunk swimming. Come now.
id say bad/good trip...at first I wanted to claw off my skin... but then when i tried i ended up tickling myself for an hour.
Even her dad came up for the body shots. Wasn't sure what to do so I just laid there and let it happen...
Nothing like cleaning dried puke off your floor to make you feel like you've failed as an adult.
There are two types of people in this world I don't trust: people who collect stamps, and people who don't drink
She asked if i could guess "what shape her carpet was". I got it wrong (christmas tree).
Oddly enough I feel totally fine now. Clonazapam and red bull the breakfast of champions.
His favorite stripper is going to jail. He's taking it pretty hard
Is it bad I have to get shitty ass drunk on a Monday night because I can't adult?
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