There were 3 chicks in my bed I didn't know when I got home. Now I know all of them. Biblically.
Dude, can't find my socks anywhere....
Yeah, you took a shit in the harbor off a wall, used them to wipe. I'm sure they're still on the beach somewhere if you really want them back
I will never underestimate my ability to drunken ramble. At one point last night i think i was talking about hieroglyphics
I don't drink during the week.... well, except for Bailey's Tuesdays, which I have to start implementing further.
and thats when we got a drunken mammogram in the middle of cvs pharmacy
martini and pecan pie.. breakfast of champions.
I think he's on the stoner protein diet. I just saw him, at 3 am, spreading mayo on a slice of deli ham and sprinkling salt on top.
Everything gets a little fuzzy after the flats of jello shots, but I do have a vague recollection of being at the top of a large human pyramid
the fact that we had sex in the dining hall makes it seem so much more like home.
It took me fifteen minutes to go from puking on my doorstep infront of my old lady neighbor to legit presentable person able to care for children. Bronzing powder and I deserve an award.
I climbed out a window to pee last night because i thought i was locked in the room... Then crawled back in and went to bed. The poor neighbors.
We just fucked like crazy and now I'm dipping chips in macaroni & cheese. I feel completely accomplished. This may be the best day ever.
Hey, don't blame me for the shitty evening; I wasn't the one who promised hookers, Dos Equis and foster kittens. Keith was.
don't worry, i'll dog sit again, the barking made the sex better, its like he was cheering for us, we were just THAT good.
The last thing I remember was them slipping shots into my beer bong, and me being happy about it
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