Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. I drunk emailed a professor on friday. Oh my god. Oh my god.
She called me in the morning crying, but I was busy cleaning up bird guts, very hungover. It was a very surreal morning.
That's why I don't chug things. Because when I was a freshman in college tequila came out my nose.
They set the pop up pool in the basement-running filter and all. Drunk swimming. Come now.
Drank a fosters this weekend and last weekend. Listening to down under 5 times a day. Spent 100 dollars on a sleeveless men at work shirt circa 1983. We don't leave for another 5 weeks. I call it pregaming.
Not a clue. But I did find out that his penis has a British accent.
Come my child we shall walk thru the pasture of amazing sex and corndogs. Hint:some corndogs are not corndogs.
just found out I was hugging strangers at the bar last night. there's photographic evidence. I know none of them
If you don't let me come over I'm gonna call you on speaker and you have to listen to her scream and moan too
I'm gonna have to shit in a bar again tonight
Well shove his head down there and tell him not to stop til we have a new president!
I still can't believe a guy pooped in my backyard
It's not even a normal fucking affair I've found myself in. It's a fucking bdsm clusterfuck.
i keep smelling vagina and donuts, which pretty much sumarises this morning. happy birthday.
why is half of my head shaved?
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