Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
mondays should just be called national damage control day
sudden memory flashback: you and i having sex on the bed, erin sitting naked in your desk chair drinking whiskey straight from the bottle while harassing you for your computer password to play some "mood music." high five. go us.
Note to self: You can't deep fry cheese-its.
Almost made out with Amanda but I told her "I'm in a committed fake lesbian relationship with Laura. I can't."
You insisted we put glow sticks on you so that we didn't lose you if you went pee in the dark.
I drunk dialed my ex-boyfriend last night. He was sitting next to my new boyfriend. Shoot me in the face.
I CAN CONTROL MY GERBIL WITH MY BREATH. HE FOLLOWS THE SMELL. PROBABLY WOULDNT BE AS EXCITING IF I WASNT HIGH OFF MY ASS, BUT STILL
We knew it was a good time to leave when you spilt the salsa on the ground and were trying to put it back in the jar with your hands
I approve. Last time I was there, I left E's room to get a drink of water. Found M sitting on the kitchen counter in his boxers hammered and eating a banana. He proceeded to feed me the rest of his banana then went to bed with the lights on. You two will be great.
My day went from bad to worse when I realized I puked out my second floor window last night.
AND I HAVE A NICE COCK! A STRIPPER TOLD ME SO IT MUST BE TRUE!
I made a nest in his bed. I'm not leaving
We were getting breakfast he shit himself in the middle of ihop. Mid bite he just yells out o fuck.
I don't know how I got home but I'm pretty sure the guy in my closet had something to do with it
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