I left the party when things started to get crazy... and when I say crazy I mean: there was puke on the carpet, Evan was passed out behind a plant, Mary was making out with her ex while her present bf was making out with Nancy. Not to mention that someone fisted the wall. Also - someone is sleeping on your lawn - they might be dead, I didn't check. Later.
Sam from lord of the rings is 10 yards away from me, i am creaming myself.
you walked into the kitchen holding the skyy bottle and asked us "how do i warm this?"
He was singing Will Smith Just the Two of Us to his burrito. That high.
So...i'm having a drinking contest, my right hand vs my left, i have a feeling the 24 pack is gonna win
her and i fucked to a michael jackson song and she had it memorized so she squealed every time he did
Cause I came home. Im covered in green marker and jack daniels. Theres a taco and the words "we went to Mexico" on my wrist. Im a walking abomination.
Yes, i finally made it. but let me tell you...i can smell myself right now in class right now, this scent is called alcoholism.
yolo... Doesn't that stand for 'shut the fuck up'?
If 26 stitches didn't sober her up, nothing will.
Well, it's a fine line between people-watching and boob-staring. It's a gray area. But we're in Paris. Let's leave it at that.
Things I have learnt this week: bubble mix is toxic. Extremely toxic.
TYLER OWES ME SO MUCH
I LET A CREEPY MAN I DONT KNOW SUCK ON MY NIPPLES
I'm hungover from the 8pm vodka and still drunk from the 5am beer.
All I remember thinking is, why the fuck are there martians on the ceiling? And they were riding fruit. Like strawberries and shit.
Randomize
