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.
I just had sex with a black guy. He told me I had a big dick. I think that's God's way of saying it's okay to be gay.
the trail of clothing leading from the bed to the door was in the exact order i needed to put them on. underwear near the bed shoes by the door.
I am seriously considering thanking Macallan 18 in my thesis acknowledgments.
And the clouds opened up and the sex gods said I hate you alfalfa
Also, I threw up on the playground again. I've honestly had more fun there this past summer than I did in my entire childhood.
I pretty much have hash tequila and gelato for dinner every night
I'm over this relationship. I'm just going to get drunk all day, wake up in a puddle of my own vomit again, and go on with my life
It was darkish out, I was shit faced, and they should have marked the electric fence a little more clearly. The entire wedding reception saw me run full force into it
Tell me why I woke up spooning a hamburger like it was a teddy bear.
There is a video on my phone of me suckling a bag of wine from your crotch area while you say "The Body of Christ" in a Michigan accent. I vaguely remember being offended by this yet I did it anyway.
How do you get the "hangs out with drunk assholes" insurance
Never go to your parents' super bowl party. I learned, in great detail, "Why Aunt Trisha is a hoe" Not enough beer on the eastern seaboard.
I know you think you’re ready to graduate but just keep these things in mind: taxes, I get up at 5 AM every morning, I have to buy vegetables when I go grocery shopping, and I can’t wear sweat pants to work. Take that victory lap and enjoy the sweat pants and bar hopping because it goes downhill real quick.
I suppose writing him up is more professional than keying his car.
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