Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
So we tried to 69 with him on top. NEVER TRY IT. His balls were in my eyes and it was terrifying.
Renamed my iPod as 'the titantic' so when I plug it in it's says 'the titantic is syncing.'
You kept running into the wall most of the night. When people asked you what you were doing you told them you were the kool-aid man and there was little kids on the other side of the wall who needed your juice
you know you've made it when it's your own pool table you're waking up on
I'm ultimately at thr Shariton to drink and ppssibly puke on fancy shit. Thats my story and Im sticking to it.
Drinking gin at a party, riding a giant inflatable walrus all around the living room.
Girl, he can't tell you not to take a bump just because you work tomorrow. You're on a wedding diet, remember?
We just got home a lil bit ago. No sorority girls showed except the ugly swimmer chick and she asked if I've ever faked an orgasm.
Would it be playing god to put spaghetti on my pizza?
Ah. Hot spring. Infinitely less skeevy than a hot tub. These North Carolinian dudes are all class.
Why can't all sociopaths be as fabulous as me?
In my life time, I want nothing more than to get a blow job while watching Space Jam.
My toothbrush tastes like captain morgan
I'm jealous
And here I am, playing fetch with my cat at two in the morning.
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