It was as awful as eating cow testicles on fear factor and not winning and realizing you ate balls for nothing.
No fireworks. Throwing the old microwave off the deck.
Well some days you just have to get blackout drunk and try to speak Spanish to French Canadian strangers
You need to stop blackout tweeting at him to have sex with you on the roof of your dorm. He doesn't even have a twitter.
Stoned, and eating Doritos, and reading about lesbians for class. This is the life.
So, last night I fell asleep sitting Indian-style on the floor, propped up against the front of the couch with an empty wine bottle in between my legs... How was your night?
Shit my boyfriend's roommate thinks thinks: I love getting woken up to the sound of my roommate getting a blowjob
We put a ban on pants at an unusually early point in the night.
This morning I woke up in the entrance of a retirement home. Memory fragments from last night: making it rain with the contents of my wallet over the bridge, getting hit by a car, and a lot of running.
Blizzard, Hour 9: I'm 7 beers deep and have finished Ninja Turtles. I am listening to the NYPD and Nassau Fire Dept pipes and drums and writing new drum scores in my head, which I may or may not remember tomorrow
I want to have sex with Will Smith. I guess I have a thing with 90s sitcom stars. Stamos, Joey Lawrence, John Goodman.
He's 30 years old and woke me up for a hand job. Last time I go home with someone I met through Tinder.
Oh man. I am high, watching The Office and getting pancakes. What a country.
there were rolls with just one bite out of each one leading to the bedroom. you were laying on the bed naked and yelled 'you did it you followed the bread crumbs!'
I duct taped a bottle of vodka to the back of your closet while you were sleeping in case of emergencies. Go rip it off, it's going to be a long night.
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