lesson #67 learned in college: a three day old margarita, is still a margarita.
Yo, if someone calls you asking for John Stamos, just go with it.
I just got hit on by my highschool french teacher. I need to stop going to this bar.
You're going to have to buy me a lot of drinks before the bee suit goes on...
vodka bottle broke. scooping it out of the plastic tub with a shot glass into a sprite bottle using a ziplock bag as a funnel and straining the glass out with paper towels. good thursday night?
you puked on the porch, i can see your jacket on the floor next to your underwear. i know your home, unchain the door, you're the worst roommate ever.
i woke up to something itchy on my head. it was his mustache. he fell asleep face-plant style on the side of my head. WTF?
I didnt think the feeling of accomplishment for fucking brothers would be this great.
Every bar we ever go to has a woman there who hates him. Getting so much vagina has never seemed so not glorious
the chips you spilled whiskey on is not the same thing as Irish breakfast potatoes
I remember halftime. Then I woke up in Spain. I need a drink in order to process this.
To be clear, the next time I wake up with your dick inside me, I will reach down and grab one and squeeze until it pops like a grape. You've been warned.
ted dressed as a cardinal led an expedition across campus. i felt like one of the 12 apostles.
That's a good 5 hours of "I have no fucking idea what I did".
Whatever, ill dance on the bar at applebees, don't try and act like you're above it.
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