I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
you were convinced campus grass and foliage would give you your daily serving of vegetables to balance out the amount of alcohol you drank.
Ok. In one sink is a hairdrier. Still plugged in. The other is filled with broken glass. What do I do?!
Nvm. Bloody hand trumps dead. Also, where is gauze.
Of course my walk of shame coincided with the alumni marathon on campus. But, I did get a thumbs up from the woman handing out water.
Dude he's not responding... I'll take that as an unpleasant visit to the clinic
We shall study the pictures later and see if his penis is worth my time.
Day #3 of being the only sober person at the bar. This is depression.
tell me why they applauded then the bartender locked himself in the bathroom when i walked into the bar today ????
Idk. I was speaking metaphorically. Go for it. As one of your bad decisions, I feel confident in saying you've done worse.
Having a heartfelt conversation with your boyfriends mom while sexting her son. If that's not multitasking, I don't know what is.
My poor liver. I drank enough on NYE to sustain an alcohol addiction for the entirety of 2015.
I don't know which is worse, the fact that his name is Kevin or the fact that he has a pornstache.
Well I kept shouting "you're groovy" at him and then I had a 15-minute argument with the bouncer about how many 9s there are in 100... it was definitely time to go home.
And change of plans today, I'm gonna lay in bed and eat taco bell and try not to die. Brazilians another day.
Intoxication Level: I'm as graceful and flawless as a fucking dinosaur.
Randomize
