wait one more day. tuesday is my official "i hit on you and/or we hooked up this weekend" friend request day.
His apartment number was 69. I had to.
I am only moving my arms so I remember that I can. These brownies are wild.
We got security called on us. Apparently the wedding down the street didn't appreciate the trespassing or our loud as fuck rendition of We Are Young.
All that fucking tequilla made my head feel like it's inside of a body builder's asshole. He's doing squats.
Let's just say after this weekend I'm known as Shameous the Irish bar fighter.
theres 2 cans of open Campbell's soup on the counter and a note that says "guess which one is puke" ... want lunch?
So this whole chlamydia situation totally puts a damper on my back to school sex schedule, there's just no way of knowing who of them was the perpetrator... Time for new candidates
Whoever put the rooster in the elevator is my fucking hero. Who even thinks of that shit?
when you're a senior and the freshman guy you wake up next to asks who you are, you DO NOT give him your real name.
You sent me a picture of curly fries with no explanation attached. This is the first time you've texted me in 2 months.
Found some boxer briefs on my patio table this morning surrounded by a case worth of empties. Starting to remember why I have rugburn and a sore asshole.
Well I shit myself on the way home from work today so there's that...
The last thing I remember is trying to chug the rest of the everclear, running through a fence, and laying down in the snow. I hurt.
He's a wizard, there is no other explanation for how hard I came last night. None.
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