I should be sponsored by Trojan
I woke up in my own vomit, a chunk of cactus in my thigh, shirtless, with jons mom poking at me with a glass of dr pepper and a talk about god....damn alcohol
he showed up at my house with a hand-stiched sweater that said "girlfriend?"
you insisted on breathalizing me with a inhaler.
Puking in one of the stalls, a guy ran in and started puking in the other stall... In between heaves we told each other our names; i found out that it was my old best friend that moved away in the 8th grade
I'm glad you trust me to be your sex stat keeper.
I would do laundry with you but I vaguely remember swallowing all my quarters last night as some kind of trick.
What was she thinking? I'm not in the business of charity fucks anymore.
My text message history should be ashamed of itself right now.
Come over so we can have two person sex in this one person tent
Less than a month to graduation and I'm still blacking out on the reg tonguing down the closest breathing organism preferably with a penis but I'm flexible, and still havent figured out how to be functional on Fridays. WHY don't they teach us valuable shit at this institution!?
Someone explain why I'm twerking in my bathroom right now before a charity run
I'm suffering a hangover from deep within. I feel like the half of the parts of my body are permanently laced with alcoholic substances
I feel like I should remember what we did after leaving the party because apparently a llama was involved, but all I can manage is the part where I asked you to cuff my ankle to the bed so I wouldn't backflip away.
They put me in room 420 every time and I take bubble baths and smoke in the room and they bring food TO MY BED
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