life lesson# 3: saying thank you on a subway really means "im not a native new yorker, so please feel free to touch my ass"
hmm. interesting. explain how you came across this knowledge.
i sneezed. he said bless you. i said thank you. he groped. i again said thank you.
Yet again my drunken self has managed to find his way into the middle of nowhere with no shoes or recollection of what happened last night.
Then I guess you don't remember me driving you there after you tried making out with my girlfriend, dipshit.
We're exchanging pot brownie recipes in my substance abuse class. This is going to be an awesome 7 weeks.
Two portable blenders. We are going to be popular and dangerous.
Seriously. There are at least 10 other people drinking at the bar with me at 10:40. Im justifying it with the fact that I've been up since 5am.
There's still flour in my hair. And I don't even want to know what the neighbors think happened infront of my house.
Nahh. Maybe not even a handful. It's more like a heaping teaspoon worth of dick.
it took us a while to figure out sex on a tire swing, buuuuuuuut MISSION ACCOMPLISHED
The word cocktail makes me want to rip my liver out and nail it to a cross.
The hookup that almost was... Both partys too drunk to migrate to the other.... the universe has won this one.
You get home ok?
Uh, you stopped by my house at 4 am and woke me up, so yeah.
Saved a second guy who was crying/on the verge of wigging out. Just call me the drug whisperer.
Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to pick up rum, beer, and cigarettes. Your holiday will self-destruct if you ignore this message.
Why is our fridge full of girl scout cookies and rum?
You told me to go grocery shopping.
Social anxiety problems: I just had to get up and change stalls mid-poop because someone sat down in the one next to mine.
Randomize
