Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
I've never been 12-exclamation-point-excited for sex. That must have been good.
I'm eating lunch next to a table of beautiful culturally-diverse women chattering away happily. It's like sitting next to a Yaz commercial.
If I don't wake up hungover in a ditch Monday morning I will consider my halloween a failure
I don't remember his name but he sat in the bathroom and gave us both advice...
My roommate made me go home after I mooed at fat girls at the gas station.
unfortunetly they frown upon drunk on duty paramedics
The last thing I remember is feeding country fried steak to my best friend in a bubble bath with my bare hands.
He never answered about passing his structures test no matter how I asked him. He did send a text saying that he would be "pouring alcohol into his head and balls" so I'm guessing he has to retake the whole class.
I think I died last night.
Yeah, you got carried home
All I remember is laying in that secret hideaway closet, naked, with a beer cowboy hat on and you walking in and sitting down crying because no one would have sex with you
I walked into Anna's room this morning and she was like teary eyed, with pizza sauce all over the place
I totally have a huge crush on him though which is fucking up my "classy she-demon with limited feelings" vibe
I'm in Florida in a retirement community the fuck am I supposed to do but watch tv and disgrace Jesus
I ripped ass in on and around her face during a hard 69. I don't think she'll ever call me again.
Randomize
