Paul doesn't remember going to the bar and slept on someone's porch...doesn't know whose porch...maybe near Howard U.
We were done making out and had been asleep for a hour. I felt him put his hand on my butt. Then I farted.
I put my bosses number in my phone as "Do not call," I shouldve known my drunk curiosity would overcome any desire I had to keep my job.
again?
I just puked behind a tree outside work, then walked past my manager with puke in my hair. Man, I'm gonna miss this when I get a real job.
Just living on dreams and a bed of used condoms
Somebody really needs to come home and pick up the used condom from the middle of the wood room floor. It's blue, if that helps decide who comes - uh, home.
I feel like we should build an island for girls that have committed atrocious numbers of unforgivable sins. We'll call it 'whore island' after the anchorman fashion.
Of the two of us, which one has licked a drag queen's tit in the past 5 days?
Well I just had a 45 minute conversation with a lady who was drunk off her ass complaining about how her 3 sons won't talk to her anymore. No more dive bars.
There really needs to be a redbox for wine because I want some but too lazy to walk into a store
I haven't been that free with the boobs since I was 19. I'm putting them away for a while.
If you insist
The one guy literally flopped my boob out. Yes I insist.
We get drunk and make out in different places. Is that what love is?
I've finally given up enough on finals week to wear the same shirt three days in a row, because I didn't take my hoodie off for the first two.
While he was going down town Julie brown, I was eating French fries. True Love
I'm not going out, it's sweat pants and gallon vodka night at my place and I'm the only one on the guest list.
This is because you lost at fooseball isn't it?
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