You admitted to me in secrecy that you want to jerk off a unicorn.
he came on my stomach, took his sock off, wiped it up, put his sock back on along with his shoes and left.
Or I die of a heart attack, which is the more likely/less fun scenario.
I don't know what you told him but please make him stop telling me about his new video camera and winking
I went out in a blaze of glory. I failed the field sobriety test by saying ABCD FUCK YOU.
I'm also 3/4 on the frats. Its like my goal of traveling to all 7 continents, but different somehow and a lot less morally sound.
btw theres a pine tree in the downstairs shower. the guys thought it would be a great free air freshener.
It was like an alcohol war zone and you left a soldier behind.
All I want is to send a text that says "i slept with someone while wearing nothing but purple argyle socks this weekend." But the only person i would send that to is you. But you already know. Because they were your socks.
I think it says something about my sobriety when I don't notice a Taco Bell wrapper stuck to my ass until I'm in the shower...
After that song played in the club all he kept drunkenly saying was "Birdman goes brrrrrr"
I'd tell u there's strippers to make you get here faster, but that would be a blatant lie... There's strippers here.
Just sent my mother the text "we need to get our vaginas looked at this thursday". Hows your day going?
You'll never fully grasp an awkward walk of shame until you run into his mom while you're trying to sneak out. Then to make matters worse you have to ask her to mover car because it's blocking you in.
and I lost my effing shirt.
one nice thing about being home: no walks of shame, just drives of shame
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