You kept making up "snapple facts" every time you opened a beer.
What started as a "classy" double date ended with Jeremy and I tripping our balls off and talking to the refrigerator while the girls cried on the couch and questioned where their lives were heading.
Moment of the night: you were impatient while I paid for the tequila shots and proceeded to lick and salt MY hand for me. This is why we're roommates.
Would it be out of line to take a picture of all the earrings, rings, hairclips, and other miscellaneous girl items that I found under my bed and post it on facebook and tag all the girls that I slept with this year so they can claim their shit and get it out of my house?
Trying to take a nap and my brain decides to play "lets have flashbacks every time you blew it with a chick in college". It's a montage of stupidity and youthful inexperience. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.
I mean, how am I going to build a relationship on trust if he finds out I roofied him?
Damn it. Can't order pizza. Can't do the hot tub. No one to invite over for loud, kinky sex. What's the point of being here alone?!
Because I'm currently dying, lacking waffles, and vaguely convinced I'm an eagle
I'm just impressed that you can puke without losing your gum
I don't know what you slipped me, but my TV is vomming blood right now. Thanks, jerkoff.
Tequilla is a sneaky bitch ninja that doesn't kick in until you least expect it. Then BAM! You're peeing in unconventional places.
You can say goodbye to our security deposit.
Already? What he do?
Opened a bag of topsoil at the party and spread it all over the living room. TOPSOIL!
Lies! You took my virginity, and now my cigarettes!
After 8 hours of circus trick sex, his parents are both hugging me and kissing me on the cheek asking when I'm coming back over. Score?
Finding my pants in the morning should not make me this proud
Randomize
