I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
He snuck into some random hotel's continental breakfast at 3 AM and then passed out on a bench in the lobby. When the cops found him they made him empty out his pockets. No phone, no ID just muffins.
She is chewing on staples and spitting them at her cat, I think it's time to leave..
At the time, making out with dudes for keg money seemed like a genius idea. Now I realize it was borderline prostitution.
I seriously might throw up right now. In class. Sunglasses on. I'm getting too old for this.
St Patricks Day is not the day you decide to have a sober epiphany.
Can't promise anything, there's vodka in my thermos
Well at least it wasn't the first time I threw up out of a second story window
He was so drunk he was throwing the bowling balls into other lanes on purpose. He still beat my high score thought.
I was cracked out naked on a toilet pretending I was posing for playboy.. Shit got weird, but apparently I had a good bday.
she sent me a picture of dilf asleep in bed with the caption "what happened last night?"
I wiped my ass with some girl's sock, I would honestly admit if I hate Caitlin's sandwich.
I can't believe you tried to cock block me from A DIFFERENT TIME ZONE.
I want you to worship my cock.
That's not how you start a conversation.
Dude, you screamed I AM THE WALRUS while giving a statue of Ronald McCdonald a lapdance. You were NOT sober.
Randomize
