I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
i went to go through my sent box of drunk texts from last night and they were all deleted... i'm going to assume drunk me made the executive decision that sober me would be better off not knowing what they said
I'm trying to decide if I want to bring home my 'beer champion' trophy or my chem books.
it wasn't the penis i had been hoping for.....but i took it regardless.
The last thing I remember is ordering two Martinis while yelling 'CAN YOU PUT THAT IN ONE GLASS?'
After giving a back rub to someone in the bathroom of the theater, he ripped an "employees must wash hands" sign off the wall to prove that he could and proceeded to hang it up in his house.
And then you asked me why my legs were so thick and started measuring them with a ruler
Also cheers for the reminder to check last night's texts. It's been a magical adventure through drunk me's thought process.
I'm dying. The alcohol is viciously exiting my tiny body.
This question may sound intrusive, but how did pushing out a baby affect your vagina?
My boobs just got me out of my third ticket last night
i'm so proud. i woke up to nearly seven feet of basketball player in my bed this morning
you win. again.
My moral compass cannot be waived by two measly bloody Mary's
I would ride that face into the sunset
Went to open youtube this morning, and the last search was "ten hours of whale sounds" Best pillow talk ever!
It began the way the best stories do—with some naïve jackasses in a place they had no business being at.
Randomize
