Family bonfire. I just discovered my cousin drank an entire bottle of champagne at the age of 7. I just got showed up.
4 am. She strained the mac and cheese onto her legs. She has no skin.
Sorry for drunk singing "love hurts" to you at 3 am.
Never again. I promise. My old gay body can't handle that much adrenaline twice.
I accidentally got a lemon stuck in your bong. I was trying to make it taste good. Sorry
I can't believe I left out the part about him peeing on the side of Route 2 at 3 a.m. while wearing a dress.
That's why we don't trade sex for Taco Bell. It's called the dollar menu.
Showering in not my own throw up is really hittin the spot right now.
I totally straight up jacked your pants. I am so sorry.
I told her to not worry about it. Lone Star is an excellent first trimester beer.
Well, I can now cross "dirty drunk homeless hobo" off of my bucket list of people who have been successful wingmen for me. North Carolina is getting weird.
We have an albino peacock in our apartment. It's beautiful.
Scratch it being beautiful, bitch just stole my McDonalds. Call animal control.
Getting so old my power naps are turning into, "can I reasonably just go to bed at this time?"
My books smell like weed. What does that tell you about my college experience?
Thumbs up
Officially hit an ultimate low today. I was so hung-over I threw up on the ground in front of the jousting display in the London tower. But on a positive note, Brits are very understanding when you vomit on their history.
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