I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
turns out the website for Dick's Sporting goods is not "dicks.com". It was a win either way.
At one point during the moaning he reminded me of Forrest Gump
Hmm. I hear gunshots, car horns blaring, hear drunk white people screaming, and see about fifty status updates pertaining to the hawks. I guess they won.
Will you come get her? She's trying to get the pizza guy into the bathtub.
I'm sick of being broke. I had vicodin and frosting for lunch.
I don't not like him. It's just wierd talking to him because we both know I fucked his wife.
Dude, she found the red hair dye from 4th of July. then she proceeded to give you a red mohawk for a more patriotic thanksgiving eve. How do you not remember that?
Calling a preemptive no homo on tonight's activities
I mean you would really have to try to not have fun at a party that doesn't require pants....
Literally had to stick my hands in my pants and hold my butt cheeks together while driving
And I wasn't prepared because its been a very long and lonely season and I wasn't expecting to find dick at Press Box trivia night....
Hey the moment you step into my house, find me IMMEDIATELY so we can pinky promise on not roping anyone at the party into yet another threesome
I wrote myself a note last night telling me to tell you that you're the best person ever, and asking you not to tell me what I did, I think I'm trusting my drunk judgment on that one.
There’s a stripper dressed like a slutty pilgrim. Is that a thing?
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