I don't know at least half of his name. I have officially become a statistic.
We lived together for a year and neither of us knew we were both gay.
I won't go into too much detail about this but you should probably wash your sheets. In bleach. Or just burn them. Thanks for letting me sleep in your bed bro. Enjoy scotland.
If you're that baked in a class full of people that know you're that baked you tend to offer up a peace offering. Its like the burrito of trust! If eaten you are now obligated to help maintain my grades and keep me from falling out of my chair. $3.75 a morning is worth it for that mafia type protection!
It has become abundantly clear why you give me pixie stix when you're drunk now...
Dude. There's gotta be an article in Cosmo about it cause I've had three different girls tongue tickle my brownie this month.
she stopped traffic so I could crutch across the street. Clubbing while crippled and drunk is different.
You can wear my underwear. It'll be like old times.
I woke up and found a doughnut on our front porch. It's not sketchy though. More like a gift from the gods.
I WILL BE THE BEST FICTITIONAL HISTORICAL FIGURE FOR THE FEMENIST MOVEMENT THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN
Your brother slept on my deck. There was a key under the mat. Relapse party success.
Can I come by? I want you to meet my squirrel
I'm gonna die. First I'm gonna throw up. But then I'm gonna die.
I say I'm working from home on conference call days, but really I just mute the phone, put that shit on speaker so I can hear what's going on, and let Marcus fuck my brains out.
We got drunk, we had raw sex and we discussed about the showrunner change in Doctor Who, in that order.
But if you move out who will get drunk with me on the roof and yell at boys?!?
Randomize
