I had a dream last night that I was the one that killed Biggie
he saw my emergency pass-out-in-the-bathroom-after-drunken-puking cot in the bathroom.
Fighting the police is like screwing a fat girl, if I'm drunk enough I'll do it
just weighed my balls on my pocket scale. that high.
The waitress bought us a round. She said if anyone could do 52 margarita mondays in a row, it was us.
So I've gone into the break room to heat up a styrofoam cup 8 times over the course of 4 hours.. that desperate to see him. Now I have a broken heart AND cancer.
that's probably because you left your arm in the fishtank for 90% of the night
good news: I made it out of bed and into shower. Bad news: I made it back to bed without clothes. Worse news: I don't know this bed.
when I was too drunk to walk on my own two feet, he stole a shopping cart from the grocery store at the corner and proceeded to wheel me back to my apartment.
Then he tucked me in, gave me a goodnight kiss and slept on my sofa. I woke up this morning and he was making waffles.
he is a god among men.
Cops just came and got two guys out of my class. I can't do college. Seriously cannot rage at this school anymore.
Maybe just the first 2 wks of Nov can be dick detox.
Come to the roof. We are drinking breakfast.
Fine line between drunken accidental sleepover with your best friend's lab partner and gay sexathon. I did a cartwheel over that line. A CARTWHEEL THAT LANDED IN HIS LAP
do you remember yelling out "insecurity makes my pussy dry!" unnecessarily loud at the bar?
I loaned him a tie and then had to tie it for him. I'm like his weird lesbian girlfriend.
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