Apparently last night I sat at the bar with an upside down sharpie lightning bolt on my forehead, yelling "It's Harry Potter's birthday! Let me be on the qudditch team!" And I kept calling the bartender Dobby. There are videos.
Update. It gets worse. A) he's done viagra and B) he wears socks at all times.
you're in nursing school, now tell me what to do about a burned clit.
"Tuesday" and "open-bar" shouldn't be used in the same sentence.
He kept insisting that I was going to have an orgasm but it just felt like he was rubbing sand paper on my vagina
Walking back from greek row alone at 3:30am in a child's kangaroo suit...not my proudest moment
And im sorry for wishing your girlfriend gets genital warts.
i feel like i am carryihg a baby. a baby made of alcohol.
I dont care how drunk you were. Making a bet with MY husband at MY wedding that you could seal the deal before he could is ALWAYS inappropriate!
BABIES FOR EVERYONE. I'd be like Oprah except with babies
If you've never been partying there before, take Shae with you. Drunk Shae is like a GPS. She found us the only bottle shop still open at four, a pot dealer, and told us all which subway to take to get home. She'd never been to Madrid before. It was awesome.
So many Oreos I'm regretting this decision already but I'm happy at the same time...The straddle is real
Struggle. Not straddle. I'm not straddling anyone.
I’m really regretting these suede pants.
she is currently in the shower drinking a beer and dancing to a song called "the penis song" my roommate is cooler than yours
All I remember was my mom walking through the door, and then me asking her if she wanted a hit.
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