the smoke from my cigarette strangely resembles what patrick swayzes ghost will look like.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. I drunk emailed a professor on friday. Oh my god. Oh my god.
If i'm not hungover, near death, and wondering what i did the night before on Monday, life is not worth living.
the vast amounts of cleavage i'm sporting to my final says "no, I didn't study but don't worry I've got something lined up for when I don't graduate".
They were greeting people getting off the 48 with green beers and cheers. The one day I decide not to take the bus home...
Seriously, in what other class can the final major discussion be what bar you're going to with your prof?
You can't call dibs 8 years later.
All I know is....there's beer in my camera. How do I know? Because I can pick up my camera,shake it and HEAR, the beer in it
Just specific performance'd my way into her pants. I literally said specific performance and that shit worked. Thanks B. Law!
I finally had to say "that's the hole where I pee" for him to understand.
He stopped in the middle of us banging in order to check in for his Southwest flight.
rest in peace liver.
It was nice having you occupy space in my body that could be holding beer n chicken.
that's going in my livers obituary.
Remind me to NEVER AGAIN mix beer with tequila with beer with whiskey with vodka with rum with vodka.
She was talking about how a garden gnome was hitting on her the whole night. We thought she was just that high, but turned out the gnome was that guy in the weird hat.
We left an ass print on the conference room table, but I don’t think anyone caught on
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