I am going to get arrested. I am yelling fuck repeatedly, wearing a Bird jersey and polka dot pants while pounding wine. Amazing mug shot to follow.
Things found in my vomit last night: cell phone, Von Hayes rookie card, a boot, my dignity
The meeting is at the same hotel we go to for sex. Avoiding eye contact with all the staff there.
Got my bloodwork back and my liver is in tip top shape. Apparently blacking out 5 nights a week isn't cutting it, so we've got to step it up until I see that all of my hard work is actually paying off and doing some damage.
Just doin' what I do best: sitting in a stall in the class building's bathroom, pondering life and exploring deep, dark corners of the internet before class.
I'm at work. It's margarita night. Someone literally just shouted "MURICUH!"
God bless us, everyone.
Alright, text me when you get close. I've got a mustache and I'm ready to get my day drunk on.
Let's just say we ended up at Denny's with a strippers shoe that we had to discreetly leave at the door to the strip club this morning
I woke up in someone's flat in Budapest and then got offered a free piercing before I left. Best. Hookup. Ever.
Saying I've had more balls in my mouth than you is the last clear, coherent thing I remember.
I already left my house once this summer. Maybe we could do something in October.
It's like jay gatsby himself preordained that our genitals meet again.
Mom has wine in a to go cup. It's that kind of night.
OF COURSE I FUCKED HIM! Did you not read the part about him having red and green Christmas condoms?
Fuuuuuck dude, he’s got #Excel in his Facebook bio; I’m screaming
Randomize
