We're playing Edward Bottle-of-eight-dollar-sale-wine-hands now
Poopin on the sidewaaalllkkk. I wish my text told you that was a song
conquered wheelchair sex. it's rather convenient. you'd think it was made for it, with all those handles and adjustable features.
My favorite part was walking in the bathroom, you fixing yourself in the mirror, calling your reflection a fag, then throwing a haymaker into the paper towel dispenser before going back out to the bar.
Well, I'm off to go seduce a gay man. In 10 years when I'm 300 pounds, sitting in a mumu surrounded by my 500 cats, remind me of this text. That way I can be like "ohhh THERE'S where I went wrong!!"
a 6'8" white kid in a Lin jersey just wandered out of my gay kid brother's room. when does spring break end, again?
She was drunk and naked on our couch, sweating and masterbating to SNL. We made eye contact and she didn't even stop. It's new-roommate-o-clock
At least I got to make out with you a little before you proposed.
He told me we were going to a cabin. It's just logs and a tarp made into walls. This night can go either way at this point.
Bar selfie Saturday turned into bar nudie Saturday in a hurry. I need to delete my snapchat...
Driving from bar to bar trying to recover all of the possessions I've drunkenly lost over the course of the past few nights. Actual nadir of my life and absolute height of shamblyness.
Props for using the word nadir
I just licked a piece of cheese off my phone screen if that makes you feel any better
Some days you ride the struggle bus. Other days, it gets a flat, the AC breaks, and you run over a bunny.
we're tipping the strippers with chocolate coins.
Just landed in Atlanta. Still drunk. I can't feel my face
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