I'm going to write a book about John. It's going to be called big dreams, little dick
still doesn't change the fact you were dunking your sock in the toilet.
I'm hard boiling eggs, drinking rum, and talking to my 8 year old brother about the 10's times tables. This is what thursday is all about.
Last thing I remember was you straddling a guy in a wheelchair on the dance floor.
We still need to grow old, buy a house, and drink 40's while wearing old people sunglasses, staring at the young studs mowing our lawn.
You take your time. Wallowing in last nights filth is the best way to get over a hangover
I just threw up over a bridge. I didn't even know there was a bridge in this town. Vodka is like a transportation device.
You challenged yourself to walk backwards all the way to the bar... And you did
My goal for the night is to see your housemate's one lonely teste.
You have mono. It's like being pregnant, your are excused from normal social niceties like responding to people.
First week is awesome. Freshman girls prancing around everywhere like newborn baby deer looking for a dick to jump on
It's Jesse McGoddamn Cartney, the whole world sings that shit
DICK-CITY HERE WE COME
My lease is up and I've been thinking, it's only fair that the guys I've fucked in this apartment in the past year help me move. They enjoyed the bed, now help me move it.
We left an ass print on the conference room table, but I don’t think anyone caught on
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