So I went home with some chick last night... I'm not sue what's worse: not getting a nut at 5am, the condom breaking and not being replaced, feeling poo when I put my finger in her but, sleeping on a heroin mattress in her living room, her swine flu coughing fit at 7am or realizing she peed the matt at 10am. Actually it was probably the fact that she continuously told me she was the classiest girl in boulder.
Can one do a walk of shame from one's own hotel? Considering I just barfed in a planter down town in from of a bunch of business men in suits on my way to a work breakfast on a Wednesday morning, I am gonna just go with yes.
We walked into the bar in The Flying V formation from The Mighty Ducks. We were ready.
half the nation just spent an hour watching a balloon fly around. we are officially the dumbest fucking country.
meet me or not, i'm out of control
After we had sex he bought me grape soda. I think I'll keep him.
I know it sounds like a good idea, but doing Spanish homework at a bar just because the owners are Mexican and they give us margaritas really wasn't the best decision.
Its a good night to get drunk in my onesie.
We're doing it in the traditional way of discussing why we dislike each other while sharing a bowl. Just like the natives do.
Just got kicked out of two hot tubs. We were naked the second time. So awkward getting out in front of the security guard.
Please send me a thumbs up pic afterwards. No homo. After you've redressed and are heading for the walk of shame out of course
I just want you to know that I think it is hilarious and wonderful that 40s are now your alcohol of choice.
Right now, I'm sitting in my room, drinking beer, eating double stuff Oreos, taking bites straight from a block of cheese, and watching Anchor Man 2 trailers. Finals week at its finest
Left Las Vegas at 2:30 am, woke up at 11 AM at a Barstow gas station with the Valet from Ceaser' palace snoring in the backseat and no memory of how we got there. I felt like Raoul Fucjing Duke right then and there.
Wait, like drink with real Phil. Or Phil, the cat that sometimes lived in your closet in Myrtle Beach?
Randomize
