why didn't you poke me back
You keep asking me questions like I have this magical thing called a memory
I was so high last night. I wrote a poem about my salt shaker
so the time management class we had to take for work seems to be working. I just beat off instead of waiting for gf to get home bc it fit my schedule better.
They peed on our pledges last night... i dont know if i should put an lol at the end of that or not
she had a concussion and she still scored nine points higher than me on the midterm
sudden memory flashback: you and i having sex on the bed, erin sitting naked in your desk chair drinking whiskey straight from the bottle while harassing you for your computer password to play some "mood music." high five. go us.
True. I'd rather snort cocaine off a homeless guy then work on the weekend...Actually that may not be that bad.
The Vegas crew is in two groups, Team Vodka and Team Fireball. There is no winner in this.
You know it's time to cut back when your unemployed drug dealer roommate tells you that you party too hard.
If you have a glass table... Put it up. I don't wanna hurt myself again, I just got my stitches out...
Besides the flaccid incident, it was decent. Average sized. So this is my life now. Loneliness and lackluster sex.
All I've done today is make sangria and wonder what the hell I'm doing with my life.
It began the way the best stories do—with some naïve jackasses in a place they had no business being at.
Drunk sex on a hardwood floor is never ever a good idea. Lesson learned.
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