Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
I woke up under a table, with a huge Mexican sombrero, a box of 120 doughnuts and a bloody nose. It all screams success.
I don't remember much, but my night is dated pre-Jaeger and post-Jaeger. Also, my boss may or may not have tucked me in.
it was either a cry for help or you were gargling vodka. we didnt care either way.
Maybe if more guys knew my pillowtalk occasionally includes me scribbling notebook diagrams of cell signalling pathways, I'd get laid more often
So last night I learned something new. Whenever I drink beer out of a bottle a random guy buys me another one. It was like as soon as the glass hit my lips every guy in a 20ft radius got a hard on.
I would really just like to get laid somewhere that's not on a bathroom floor at this point in my life
Also, I called my liver hardcore in front of vet students last night and then wound up having three of them trying to palpate it. So...not saying that again.
He's the only guy without a tacky accent I've seen in this southern dump in 6 months. Bangage was inevitable.
You're such a Yankee.
You must take up my position now. You must pass out in awkward places as I taught you... Sears a hotel elevator and Burger King bathroom. You potential for greater young grasshopper.
Idk what was more embarassing, seeing her face when I finished, or seeing her roomates faces thru the door..
Woke up to your boyfriend in my bed last night. What's that about?
Come over. We have half a bottle of jumbo champagne left and no boyfriends to slow us down
I got pull-out-my-nuvaring-drunk last night.
Intoxication Level: I'm as graceful and flawless as a fucking dinosaur.
Randomize
