I had a dream last night that Anthony Bourdain gave me a vibrator.
alcohol. turning childhood friends into awkward hookups since the dawn of civilization.
I woke up locked in the bar...this has redefined partying.
Oh god, so much rum. I think I was in a shotgun wedding with a Bacardi promotion girl.
I was barred out and drunk as fuck locked out at 3am in my Indian costume. It was literally freezing outside. I laid down on the concrete and made a bonfire with dry leaves. Then proceeded to ask.the.bonfire nicely to "please dont go out". Drunk me went strait up survival mode.
Someday. I cant very well invite myself to his dorm room. And I'm 28. The excuses to be drunk and running into him at uconn are rather slim. Although I'm working on it.
So is there some kind of punch card you and I get to use every time we fuck a chick with a cast?
She spilled creme de menthe on her crotch and I told her she looked like a menstruating Vulcan (costume idea!). Obviously, I went home alone.
pain. pain everywhere. this is why throwing yourself at concrete is a bad idea.
Right now Tom has the 2nd floor office bathroom under siege. He shit/clogged one toilet, and he's throwing up in the sink.
God this is like a meg Ryan movie without the restaurant orgasms
When you licked the fourth stranger's cheek the bar tender pretty much ordered us to get you out.
That's it. I'm moving to LA & sitting on his face.
Sex in the backyard? Check.
We all love a big dick, but you’re going to develop a reputation if you keep asking every guy at the bar ‘how big your dick’
That’s all I’m saying
Randomize
