My boyfriend broke up with me out of the blue, shortly after I’d turned 19. His four roommates, around the same time, had started to get annoyed with him about other stuff, and they were all buddies of mine as we’d partied together in residence. So I go out to the strip club one night with a couple girlfriends and run into those guys and they start shit talking my ex, telling me I deserve better. My already drunk self allows them to buy me a ton of tequila shots. Enough that I get up on stage and take off all my clothes, participating in amateur night. This is extremely out of character for me because I am a fairly innocent honors student who doesn’t drink very much. So anyway, I win the $500 cash prize for the night and the ex walks in, to meet his roommates, as I’m up on stage getting my prize.
He then decided to tell me how embarrassing that was for him, as if expecting an apology for me having fun but I refused to give it. Fast forward to a year and a half later where I have a new, great guy in my life, and he still tries to get me to hook up with him every few weeks.
I’m so proud of him!!! He finished school and graduated for his mom, and I’m pretty sure he majored in political science. He got a *degree* from a university, all while having the time of his life in the NHL, traveling around the US and Canada, and going through surgery and injuries. Keep up the hard work, Torey. 💕🏒💪🏼
When I attend classes, I have my cute and adorable yet necessary service dog living with me and by my side 24/7. The morning of one of my final exams, she woke me up with her belly aching and grumbling, so we took the morning easy to get ready, and she seemed better by the time I had to leave for my test; tail wagging, acting like herself, eating normally–all was good.
Half an hour into the final exam, in a dead silent room, she lets rip the loudest, longest fart I’ve ever heard come from a living being in my life. She was so offended by the smell of her own gut fumes she insisted on sitting on the other side of my desk. It was funny the first time; everyone got a good laugh and settled back down pretty fast.
By the sixth time, the entire room smelled like a sulfur pit and it was distracting even to the proctor.
The whole following summer, my poor pup maintained the reputation, not of a valiant, loyal service animal assisting her owner in his daily struggles, but of the ‘floats like a butterfly, smells like a skunk’ gas bag who cleared a gallery classroom of 250 students and both proctors by turning our testing area into a near-war zone.
Funny enough, she earned a lot of respect with the frats that year.