I guess she hates pencil-dick losers." Adam clapped Ryan Ferguson on the back, too plastered to notice he'd spilled half a Corona on his friend's shirt. Or how pissed the other man was that Alice Ryan; a statuesque blonde with an exquisite set of tits, and an ass to die for, had rejected his advances. Slut. To host a Frat party required no excuse, however, this one had been ostensibly to commiserate the lacrosse team losing its final game of the season and missing out on the Divisional playoffs. A team Ryan could not make as a starter. Although still lettered, that obviously hadn't been enough for that pretentious whore. The last time he'd seen her, she'd had her tongue stuck down the team captain's throat before they'd headed out the door. …show more content…
He turned for the stairs, however, before he reached the landing, he stopped dead, staring through an open door into the den. "Who's that?" Behind him, Adam had caught up and peered over his shoulder at the figure on the could inside. "Lily." "Who?" "Lily, you know, Paige's roommate. The nerdy bitch. Never fucking parties." "Well, what the hell is she doing there? She drunk?" Josh, tilted his head and looked at his friend, then the girls behind him, who'd gone silent. A smile formed on his lips as he held a finger up to his mouth, motioning them to stay silent. "Let's find out." A second later, he'd tip-toed into the room and stood over the figure on the couch. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty." He stared down at her, then tapped his hand against her face. "You awake bitch?" That got a giggle from the trio at the door, and Josh shot them a wink. "I asked you a fucking question?" He tapped her face again. After getting no response and assuming she was either drunk or stoned and in no state to protest, Josh hooked his fingers into her top and hoisted it up her torso to expose her bra. "Well, if you ain't gonna talk, you can at least show us
Moreso, Maggie does not think alcohol consumption is attractive. “I always thought drinkin' men lost their looks, but I was plainly mistaken. […] You're the only drinkin' man I know that it never seems t' put fat on. […] Well, sooner or later it's bound to soften you up.”
The first half of my book “The Cellar” written by Natasha Preston, was so good that I could not put the book down. The girl, at that point, had no memories which include her name and anything before she woke up on a dirty, bloody cabin floor. She looked down at her throbbing hand and found that two of her fingernails were missing.
“What up Randy,” they all said. Randy was confused at first and stood there with a shocked expression on his face. It took him a couple minutes, but then he remembered
Prepared for a negative response, and having to further work his charm, or leave it until the girl had had a few drinks of her own, Josh Kincaid was briefly taken aback by her flirtatious reply, but hopefully managed to conceal his surprise. Motioning to the bartender, he ordered a beer, and a vodka and lime, for Caroline, then concentrated his attention on her.
College writing professors teach writing in a variety of ways around the United States and the world. The reason for this is that some professors are trying to teach their students a different aspect of writing an essay or a paper. Two views on this particular subject that I found interesting were Maxine Hairston’s essay "Diversity, Ideology, and Teaching Writing" and also Thomas Bray’s newspaper article "Memorial Day and Multiculturalism". These essays are two totally different views on how diversity and multiculturalism is to be applied in America or taught in the college writing classroom.
There were a lot of decorations with briefcase hanging near the doors, empty manila folders on the walls, the works the theme was Hoes and CEOs. The party looked amazing just from the front door. We were all greeted with hugs and alcoholic drinks as soon as we stepped in. the boys didn’t care if you were underage, if you were legally an adult, they were completely fine with it. as the night went on, the sisters drank more and more and more. The shots were endless; I could feel the vibrations from the loud music nonstop. Alex, Sofia’s boyfriend and president of the sorority, pulled me aside to hang out with his friends in the living room, along with his long time best friend Max. there were 5 or 6 of us circling the coffee table, taking shots of tequila, vodka, and anything else from an unknown
Tracy got off the sofa and rush towards the restroom to puke. Blarghhh "Why do I feel so Blarghhhhh sick all of a sudden. I cant be pregnant?" She calmly reason with herself.
Lily then barged in and said, “We were racing down the stairs and Billy fell.”
...er alcoholic mother. Jess takes on the role of scapegoat when Alice deflects her “sick” behavior and yells at Jess to do her homework repeatedly while Alice stumbles around the house drunk.
she always used to wish for a way to escape her life. She saw memories
The only way to truly do justice to this story is to tell it as Charlie would, so here it goes. Dear friend, or perhaps just readers, I know nothing about you, not you age, race, gender, or favorite color. This however goes both ways, all you really know about me is what you are reading right now. It is important to note at this point in the narrative that much of the impacts the book The Perks of Being a Wallflower had on me are not obvious. Very few of my peers or can tell the immense impact this story had on me. Even fewer can see how I have changed as a result.
The Cabin On the thirteenth of October, 1949, it was a cold and wet day plagued with a brisk wind that swept the ice cold wind aggressively across the grey sky. The Ward family had been staying at a Cabin that they had owned for five years and is located right outside of Rosewood Pennsylvania. Zayah Ward, who was the only child, was a little stubborn, but loved the great outdoors and participate in activities. As for Zayah’s parents, Jennah and David, they loved the outdoors just as much as their ambitious little daughter did, but more than the outdoors, they loved their daughter. They cherished every minute with her and would do anything to make her happy.
He tells her that "constantly talking isn't necessarily communicating," and that her drinking is "pathetic" and "irresponsible," these don’t make her too happy.
Tara looked at the alarm clock, but the red digital numbers were a blur. “It’s still nighttime. Go back to bed, baby.”
Imagine it is one’s first day in high school. Standing in front befalls the entrance way to your new future, thinking of what lies ahead from the perspective of a middle school grad. One would perhaps have mixed emotions as to what to expect. Observing the new students around the corridors, it transpires as if they are dragging their feet to progress inside, for the reason that they are fresh from the blissful summer days; they are in exchange, yet again, to the reality of school homework, projects, reports and tests. Some have queries and doubts in their minds; what does one expect of themselves getting into a high school life such as this? “What remains in store for me, I wonder…” “This school year is going to be subsequently much tougher