to me, nights with brittany mean pink champagne, closet criticizing, "drunken publicness", water balloon mutiny, backfired plans, and laughing so hard i can't breathe. oh, and having guys in the backseat of a car flirt with you at traffic lights via cardboard signs with messages such as you're cute, call me, & settle down. then, when you least expect it, they throw an ice cream cone {filled with vanilla} at your freaking windshield where it splatters all over the damn place! clearrrly becoming one of the most random acts of rowdiness experienced in one's lifetime.
ohhh, the chaos.
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