I just spent the last hour spooning with my drug dealer.
His friends call him "Gasm".... Im going for it.
It was like fucking a house. Down the chimney. That deep and empty.
All I know is that if a letter starts with "I'm aware you jerked off in the bathroom last night," I don't want to finish reading it.
It'll be like a meth lab. But with jello.
At this point the smell of shame has become my natural musk
Tried to drunkenly hop a fence with my cast on to get away from the cops but ended up falling over a bench.. how do I explain those bruises to my parents?
I have way too big of a thanksgiving food baby to enjoy any of my old high school booty calls
Sorry, but when you makeout with a guy in a panda suit, you know something has to change.
I'm going to take a nap so I don't feel like a stripper sneezed in my mouth tomorrow morning at work.
You sucked a guys dick who's name was Chad and that wasn't a sign that it was a bad idea?!
Best feedback on my performance so far: "There are things that can't be unseen."
I'm definitely closer to having sex in every building on campus than I am to having a post-graduation career/plan/future. Unless that future is getting fucked in lots of buildings. I got that shit on lock down.
I woke up with leftover chocolate syrup on my nipples. WTF happened last night??
I'm totally picking out my shrooming outfit and blankets right now
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