3:40 am: you never wrote back on my facebook wall
the girl I was having sex with just mumbled victory for msu during sex. i love basketball season
So apparently I ran down the hall to another party and started handing out uncooked spaghetti to strangers. You'd be surprised how many drunk people will eat raw noodles.
My vagina just recognized that song.
Screw it. I'll show up in a white dress with a sign that says " I fucked the groom and it wasn't that great."
Going to the hospital for stitches on my balls. Mom walked in on me manscaping with an electric razor. Tell NOBODY.
Get in the lobby, you have to sign my boxers
You do realize that we got a stripper to do the YMCA for us on the main stage... Right?
We can just keep having sex until one of us finds someone we actually like
"Functional." Your standards for how you feel after drinking are so high.
When your night starts by chugging margarita and drinking vodka out of tupperware, I feel it's best to stay realistic.
It's like your nipple is comforting my nipple.
He snapchated me a photo of his penis with the caption "it needs a home".
There's a fine line between kinky and serial killer
wasn't that the evening we made out with the girls from the dental school, drank 3000 beers, almost had to beat up a guy at the strip club and James nailed some hot piece of tail and took her OSU windbreaker, which my dad went on to wear multiple times after finding it in the garage.
Yes. To all of that. Yes.
Just woke up next to a hungry lesbian and a half eaten croissant on my stomach. Can you come get me?
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