sitting in my room eating a boneless rib tv dinner, and listening to taylor swift's love story, and i sharted. had to finish the ribs and hear the end of the song before i went to the bathroom to wipe.
Tonight was like the Noah's Ark of alcohol. I had to have two of everything.
She punched my vomit. In midair. Back into my mouth.
I'm home and safer than post-menopausal sex; you're welcome for the image. And yes, I did just use a semi-colon hammered.
Look, we all have our slutty phases. Mine is just forever.
I don't think I'd trust a marching band with trampolines to not cause serious damage to themselves/ property.
its weird that my cat bites every fat chick i bring home. i repeat every fat chick, qhT KINDA FRIEND ARE YOU
I just want a whole pitcher of margarita and a headdress from party city and sit around and look like a fucking indian princess.
You are COMPLAINING that the sex was too good. You're not getting any sympathy from me
I wanna go back to school and change my major to psych just to make a case study out of her
Using my graduation announcement box as a table to roll a blunt on. I've official stopped giving a shit about senior year
It's not too terrible. You just got a little naked and broke your arm.
You brought a jar of mayonnaise to bed. It doesn't get any worse than that.
This time last year I was crying in a church parking lot without shoes or a bra, so the years can only go up from here
A guy I hooked up with YEARS ago just endorsed me on LinkedIn for "customer service".
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