I think i sorta joined a cult last night
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.
Never again will we have slut saturday. Never.
I don't know what I should tell you tell you. I don't want to encourage you to dye my dog.
He broke into my apartment to check his Facebook again, the beer is all gone, and there's a new high score on pac man.
Also, I am ligit concerned that I might compulsively start collecting vibrators like Pokemon.
Just took an adderall with a shot of tequila while doing my makeup in the parking lot at work before I go in. I'm also late. They're so lucky to have me.
He said the last thing he remembered thinking was: 'Why is this vagina spinning?' Too drunk sex is no ones friend.
Stand up sex. Extremely, extremely difficult. I now know how pointe dancers feel.
my last clear memory of the night was being offered a shot but having so much alcohol in my hands that someone literally had to pour it in my mouth for me. after that it pretty much skips to waking up face down and shirtless on my floor.
Still trying to figure out where I was when someone broke the lawn chair and put it in the bathroom.
I did cocaine off my boobs last night. Then I wrote two essays and went on a run. Go me
I'll get tired halfway through and end up passed out at a taco shack honestly
Literally, and I mean LITERALLY as in "not to be confused with a casual hyperbole", LITERALLY the day we broke up she slept with 3 different guys that night.
1) It's nice to see that the whole "English Major" thing is upping the quality of your rants 2) Have you considered that your dick was the cork holding her sluttiness in?
You know it's a good May 2-4 when it involves 14 straight hours of vodka slush and garlic bread
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