i've counted 4 condom wrappers but only 3 condoms. not again.
Killed two birds with one stone: found my wallet and unclogged the toilet.
Everything about him screamed your future.
i crunched every chip from the dorito bag and poured it in the vase. never again will i have to deal with cool ranch fingers.
Level of drunkenness: just now when I sat down on the toilet, I had to double check to make sure I wasn't sitting on somebody's lap.
It's not a good hook up if during you're thinking "how will this damage me psychologically"
4:37 am. You're wearing underwear and carpet skates. Borderline crying. You want to punch Morgan. Have not stopped singing Give Your Heart a Break.
He almost got to me tonight but then I was like fuck it I'm going to dance with a teli-tubby on the bar so fuck you
OUR DIABOLICAL SLUT PLAN HATH COMMENCED!
And when I feel bad about myself I go to the library and suck my pen over an open book, counting the seconds until a guy sits across from me and tries to get my attention
It's accurate though. I am legitimately passionate about pickles. I crave pickles the same way I crave sex. It is a deep rooted animalistic need
If someone told me one person in the department was secretly a death eater, I would suspect her, no contest.
I can't believe you cupped pat's balls to prove your fake relationship
Oh no...did you put star fish over your nipples again?
I've never been so excited to be bleeding from my vagina.
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