My face smells like last night's lay. I need a whore bath. Or a corndog.
Pete just told the whole party I'm a squirter
Check if I'm alive tomorrow. If not, tell my parents I died happy and that there's a gay cheerleader in the spare bedroom
You told them to let you give him stitches claiming you were a certified nurse because you've taken plant biology classes
He did plead exhaustion. And I made him push through it. I am like the motherfucking badass football coach of sex.
I want him to come over and snuggle with me but put a bag over his head. Is that rude?
It's not rude if you use a pillowcase that's softer.
Nothing like an old fashioned, wine fueled, anxiety-cry in the shower to start off finals week.
It's 6 a.m. ... what the hell.
Think I can pull off edward 40 hands before class?
You might end up in the wrong class.
I'm a COM major, they're all the wrong class.
I have a calendar reminder for world domination today, you wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?
Life Lesson #1 of 2013: double-fisting shower beers and shaving my bikini line should be reserved for two different showers.
I just had to take my laptop away from him because he was on Amazon and had 20 Seahawks garden gnomes in his cart.
So because I'm off tomorrow that means your dick could be in my mouth majority of that time
The fact that you screamed, "Alf is my spirit animal!" is proof enough that we're too old for peyote.
If I could steal your goatee and hide it under my bed to keep your from wearing it, I would.
Because of you I'm damaged goods. I'm a fucking soup can and you dropped me.
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