Let's make love on the newspapers that declare financial doomsday
I'm at a party with that guy you made out with on new years. He remembers your name!
it's like i need an invisible sign across my boobs that says "DOESN'T HAVE DADDY ISSUES" that only old men can see
I woke up this morning peeing out bubbles . I smell like baby wash . What the hell happened .
I just want him to slap me with his dick and call it love
Oh, and thanks to you. I'm now stuck in the living room, held hostage, listening to my roommate's "How I discovered I was bi" story. FUCK YOU.
She didn't talk for 45 minutes. We finally convinced her to open her mouth. There was a flower in there.
Like it was the Mama Mia of shit shows. That bad.
I sold him an eighth while trippin balls wearin my girlfriends tutu and tube top. and i was talking about albinos the entire time
well, he defiantly picked the right guy to buy drugs from
So question, would you consider it morally wrong to grind up Cialas and put it in ones cocktail? Then I get what I want and he doesn't have to be embarrassed and he can win the mental game with himself? I'm only thinking of him...
In my defense, I haven't stolen anyone's clothes yet.
Yeah, that's a plus.
i ended up making out with my new neighbor in a stranger's car that we found unlocked on a driveway somewhere. apparently drunk self never say "no" to adventure.
I don't fucking know. I'm out stimulating the economy. Not locked in a room with a marker board.
Oh at the liquor store again?
I've already come to terms that I'm gonna have to bone a few gross librarians, but hey, it's college
They already have a joint checking account. She's got his balls in her purse! What's next, a shared Facebook account?
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