if you wake up with plaid pants on your floor in the morning, you made a bad decision.
I'm going to an arts college, I live next to the frat houses, and my room number is 420. god has plans for me and I couldn't be happier.
part of it is the fact that im problem drinking, and the other part is my OCD wont let me leave the bottle half-empty.
I'm proud of our boobs and what they could potentially achieve in life.
You were Q-tipping mashed potatoes out of your ear.
We had to leave. Dave knocked a dude out for saying yolo.
We could make it cute. Like "oh those two cute lesbians who are about five foot two who sell the cocaine down the street. You know the ones? With the Yorkies?"
I dunno. We kind of want to have a hippie communing with nature type break. But because we're such alcoholics I feel like we'll just be wasted the whole time in addition to hugging trees and shit
Bored at work. googling vodka waffles.
And it was in that moment when I realized that these high schoolers looked up to me and that I should set a good example. So I stole a casserole and left.
I can't go to class, I have all this weed to sell
he has a party story that rivals our "PTSD- soldier-with-a-knife" party story. I'm pretty sure this is part of some prophecy.
but if we have a President Trump come Tuesday, I might throw myself off the Walt Whitman Bridge so Thursday might not work for me after all.
Sorry I’m late. Got horny watching the traffic report and had to rub one out
I don’t know how to sext. What do you say? What do you don’t say?
Just start quoting WAP lyrics.
Randomize
