She wanted to fuck you. You threw up on her. Congrats.
This frat boy drinking a forty and wearing a pussy patrol shirt just ran out in front of my car. I should have used less brakes.
I'm not being over dramatic, but I think my heart is going to stop beating.
He added me on Facebook. I'm pretty sure he got my name from the inside of the bra I had lost in the frat house.
At one point you starting double fisting oreos in your mouth confused about how you got out of the car
I figured out why I insisted on leaving my sweater on the ground outside. I smelled it and I'm 97% sure I peed on it last night
He's yummy.
HE'S GAY. AND 40.
Irrelevant.
After you verbally abused the McDonalds employee for not making your fries fast enough, the fact that you woke up on a random lawn does not surprise me.
Fucked Zombie Jesus at a Halloween party. I need Plan B before I give birth to the Antichrist.
Came home plastered at 8am. Roommate had hot glued all the ashtrays and various items to their surfaces. Couldn't handle it. Went back to the bar.
Why do I always end up with closet ICP fans?
Thank fucking Christ I was not wearing pants or eating chocolate cake last night.
She fucked the dishwasher AND the manager.
Well, she isn't a classist. You've got to give her that.
Why is there an inflatable flamingo in the backseat of my car?
He sang the chorus to “Inside of you” by Russel Brand in Forgetting Sarah Marshall as he proceeded to not pull out...
Honestly? I wouldn’t even be mad, that probably took talent
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