I just want to make him a cookie cake that says "you have no chance with me."
i just used google streetview to figure out where i spent the night last night
Passing out is just my bodies way of protecting my liver.
Apparently we were arguing for captain seats so I shouted "who has your virginity." I got the seat.
I bruised my vagina when I was climbing out of the trash can.
I'm having a really difficult time dealing with the fact that my dog now shares a name with Snooki's crotch-spawn.
Running across campus through Hurricane Sandy while hammered and in a slutty cowgirl costume obviously should be top priority tonight
In other news my cocaine dealer got arrested for heaving some kid out of a fourth story window.
University has ruined us all. I just had to clarify the last time I had sex as "No, not at the party we crawled home from in the snow. It was the one where you puked off the balcony and hit the barbecue."
I want Samuel L. Jackson to stand beside me and narrate my morning shits.
I thought my life was going to shit but then I read about Amanda Bynes and I realize it's not so bad
So his shoes are still here. And there are three contacts in a case. And a shirt on the bed. I've checked my dorm and he's not here. I'm so confused.
So how'd the job interview go?
well turns out the guy interviewing me was a regular at the strip club where i used to work. Talk about awkward
Charles Manson is Getting Married and I stare down at my tits and wonder how I am possibly single.
yeah, last night we handcuffed you and you started crying saying that you weren't a bad person
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