Tonight i am praying for god to turn my pussy into apple pie because i cant count the number of times bruce chooses food over sex.
this morning i realized i came home with more condoms then i left. burn.
We made a percocet pizza. And then i made an unfortunate decision.
im not going to any frat parties next semester. for once i want them to think its actually hard to get in my vagina
Hes the only one i know who can talk to a girl for an entire hour abuot the science in starwars and still get laid.
There are topless girls riding the lawn flamingos. I win.
Is it bad that my only regret is fucking on the bathroom floor and not the sink?
Seriously, I'm ready to settle for ugly and unemployed as long as he has decent hygene and likes to go down.
It's that time of the week again where I begin to ponder life's great questions like, "What will my pathetic excuse for a future look like?" and "Why tacos?"
I fucking hate you. Some slutty looking drunk chick backed her ass up across the bar and started grinding on you. You ignored her because you didn't want to share you drink
I care about my drink far more than her feelings
BECAUSE THIS IS AMERICA AND DONUTS AND TITTIES AND ALCOHOL IS WHAT THIS COUNTRY WAS FOUNDED ON
If your find a 12 pack on your doorstep consider it a gentleman's agreement to never speak of that night again
They've already turned me into the Dean of Students once because they felt 'unsafe' because I came home hammered and asked one of them to make me a grilled cheese sandwich. Like, I just ASKED!
YOU IS KIND. YOU IS SMART. YOU IS IMPORTANT. YOU IS CLEANING YOUR OWN VOMIT.
I'm not sure how to explain it, but I feel like our penises have a connection. Like long lost brothers. We're not even gay.
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