i realized that the internet ruins the joy of a father passing down playboys to his son
I just found a video on my phone from last night of you yelling, "you can't fuck me!" at least 20 times
im not even sure if i fucked her just woke up in her closet.
she cried into her fur with two handfuls of money- she was the physical manifestation of white girl problems
My grandmother cheats at beer pong and has been rubbing her tainted victory in my face for an hour now.
I sold weed for gas money to get home. I thought that's what college was for.
Glow parties are what I live for
Your priorities in life astound me
I'll pay you to write the paper but not for sex. You should only get paid for something you work hard at.
It's Saturday night and I'm sitting on my couch by myself, watching Glee, and drinking gin and tonics. If you listen very closely, you can hear the wails of my mother giving up hope that I will ever give her a son-in-law.
I feel like I'm laying on a pillow cloud. With little baby angel fingers between me and the cloud lifting me up. Singing hymns in my ear.
A part of me realizes this is a bad time to text. But I override it with my awesomeness
btw my frat has a search out for you. the "girl who threw up in the middle of the party" but it was on some fat girls. so thank you.
she's fucked both of my roommates but not me. i feel like I'm not part of the group anymore
The kitchen also doubles as a screaming room after midnight as long as you have something to muffle the sound
The sex was so good we high-fived after.
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