I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
genius idea. im gonna paint my penis green like the serpent of sex
heading to class now, facing the weekend consquences
if theres anything i pride myself on, its my ability to look homeless.
Someone is gonna learn how to start an IV in the morning
I feel like I need to get rid of the black eyeliner, glitter, and tequila breath before I to that world poverty conference..
Just for future reference: milk is NOT a good mixer no matter how drunk you are.
I think making out with someone could be the cure to all my problems. That or more cowbell.
he busted into the room with single cheese slices and started yelling "THROW SOME CHEESE ON THAT BITCH"
My gynecologist got a full view of the obviously bite marked shaped bruises on my thighs. I just kept talking about work and hoped she wouldn't judge me.
I knew it was a bad night when the only thing I could remember was you force feeding me tortilla chips as I hugged the tire of my car and begged to have my stomach pumped.
My walk of shame was four miles long and I had to stop for a water break. I am the picture of class.
I don't understand why you're so excited, it's my vagina not yours.
If not, I can murder my liver twice...it's like a cat, it has 9 lives
there is a naked boy in my bed & you just need to kick him out because i do NOT want to see him when i'm sober.
Randomize
