Your vagina is a self cleaning oven.
alone in the kitchen at 4 am eating a hotdog.
Riding home in a carseat. Worst. Night. Ever.
There is something about drinking on a golf course and getting with younger women that just really makes me feel at home.
The guy in the library beside me just whipped out an entire loaf of bread, a knife and a container of peanut butter and is proceeding to make multiple sandwiches.
I'm going to skip that pointless convo with Mark, stick with the "we're talking" status, and bone barely legal, borderline gay, preppy guys on the DL.
Never underestimate the healing power of vomiting and a bath.
i have my own cum on my nose right now. don't talk to me about "embarrassed".
He made fire alarm noises before throwing up all over the street.
in hindsight, the duct tape banana hammock was a bad idea.
YOU CAN'T BASE A RELATIONSHIP OFF A PENIS
I LIKE HIS TONGUE TOO.
When one of my seniors asked "Rough night?" I realized my poor decisions involving Tuesday night drinking did not go unnoticed.
I wish university was like frosh week all the time and then they just give you a degree for surviving
Jesus fuck that was emotional whiplash
You’d probably be happy to know that I think I’ve mastered the skill of knowing “my type” and then steering clear
FINALLY. I THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD NEVER COME!
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