i just google searched 'can you pop your ovary'
mondays should just be called national damage control day
Not till Sunday. I'm going to sleep in my car. And I know. This place is insane. Blood on the stAirs 5 dollar slices of pizza. A girl on our floor had a stroke.
There's just something about sucking a flaccid dick that makes me feel so calm. Like a baby cow..
Well, she's officially disappointed in me. I have it writing.
I just scrubbed chocolate off the bathtub... You better have had a damn good birthday
All I remember is doing a naked tuck and roll of your bed.
So yeah you need to stop having near death experiences at McDonalds.
Either I'm deep cleaning my apartment out of severe academic procrastination or I'm subconsciously nesting and need to take a pregnancy test.
Do you ever wonder what the men who we shamelessly objectify would think if they saw our texts in regard to them?
I feel bad for her, but I feel like she's one of those resource-raping alien civilizations that visits planets, decimates them and then leaves. Those really aren't the qualities I appreciate in a friend. Ya know?
Looks like I've become the Walter White of my PhD cohort.
I have sent texts to the pizza delivery guy telling him he was beautiful. Oh and you almost got a ticket for pissing in public. And I smell like cheese.
Fuck. I think I can already feel tomorrow's hangover. It's like future me cane back to warn present me about the impending doom but didn't turn the time dial back far enough.
when I finally sobered up enough to get out of bed this morning I went to talk to mom and forgot that I had TITS written in big letters on both my hands. I love drinking games.
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