I tried to tell him it was only 2:00, but he said since it was 5:00 in New York, it was perfectly acceptable. He then put on a Blues Brothers hat and a pair of wayfarers and left. I expect him home in a few hours with a police escort.
His shirt was in the kitchen sink this morning, I'm pretty sure my roommates know.
He moved away. I mourned his dick all of Sunday. I feel a little better now.
She passed out on top of the bar. Still did body shots off her.
I just opened a bottle of wine with a shoe and a tube of mascara. Get on my level
I'm pretty sure there was a language barrier but he knew what "harder" meant.
You just kept yelling, "THAT'S THE POWER OF PINESOL, BABY!"
Found a single cinnamon toast crunch between my butt cheeks. We did work last night
come onnn, where's your sense of adventure?!
I left it in that guy's dorm room.
Why would I send you a picture of it when I could just steal the gnome and put it in your bed with you? Admit it, he looks just like gnomeo!
10/10 would definitely still fuck you dressed as squirrel
Not to play devil's advocate, but, considering how our species has evolved so far... I'm kinda rooting for the sun on the whole heat death thing.
He started me on Celexa. I think I feel like Bjork. Is that normal?
Like... my feet feel like little octopuses, and they want to swim to the next room.
Also either i just launched into space as a rocket or my legs just orgasmed, but i am high as a soul train
I promise your sink was clogged before I threw up in it.
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