I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
I told her I was team Edward. I haven't gotten laid that easy since I told your sister that I had cancer
The bar I'm at just passed out smores to everyone. I don't know what it has to do with cinco de mayo but I'm down.
You planned my entire going away party sitting in the bath tub cradling a bottle of Cuervo. You promised me fire jugglers. And a pinata.
She passed out on the kitchen table with two mickeys forties duct taped to her hands. Clearly she is going to fit perfectly in your house this semester
so the photographer said "let's get a picture of the cousins" so we posed together, and then he said " lets get a picture of the couples" So we posed together.
So, since you're now a four night stand, I feel comfortable asking: Did I leave my sunglasses at your house? Or my underwear?
Looking forward to meeting the person naked and passed out at my kitchen table.
If they could bottle a hangover it would taste exactly like lemon lime Gatorade and failed hopes and dreams
Nothing like a little " am I gonna shit myself " to spice up the work day
I deserve to have sex with a hot freshman ok
I literally wonder, frequently, "Will anyone ever fuck me until i go cross eyed for 2 hours again?''
Ate 3 ghost peppers and chased them with Everclear last night. Currently on the toilet cursing the universe and everyone in it.
I have hit the ultimate fuck buddy status. We pulled over in a construction zone to have a quickie.
Well, for starters, you were growling and slurping beer from a puddle on the carpet. Let's all hope that was beer...
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