I'm going to an arts college, I live next to the frat houses, and my room number is 420. god has plans for me and I couldn't be happier.
It was one time. Now I have to constantly remind her my name is Jessica not Jizzica.
He had the Transformers symbol tattooed to his chest. We had to do it doggy style so I could laugh into my pillow instead of his face.
they told me her nickname is "wizard sleeve"
pick me up NOW
I guess on the plus side everyone really, really enjoyed my nipple clamps
Should I tell them about my ticket for possession or about how I'm shitting blood? Which one will gain the most sympathy?
Plan: drunk dancing. Reality: drunk almost getting in fights with people that could beat me into the ground.
The sad thing is; I'm getting used to walking around feeling like I could hurl at any minute.
Lead with your genitals is the best advice I can give you.
Can I use your baby to go shoplifting?
He wouldn't stop calling me so I sent him a text saying "I'm dead. Dead. Leave me alone." And he replied with "so can I see you then?"
you said you couldn't hang because you had to masturbate and feed your lizard
He carried you out but the best part is you kept saying "can't I keep dancing" as you were gushing blood
He just pulled his sweatpants down and pissed in the middle of our garden
It's totally a relationship. we have sex in other people's beds, watch mad men while high and get drunk on his teammates' beer. don't you dare stomp on my dreams with your societal judgments
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