Last night was an abortion. I might need a publicist.
I don't know what's more pathetic, the fact that you dated him or the fact that it took a Taylor Swift song for you to break up with him.
today was the first day of rush. talking to girls all day makes me sick of having a uterus.
you're the only person I know who would bring a water bottle of screwdriver to a wedding, and toast with it during the speech
Wheres my essay?
You mean the vodka drenched shreds of paper taped all over the walls of the hallway?
Halfway through lecture, some kid in the front row threw up IN his hands. Professor held the door for him to carry it out.
We need to get you laid. Or i fear you might explode like a firework of sexual innuendos and unfulfilled erotic fantasies.
You called me a pussy and continued to eat an entire jar of peanut butter with only your hand.
is leaving the club to fk in his friends van subtle?
I'm surprised I don't have a permanent face imprint between my boobs.
Unless your apology includes a 20 something with loose morals and a daddy complex, I'm am not interested
this is a save-me-from-tijuana-tequila-and-hoookers booty call. if i don't hear from you by 8pm i'm grabbing my passport
if i'm not back tomorrow call the embassy
I made out with the uber driver for free weed, I thought he deserved it
Is it awkward to pay for your boob job with scholarship money? Either way, it's happening.
He ate me out in a limo while we were driving home. I love bars being open again!
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