I think i sorta joined a cult last night
If you weren't supposed to have sex with your ex then they wouldn't rhyme.
"Guy Time" translaed into 10 shots apiece and me waking up covered in my own blood.
Are my feet made of real feet?
My autobiography is now tentatively titled "I'm Fucking the DJ, and Other Ways to Party for Cheap"
It's "your husband had his mouth on my vagina" awkward.
Just put an ad on Craigslist for a fake groom... I'm sure only non creepy sane people will respond to it
but im not going to tell the owner of the penis of my dreams how to wear his hair.
There is not enough soap in the world to make me feel clean after last night. Im gonna need jesus for this one
walk of shame across osu's campus on game day. i can see all the spots i threw up last night. its like my personal yellow brick road.
This can only be settled by a dance off.
Does anyone remember last night? Because I still don't know why I now own a goldfish and a ceiling fan made of pizza?
I just bought condoms and a potted plant, making for a top ten super weird and awkward purchase.
He came into my room last night and started peeing underneath my desk, I told him the bathroom was the next door over.
In order to get rid of my bladder infections I must give up caffeine, nicotine and tight pants. It's like my pussy is an angry dictator or something
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