Last night I fell down in the street (I think in someone's vomit), cut my knee up, lost my moms necklace and my license, and had to walk back to the hotel.
Vanilla vodka + chocolate soymilk does NOT equal an epic milkshake.
I don't want the last thing I hear while alive to be Jesse's Girl
Is it bad of me to apply as a night shift counselor at a boys orphanage purely because of how laid that would get me at bars?
Can you please reassure him im not a scary or intimidating person? And that really my entire life is a series of completely ridiculous events that have led me here?
This is going to be one of those "I can only do this high" classes
Okay I can't even be mad, I'm in mid-plot to hook up with Michael Phelp's third cousin.
i repeatedly had to ask him if he was into this because he kept talking about random things while i jerked him off. i got annoyed and in order to annoy him back, i told him i wanted to watch him do it. he also talked about basketball WHILE cumming. NEVER AGAIN.
I like how our relationship transcends the borders of inappropriateness and encompasses all the colors of the inappropriate rainbow.
Just for the record, you referenced Harry Potter while complaining about being torn between the Slytherin (lesbians) and Gryffindor (your mostly straight friends) houses (tables)
going on a mission to find my pants and the guy who stole my beer don't wait up
I'm having leftover pizza for breakfast. I'm clearly not the greatest at this adult thing.
Tinder in Coventry is like browsing a gallery of mugshots from Azkaban
These last few days with George, grandma, and now Carrie all dying have been pushing me further and further into rum's sweet embrace.
i am no longer ashamed when i walk into the dining hall for sunday brunch and i'm greeted with applause for suriving my weekend
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