I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
the reason why you were crawling on your hands and knees from room to room last night was because you thought the ceiling fans were chasing you...
that makes sense.
I also have a full keg. I'm thinking about crashing a party, they can't get mad if I bring a keg of beer.
The couch is in the bathroom. I don't understand how that is even possible. I couldnt even fit that shelf thingy through the door. Come help. I am about to pee my pants.
I WAS a history major. I also WAS a functioning human being. Fuck gin.
The effect you have on my penis from a different state is impressive
I sent dad a photo of my graduation certificate from drug therapy class. It was his birthday so it seemed appropriate.
He made a toga out of my hot pink bed sheets and cracked an egg on his head. Then he proceeded to alphabetize our DVD collection, which was impressive because I'm 99% sure he couldn't have done that sober.
...I watched him run on the beach yesterday and I think I started ovulating
I lost a bet last night, now I have to name the baby Fetty Wap, regardless of gender. Riley is going to kill me.
Took an adderall for the first time in a few weeks. Spent 45 minutes peeling an orange TO PERFECTION.
It's scary that my vibrator is a dangerous weapon. I want a new one.
Cat needed to get out last night. Walking to the door was too much effort so I encouraged (pushed) him to leave via window.
Isn't your room on the second floor?
He took a shit in my shoe. A part of me is livid and a part of me is impressed because that’s some real evil genius.
We hotboxed his bathroom. going to be a good night
Hotbox went wrong - smoke sets off fire alarm. Firefighters coming
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