My roommate and I had a nyquil contest. The nyquil won.
I really like him. That's why I'm having sex with someone else, so he doesnt think i'm a slut.
Ramen noodles and uncensored jerry springer episodes, what a nice life i have.
Every time I type "should" my phone autocorrects to "shouldn't". even my phone knows my ideas are terrible.
His room was full of guns. It was like having sex with Clint Eastwood.
I left him a voicemail saying i went through with the abortion and he texts me back one thing... the bbm "phew" face. really?
All I can remember is being told by a guy named Kyle to stay in the corner until the cops left. Then waking up on a porch outlined in beer cans 8 blocks from my house. Pregaming for college.
He kept calling my vagina a magic clam, and it was speaking to him, telling him to feed it his penis. I played along.
He walked into the pizza shop... Pulled the fire alarm.. And proceeded to dance to it...
I don't understand why she gets annoyed by my drunk texts. It means she's who I'm thinking about even when my brain isn't functioning properly.
Bud... Did you mean to tweet a picture of your dick? If not just letting you know.
I asked to see his balls for medical purposes.
He took my necklace off while we were 69ing. His tongue never stopped moving either. Take that, guys who can't figure out how bras work.
i spent most of last night convincing myself that dan akroyd wasn't actually standing in my bathroom holding a dead chicken
All I did today was eat pizza and use my vibrator.
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