I feel like I've been hit by a train. I woke up this morning covered in wine, free condoms, and a sign language dictionary.
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
...I woke up with a yo yo in my underwear...
I just saw a girl walking up the hill with a little red wagon full of booze... I want to be in her study group.
Just fucked in his moms tanning bed. While it was on. Weirdest. Tan. Ever.
For sure. We should see if we can get Mike to pay for one, and have a triple kegger... :o==& (that's future me projectile vomiting. i try to be goal oriented)
Dude turns out her best friend is lesbian...there is no wingman for this situation
my mom said i couldn't bring cigarettes cause it was a family trip, which was really irresponsible of her because now i have to walk around the beach drunk trying to find someone with cigarettes.
we decided it was best to cut you off after we caught you trying to "baptize" my cat in the jungle juice
Two portable blenders. We are going to be popular and dangerous.
I've taken to hiding pictures of us around his room so that he'll forever feel guilty for dumping me on Valentine's Day... And to potentially cock block any hook ups.
She looks like a beluga.
I want to splash her with water and when she screams say "I didn't want you to die. You looked parched"
Wet should excavate the hamsters out of the front yard n give them a proper burial.
The awkward moment your booty call shows up to the Mexican restaurant and realizes you just picked burritos over pussy
Is it ironic that our divorce court is a block from where we had our reception? Or is it just sad? Alanis has confused my understanding of irony.
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