similar to the time we made up the game of screaming at the top of our lungs any time a guy any of us slept with walked into the party. that went over SO well.
the vast amounts of cleavage i'm sporting to my final says "no, I didn't study but don't worry I've got something lined up for when I don't graduate".
Every perfect package comes with a warning label.
I just banged that chick from the bar by speaking french. all i had to do was recite my grocery list
I specifically found a fat girl to lift me up on her shoulders.\n\nIt was glorious.
How can I not totally like a guy that told me my boobs were too big for me to be taught how to play golf?
I asked if he wanted to sext and he just started sending me pictures of his beard.
I don't understand or I understand perfect - if were not talking about fried chicken I'm not sure what's happening.
Also the fuck cup must be buried with me
You slid down a wall, tried to pull your cast off and yelled that casts were too conformist.
I told him about the time I blacked out and shit myself and he still wanted to have sex with me that night. Feeling pretty optimistic about where this fling is going.
Of course the sales lady was judging you, you bought a pregnancy test, ky jelly, diet pills and a 6 pack of red bull. Even i'm judging you.
You tried to chase every shot with a blueberry.
I'm really stressed out right now.
I think you're confusing "stressed" and "sober".
The dogs decided to play a new game called "Who Can Scream the Loudest?"
I won.
Randomize
