So guy #2, the dancer, is programmed into my phone under the name H.uy. His number- 11 digits. I should have stopped drinking.
Every night before bed, when I used to say prayers, now I just think to myself 'freshman sluts. Soon'
I think I'd rather ejaculate tabasco. You'd have to scrape out guacamole.
They were like stripper heels, except business stripper heels, the kind strippers would wear to court.
We tried to make a sex tape, but we were hammered and she forgot to take the cap off the camera. Somebody starts snoring 10 minutes in.
Congratulations, you fucked a nickle into me.
I'm unshowered, and since I've seen this episode of say yes to the dress, I've decided to go to the store and get a frozen pizza at 10:20 am. I'm crushing life.
Also, upon examining the photos, I have concluded that you were the sloppiest drunk girl of the night. And that's saying something considering Hurricane Jessica was in town.
Pack light, we're going straight to bar from the train. No place to put our shit.
Dude all I'm bringing is my dick and a phone charger.
It is no longer St. Patrick's Day. I should NOT still have green boobs!
MY INSIDES ARE BASICALLY BEING WRUNG BY A CHAINSAW IM NEVER TAKING PLAN B AGAIN
My vagina still hurts from yesterday. That's the last time I think riding a mop bucket is a good idea. Don't let me do that again
It's official. I have spent more money on weed than on textbooks this semester.
As long as it's before midnight it's cool. But it would be understandable to ring in my new year shitting myself just before I go to Iraq.
Dude my roommate just peed out the window
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