I'm going to an arts college, I live next to the frat houses, and my room number is 420. god has plans for me and I couldn't be happier.
I just looked at my iPhone gps history... "the gas station", "the park with a big scary fence", "the trampoline", and, my favorite, "where we were when we were about to do lines off a bible".
We couldn't even have sex we were both laughing so hard. I don't know how I feel about the quality of that weed.
I have started doing my homework in bars. It just feels right.
The drugs are starting to wear off. Suddenly aware there's a girl with bald patches and 2 guys that don't have a full set of teeth between them.
No, my body just knows its the weekend and wants to rage. Very different from alcoholism
We were pulling the glow sticks off of him and he just kept yelling, "my bones! You're taking my bones!" and asking me if I was on the crew team
It's gotten so bad I typed my will out on my phone in case it's over.
Was I at least a good cuddler? Like at least honorable mention?
I'm a bit broke right now... Would it be OK if I pay you in champagne and Xanax?
Yeeeaahhh, I'm in no rush to dismiss a level 6 booty-call that pays my bar tabs and understands my Harry Potter obsession.
Stay calm. It's a titty bar. A ring of cocaine will protect you.
It was the needle in the haystack of teary, unpleasant handjobs.
I'm surronded by jorts. You're probably too drunk to care. I'm gonna cry now. Love you.
See I am maturing. I just got in from my DRIVE of shame......
Randomize
