There's a show on bravo about fat people dancing. FAT PEOPLE. DANCING.
This is god's gift to the unemployed.
Buying beer for freshmen. No matter what they ask for, I'm getting them Colt 45.
I need a secretary to manage my drinking schedule.
I just saw someone EAT a flashcard out of frustration. Finals suck.
I cant do that to my vagina yet. its my prize posession.
How do I enter a double puke and rally into my calorie counter?
we're decorating our christmas cookies with birth control. so pretty.
Oh, and apparently I was butt ass naked and walked into the room where anna was skyping her dude in afghanistan and said "This is happening."
I would say I miss her friendship, then I remember that she gave 4 guys the clap. I'm good.
I'm beginning to think that women just have dogs at home as an excuse to leave ASAP after hooking up, without sounding like a typical guy.
My roommates call me "Queen of the Skanks" I guess that means I've had a successful first month of college.
Let's be real. I'm the Usain Bolt of running away after hookups. Fastest (wo)man alive.
This conversation went from me banging other women's husbands to learning about baked goods. If that isn't personal growth I don't know what is.
New strategy for telling if someone is drunk: will they attempt to drink a candle if you put a straw in it?
i'm trying not to stalk him on facebook
i gave in
Randomize
