the only thing i have to deal with now is the fact that i'm still wearing spandex shorts from last night
Whenever ur ready we need breakfast and a psychic.
if by 'bottleservice' you mean 'bringing beers in my purse' then yes, we are.
should my break up email to my English professor be in MLA format?
Champagne is a vitamin, right?
We were having sex and his high flatmates stood outside his room playing the guitar and singing Somebody to Love by Justin Beiber. Weirdest night ever.
I sexy timed too hard and there is an ass shaped piece of a ping pong table now missing bc of it. How am I allowed to leave the house without a helmet?
Careful, it's a slippery slope to discovering you're bisexual...trust me.
Do you ever wonder what the men who we shamelessly objectify would think if they saw our texts in regard to them?
Wanna play whack-a-mole in my pants?
Your word choices worry me.
Pretty good. They took the stitches out but it still hurts like a bitch. The doctor says I should be off crutches by next week.
Well, that's good. Let's hope drunk you doesn't sabotage you.
I'm wearing sunglasses around my house. Douchebag status. The hangover is real.
My entire news feed is ice bucket challenges. I wish there was a hide from feed button like FarmVille
I climbed on the arm of the futon, flapping my hand fan frantically and hissing imprecations at the smoke detector
I couldn’t resist. He had a camouflage condom. You know I love a man in a uniform
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