I fell off the front porch last night. Actually.. I dove. I dove off the front porch.
You know, I really only think drinking is a problem if you're not good at it.
Thanks for making me watch you dance provacatively by yourself in the bathroom so you could see if you looked fat.
So he thinks I sent him a picture of my boob last night, but it was really just a close up of my arm.
There's a litter of kittens in my bathtub and beer cans everywhere. I want my apartment key back.
He'd bedazzaled his ass. Im not even that gay...
Yes, yes she is. This will teach her not to pull her vibrator out and harass people with it at parties.
He is now tagging himself in my pics from last year where he is barely visable in the corner. i feel like he's marking his territory.
there is nothing more depressing than your birth control alarm going off while you're masturbating, and realizing you've been taking pointless precautions for over a month now.
She kicked in my bedroom door in only high-heals with a bottle of wine, announcing it was "cock-o-clock"
Thanks for the cold. I shartted and sat through a whole soccer game. James made 3 scores.
I just replaced the poop spray with an air horn... Now we wait!
But he was still all, "YOU TEXTED TONY WHILE YOU WERE GETTING FUCKED?!" Like THAT was the weird part.
I don't remember much, but I remember he called me the dick whisperer, so it must not have been all bad.
My diet fell off the wagon when I began texting the pizza delivery guy my location on frat row.
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