I just got a ticket for shitting on a sand dune.
ugh, i have officially sinned in all of my cute clothes. i can't even wear any of them without feeling regret.
Every now and then I'll talk to a creeper for an extended amount of time. Randy, for instance, funded our entire night of horrible decisions.
dinner with the girl I motorboated last semester wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be
she just threw a smoke bomb in an elevator and ran down 9 flights of stairs to see it at the bottom.
You used the best tools you had at your disposal.
Slutty, slutty tools.
Oh, and also, a couple of straight girls showed up. But they ran away.
before the moonshine you were already braiding the bouncers beard -_-
I'm really stoned in my underwear. I probably won't make it to the bar.
She complimented my boobs and then told me I smelled like teddy bears before falling asleep on the floor.
He follows more cats on Instagram then he does girls.. That's how you know your boyfriend is whipped.
I don't know which I need first...a shower or a confessional.
I feel like there should be a 'roommate information section' of the paperwork when there's a chance you'll be given pain killers.
If muffins & morning blowjobs don't make him happy, frankly, I don't think anything will.
One minute we're singing Wagon Wheel, and the next you're belly dancing in a trash bag on the beer pong table
Randomize
