There are the 2 BIGGEST tools by me-- at our table. I hate them. But they're not ugly and I may make out with them later. And hate myself. Definitely hate myself.
woke up to 35 texts all saying im cheating on her
me and last nights hook up spent two hr. figuring out a reply we went with i love you..
I woke up naked in my own vomit. Not even in my bed. No one is happy.
It was either a cute kinda butch tomgirl or a really fem guy. Either way, I made out with it. Bisexuality, my best friend.
So at what point do I tell her that I like fucking these hot southern girls more than I like my relationship with her?
There is a pink thong attached to a bottle of svedka hanging from my ceiling fan..is this yours?
when im done with her im going to need you to carry me on your shoulders as i poses victoriously for all those who were within earshot
i think maybe i'll just not watch it. i'd rather not think of you as a magical transforming set of dick holes.
He got punched in the face, dropped his laptop down a flight of stairs, and broke his roommate's lava lamp, getting all the toxic lava goo everywhere. This is why we don't let him get drunk. And yet here we are.
I'm just going to lay in a blanket cocoon of self pity for the next few months.
WHY DID I INFORM THE ENTIRE BATHROOM I DONT HAVE AN STD?!?!?!!
We banged in my car doggy style with my head out the window. The sky was marvelous and I saw a shooting star. Its destiny; we're meant to fuck forever.
At what point can I admit that I hate going to house parties?
I don't wanna stand in your shitty kitchen making small talk while I guard the quality booze I brought.
They are like untrained puppies reaking havoc on a newly furnished house. Out of control.
You just compared our vaginas to a newly furnished house...I can dig it.
The bad thing is that I bled through my bandages last night and keep finding blood around the house. It's almost like a scavenger hunt for solber me. I get to find out where drunk me went.
Randomize
