We found an eightball on the ground last night. I mean, really, who does that?
It's a pity Stephen Hawking can't do sarcasm.
The girl sitting next to me in class is writing her to-do list under the title 11/31.
The working title of my paper? "Tailgating: A Big Clusterfuck of Kids Who Dont Actually Give a Shit about Football"
Please tell me the foreign boys in the kitchen this morning were yours.
There was a reason God said "Let there be titties" on the Fifth Day.
The nausea has returned and I can't handle such things to exit my body so violently
Come now. I'm bloody but I'll give you the best fuck of your life.
I offered to give him "road head" while he played GTA 5. I think he will be more optimistic about date night in the future.
Well. At least he's a gentleman. A gentleman satanist.
Got kicked out of the club and woke up at a frat house. Good night? Couldn't tell you. I got a date out of it I'm glad someone thinks my drinking problem is cute.
I don't think I can get drunk, high or horny enough to even consider that
It was like if the scent of sour milk and burning tires had a baby in taste form.
I flashed my boobs, shit my pants, and kissed the wrong twin. I'm on a roll you don't want in on.
I can't be a daydrinker without you. It just doesn't work.
I love you too.
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