By the grace of god and the ingenuity of Alexander Graham Bell, this text message is made possibe: YOU ARE A WHORE
its a saturday night. im home alone watching legally blonde, eating week old birthday cake and drinking milk out of the carton. so yeah im doing real well
So I gave him a handjob and now we aren't friends anymore
You're at Notre Dame. What did you expect?
Is there a reason why the cops knew her name as they were chasing her?
He kept dropping hints about giving me crabs. Like he called my pubes a nest and said he "hoped there weren't any eggs in there."
Its a good night to get drunk in my onesie.
What bar did i puke in last night
by bar you must mean bars and by in you must mean on
I walked from the hotel to the club with a pint of tequila in my boot. Poured some in a homeless woman's mouth when she asked for change. I've hit rock bottom.
Actually, what with the curvature of the Earth, it's faster to leave from Washington. And Google maps recommends kayaking instead of swimming.
I just saw a commercial for God of War and heard the nickname he gave my vagina.
We're already drunk. 4 hours to go still. And there's a bear advisory. TOP WEEKEND.
Friendly reminder that on the walk home you tripped but instead of falling to the sidewalk, you tried to save it and ended up headbutting my ex-boyfriend in the balls. ILU.
Dad's teaching me to make moonshine this weekend as "college prep". How scared should I be sis?
I'm going to have to include Angry Orchard in my thesis acknowledgements
He just showed up in boxer briefs and loafers with only his phone and condoms
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