I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
the liquor store lady asked about three times if I was sure about buying two fifths of everclear. i told her I wanted to be on cops
the girl next to me in class is drinking a margarita out of a slurpee cup. i know your going to ask how i know its a margarita and the answer is i can smell the tequila. i never want to leave this place
And then you gave the bride a high five and said "Go forth and Consummate."
Sitting here wishing there were men in my life.
me too. too bad ive decided to fill that hole with cookie dough, closing the door to future men one fat cell at a time.
What do I have to do to get you laid? I talked to that girl with the ugly dog for 45 minutes trying to get you in, and all you said was "Steven Spielberg is my favorite director."
No one even knew you were hurt until we saw the multiple cuts to prove it, and when we asked what happened all you could say was "I fell out"
i'm way too high for it to be safe that i just discovered i have a fire extinguisher
For future reference, Twizzlers CAN leave welts.
well, I was going to forgive her anyway but not because shes my best friend and moreso because shes my drug dealer
Whatever. That's why I am to be babied like a calf. I regret nothing.
The inflatable penis from those pics was mine... We broke him that night
starting to feel like a fuck wizard with a magical sixth sense for people fucking.
We only initially bonded over boobs and sarcasm
I'd date him. I'd date the fucking shit out of him.
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