I'm so busy i barely have time to have sex with myself. I have to talk myself into it like an old married couple.
I woke up naked on my couch playing a video game I thought I had dreamed about... oh yeah, and someone cut my hair.
Next time someone asks you what your spirit animal is do you really want to answer the iowa state fair butter cow?
You know what, don't even answer. Just promise me you'll go to the Corner of Shame when you get home.
This is worse then when all the pharmacists sang me happy birthday while I was buying plan b
Dude, chad is laying across the room, violently, passionately, pornographicly eating something and I seriously think the 'some thing' is fighting back.
I'm convinced that the Christmas lights in my room contributed to the great sex.
My chest smells like french fries. Get at me attractive men.
He had "Bad Bitches Only" tattooed above his dick. I don't know his name but I hope I find him again. I also don't feel that I lived up to the challenge.
I'm concerned that this blind man on the bus has a boner right now
Last time he went to Europe, every time he started drinking he would wake up in a different country with no memory. There is no way he can be tour leader.
ripping the fire alarm off the wall probably seemed like a better idea last night than it really was.
On a toatally unrelated note, I see music in my hair
Rush week is fine, only the t-shirts are white and if it rains, the frat boys in their lawn chairs will be treated to 800 freshmen girls in their first wet tshirt contest.
Welcome to college.