i friday night watching house. god, i need a life, friends, and a legitimate fake id.
ppl dont tell me stories about anal. apparently im not a tell-me-stories-about-anal kind of person
my roommate just caught me washing a dildo in the sink.
theres no cameras in the kitchen right? cause i dont wana get fired for peeing in the kitchen in a cup
jess passed out on the pong table. it was depressing until we started singing shania twain an hour later and heard her muffled voice singing along.
He's drunk and putting on a tie for the jimmy john's delivery guy
you know it's the perfect hook up when you don't have any friends in common with his girlfriend on facebook.
It's like his dick is pushing through his pants and driving him over here.
We have zombies coming, and all you can think about is cock.
Remember that night I drank a bunch of vodka, pounded your Jameson because 'you were a pussy', punched you in the face and ran off as fast as my high heels could go? It was just my Russian and Irish sides fighting for genetic dominance
Im rolling face in a pizzeria. I want to be with people who love me.
He followed me on twitter after I posted a drunk screen shot of a tweet. It's like he gave me permission to stalk him on a whole different level.
Curdled. you forgot that word. It was a curdled buttery nipple shot.
Well after the shots I danced with a homeless guy, split my toe on broken glass, and had a 20 piece mcnugget. Who says postgrad life is boring.
I just coughed and my vagina hurt. We need to hook up more.
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