No one appreciates an amoeba in a balloon hat.
i puked out the bus window last night on the way home. i remember it, but i don't remember everyone else screaming to put their windows up.
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
You were partners with her mom and you began calling her "the Robert Horry of beer pong" You also kept telling her that she was hotter than her daughter.
i wish my apartment had room service that i didn't have to pay for.
I would have been "that girl" at the party last night if it wasn't for that girl who puked in the potted plant...
im contemplating emailing my dad and telling him how worthless i am and how sorry i am that he pays for my life...aka my bar tabs.
I remember desperately screaming that I love my life and running in zig zags all the way home
My signature move is making guys wonder why they bothered in the first place
He stumbled out of the bathroom with his pants around his ankles yelling "tie my shooes!"
We could have a classy candlelight sonic dinner with fireball cocktails if you leave now. Twat tickler centerpieces.
So last night, I bought mother's day cards and the Plan B pill.
Would it be weird if i sent him a "happy fuckiversary" text?
Dude, no, you tried to sleep on the stove. I mean. You were pissed when I stopped you... but I couldn't have you catching on fire in my house.
Why did you buy a cock ring?
I’m going to propose to his penis
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