I'm gonna write a book, Things that go bump in the night: The story of Katelyn. Chapter one, my roommate is a dumb whore.
you know it's time to start studying when you've procrastinated to the point where you're reading your roommate's ex-boyfriend's wall posts from 2006.
Woke up with 3 sports bras for underwear. Valiant effort drunk me.
I keep calling his kid the wring name. This is not helping my cause. And by cause mean his dick
Ok... I'm a little jealous... Grab her pig tails and ride her like a jet ski. Making motor noises is optional.
He said in a slur "I go so hard, even when I..." and cut himself off by projectile vomiting all over the ice luge.
Remembering I sold my brand new Blackberry to a stranger for a few pints = Worst night of my life. Now to work out what I did with my shoes.
I just found a plastic cup with panties inside of it. Let's play CSI.
If we can't get laid at a bar crawl, we should just quit life.
It is unclear if my flaming esophagus is hangover induced.
I will expect an hourly check text to confirm you are alive and that you aren't dead in a ditch somewhere with a hobo dry humping your corpse
Congratulations, you have turned my vagina into a garden hose.
We had sex and I never took my mets hat off... I feel like Duda knows and approves.
Even with help how did you paint a bullseye around your asshole?
you should probably call the Bronx Zoo in the morning to formally apologize
its the right thing to do
Randomize
