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.
There is no way he is gay with that hair.
We were busted for public indecency in the back of my car in the parking lot. This time we were just reading my Cosmo magazine.
You go to school with some of the ugliest girls I've ever seen... How are you not getting laid?
Problem: At home sick with a stomach virus. Solution: smoke weed all day...
He looked at me like he has never had a girl throw up on him before.
The highlight of my night was definitely explaining the bandaid on my nipple.
I have come to realize that my purpose in life is less musical and more as a filter of alcohol into water.
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
I don't think casual Fridays means I can go to work with dried cum in my hair...
I went back to the party but by then they were all sitting on the floor in the dark listening to we are the champions on full blast.
A guy is going to be inside me and I'm gunna start singing "I am stuck on your penis, cause your penis is stuck in meeee!"
Who suggested the eggnog wet t-shirt contest last night like whose idea was that
Speaking
You know we have no secrets, right? I mean, you saw me shitting in a gift bag drunk and naked on Christmas eve.
I got a free corona t-shirt and all I had to do was drink a beer. This needs to be a more widely accepted form of currency.
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