Hello Stephanie, you need to come pick me up at Par Blvrd correctional facility and bring $750-$1000 for bail. I just got a DUI. Thank you.
What!?!?! How are you txting?!
Because this is Officer Reynolds, and I just arrested your boyfriend.
The walls in my apartment are so thin that sometimes when I fart, I stop to listen if people are laughing next door.
Sorry if I ruined your sex last night with my constant text updates about the plot of Bolt.
Jake just asked if thanksgiving was an american thing...I left the table
Sober Sundays just aren't working out anymore.
What's worse: not calling my parents in Dallas to make sure they're alright or not taking shelter to masturbate all over my douchebag roommates clothes?
I worry about you.
I think I reached some stage of aging, have a sore/injured shoulder from sex, next up carpal tunnel from sexting.
Okay well we need to be adults. We're gonna end up with diabetes or some shit.
I threw up in my closet when I was hammered last night. Like a fucking toddler. I can't play with the grow ups.
I can't tell if my bong is gender-neutral or not
I have no idea why my husband is mad that I came home at 4 am & all I want to do is eat spaghettios. It's not fucking spaghettios fault.
I feel like there should be a 'roommate information section' of the paperwork when there's a chance you'll be given pain killers.
250 people in this lecture & my prof asks who already drank green beer this morning& is drunk right now. I WAS THE ONLY ONE TO RAISE MY HAND
I found a 9 minute video on my phone of you singing into an eggplant.
I'm sorry, but the bed has won this battle. I got up, changed my shirt, combed my hair, put on some deodorant, and then looked at my bed and got back in
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