I had a dream last night that Anthony Bourdain gave me a vibrator.
my brother is a facebook fan of two things: God, and Rhianna. if he's not a prime example of the rare "baptist closeted gay," i don't know who is.
No stds, not pregs, and lost two pounds. I'd call that a successful two years of grad school.
My chemistry professor just asked me if I ever found a ride home from the bar last Saturday
I mean, I know they're ugly, but I cant turn down a birthday threesome.
im hiding in a corner. drunk. with a plate of stolen jello shots. im pretty sure people are looking for me or the jello shots.
This coming from the girl who broke up with a guy because she found out he played the tuba in middle school.
I pulled out moves I did not even know I possessed, our fucking de-throned gods
Like I'm literally drinking whiskey and making a stocking for my cat right now. What. Goes. On.
Fuck you fireball...just straight up fuck out of here
"Fuck all you guys I'm going to be Cameltoe Spider-Man for Halloween."
If I were better looking, this would be the point where I'd resign myself to stripping.
I thought you died. Don't forget it's burger night.
You know it's a good night when the word slut is imprinted on your ass and your hands smell like lube.
i hooked up with all four beatles on halloween get on my level
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