Writing a book: The Evolution of the Douche Bag: From Popped Collars to Ed Hardy Shirts. Doing research now.
Make sure you include chapters on white sunglasses, spray tans, and toxic amounts of hair gel.
this kid down the hall keeps banging on his drums...i feel like i'm living in jumanji
hey. who tried to drive me home last night?
not sure. we got lost. what do you mean "tried"?
i'm still in their car. parked on the beach. no one else is here. i have on different pants.
When I got to his place, he served wine and cheese and made me sit on the balcony while he read his poetry to me. He cockblocked himself.
i had to apologize to my friends for being friends with me
I love watching the kids I sold drugs to score touchdowns
To say the least, now you know you're a proper lady, passing a field sobriety test in heels...
i just added no after every hockey player in my phone..
Tonight that bitch will not be with him. You will drunkingly talk him out of this wedding. It is your duty as the one with the least amount of soul. Good luck.
I'm just gonna plan on never getting a bf. everything I touch turns to gay
You're wonderful. How are you always such a good friend?
50% genetics, 50% driven by a desire for people to drunkenly eat donuts at my funeral and then have fantastic cry-sex afterward.
He just unloaded a dump truck full of red flags on my head.
Crying while listening to Miley Cyrus. BE GLAD YOU JUMPED THIS SINKING SHIP!
so at 3am I stumbled into my parents house and crawled into bed with them, I need to start dating.
i had to flash a cab last night.
did it work?
No. he slowed down but then kept going. story of my life.
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