I'm buying this stripper a house, I don't care what her name is.
I'm going to an arts college, I live next to the frat houses, and my room number is 420. god has plans for me and I couldn't be happier.
You bit the bartender when he refused to poor rum in your purse and hand you a straw.
Seriously, I was a high class hooker. I was snorting shit Rachel, white powder, lines formed with credit cards, the dudes house was beautiful. Magnum condom. Adorable puppy dog. Pretty sure at some point I was sleeping on a washing machine. Boxing Gloves.
Those were the highlights of my night.
Someone's having a good night if they're getting gummi bears and Astroglide.
Why is there a video on my phone of us trying to snort a line of Reeces Pieces with you chanting "This is how fat girls party"?
When people ask about my bruises, I'm just going to say it was a doorknob. Or possibly a group of doorknobs. Angry doorknobs.
I'm having a really difficult time dealing with the fact that my dog now shares a name with Snooki's crotch-spawn.
I'm sooo hungover. I fell asleep on top of a car in a parking lot last night. New one to add to the list.
You were running around waving the flier in everyone's face and thats how we ended up in a church eating free breakfast tacos at 3 am
He is peeing inside and sticking up for himself. Those are two of the four signs of the apocalypse.
I told him I had an IUD and he asked me how was a bomb a form of birth control..
If I get laid tonight it will 1.) Prove that the sex gods do in fact exist, and 2.) Show that I am one motherfucking badass bitch.
It turned from Netflix and chill to cringeworthy YouTube videos and chill. At least he's honest.
The career specialist read an Onion article to us. Please send help.
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