You do realize it's a Tuesday, right?
You do realize I stopped giving a fuck about calendars when I was 10, right? And besides, it could be the best Tuesday of your life.
Worst bachelorette party. She got smashed and cried because she thinks she might have herpes from when she cheated on him. Not looking good for them.
She's currently upstairs fucking her boyfriend while I am downstairs making them a sex playlist watching her boyfriend's Weiner dog and large Boxer try and mount each other. Marvin Gaye is playing. This is the ultimate third wheel fail.
Be ready for a dog pile. On your head. With my ass.
This tiny Canadian guy just tipped me $20, a piece of gum, and a joint. I wasn't working. He literally tipped me for talking to him.
Plan B, arranged marriage to a rich Indian, is rapidly becoming Plan A. Fuck Finals.
I sleep texted my mom and asked her for a condom last night
Tequila, beer, rum, gin, and vodka all mixed in my body last night. The whole "never turn down free booze" is catching up to me. Hungover = understatement of the year.
Last week in my political science paper I quoted the Mighty Ducks. This week, I compared the Constitution to a weird pickle law in Connecticut (by law, it's not a pickle unless it bounces). So, yeah, clearly I'm ready to be back to being a college student.
You having your own car has severely reduced the amount of blowjobs I get.
My day went from bad to worse when I realized I puked out my second floor window last night.
Just bailed on her the best way possible. Got tickets to the game. Only issue is.... if we lose, we not only lost, but I skipped sex to watch us lose
I've really become a household name at this fraternity. Mother would be so proud.
That wasn't even sex. That was a fuckoning
...did you just create a word for what we did?
My feet surprised me
Randomize
