I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
you need to do more things constructive for your career. like wearing pants more often.
I walked in on him cutting a hole in the condom.
I just don't want to have to pretend at every family function she brings him to that he didn't hit on me first
Just realized the guy is in my class. Unless there's another guy that had half his ear bit off at a St. Patty's party
My neighbors are outside blasting Hootie and the Blowfish while drunkenly hitting a stump with a hammer. I could get used to this.
Nothing like wearing your heels and smelling like henney in the afternoon
Covered in confetti and bad decisions
I don't get hangovers. Except once. And there is a massively epic story behind that, involving so much alcohol I should have died, and 13 raw hotdogs.
I'm almost too hungover to function. Got into the wrong car by mistake. there was a rotweiler in it. Thank god he was more confused than i was for a minute.
And I'm stuck at home while my dad's in vegas hanging out with Zach gali... Zach... That guy from the hangover
He told me the hickey on the side if his neck was actually a "bruise" from hitting a bird on his motorcycle. I'm not sure what's more impressive, the fact people believed him due to the size of the mark or the fact you gave it to him.
I wonder whether Megan will forgive me if i have phone sex in her attic
You’re like one of those doomsday preppers, but for your vagina
I want to find him again. His Corona tank top and I were made for each other.
Somehow my life has turned in to drug deals at the bar, and illegally camping on a mountain because I have no where else to live.
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