You thought that the "chillable" logo on the box wine was referring to a city in italy.
the only reason why im excited to go home for break is to finally eat real fucking food and have normal bowel movements.
Its like I was sleeping with a kid. His gum fell into my hair while sleeping and he just wanted to cuddle.
I'm skipping the 'hey, how are you, I have to pick up something pointless at your apartment' excuse and just telling you I'm coming over to fuck.
josh has a chalupa in his pocket if you're hungry.
I've ID'd the nipple biter.
You tried to impress her by kicking the 5th floor button in the elevator, but you ended up kicking everything from 3 to 11. Then you said, "pretty accurate, huh ladies?"
I'm instituting a new rule. If you wake me up at 3am about wrinkled blankets, I get to throat punch you
You yelled "I gave my neighbor some of my bitch sauce" and then passed out. You now have drinking limits with us.
Considering the fact that everyone took the wrong jacket from that party, should we casually try to return the chalice and soccer ball we stole from last night?
HE'S LICKING FROSTING OFF OF THE EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD BOY
Moral of the story: fuckboys never change
I would just like to say that I was the one who said that we should find scissors, when they were cutting your hair with a kitchen knife. I am responsible.
I still feel bad for it, even though I technically only videotaped it and helped will to distract the questioning neighbor
I'm literally about to create a tinder account. Just so someone drives me to get food.
I don't want to be flamboyant (says the guy who bought a hot pink suit to be a flamingo for Halloween)--but I don't mind being a little extra.
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