I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Well, it's 24 hours till finals. I need high A's on all of them and I still am not sure where exactly on campus most of my classes took place.
College is just filling the gap until I get a rich girl pregnant
no jill really. Evrything around me is talking to me. The plant, my dog, the tv,the lamp. Its amazing.
Thanks for FaceTime'ing with that ugly chick last night while me and her friend were in the other room. it's good to know I can still count on my wingman even when we're 2000 miles apart
That's what you said about that spiderman stripper, but look how that turned out
Nothing like a Mormon bachlorette party to make you feel slutty
I could hear them screwing through my bedroom wall again this morning, so I started beat boxing to the tempo.
All I remember is intermittent flashes of being passed out on the side of the road 3 or 4 different times. And telling him to just leave me there and I would walk home in the morning.
But he was wearing a glow-in-the-dark condom. It was like a glowing rod of kryptonite. I can't resist that, kryptonite is my weakness.
Remember that time you bought snap bracelets on Amazon and they sent you 300 pregnancy tests instead? Amazon knows.
Well. No wine. And no real mixers. I'm using vodka and grape juice and calling it Slurrrlot. Happy Holidays bitch.
my extended weekend of being as irresponsible as possible started with blowing the bartender in the bar bathroom. off to a good start.
Jello shots? I thought you weren't drinking tonight.
Im not drinking im slurping
so he found out i have him as "average size" in my phone. fair to say we arnt going to be dating anymore
Randomize
