Check if I'm alive tomorrow. If not, tell my parents I died happy and that there's a gay cheerleader in the spare bedroom
not my fault. i got her to believe he wrote an oasis song. he still managed to find a way to make sure no girl ever gets near his penis.
i love beer. I convinced myself that I'm going to ace the exam tomorrow. I can't even do that when I actually study.
Never get a handjob from a girl who gives deep tissue massages.
he just looked at me and whispered "these are my sea lions. my sea lions." and then went back to licking the mirror
i'm reaslly not drunk enough to wtch the fat lesbian on my floor brng another fat lesbian dressed up as a bloody nurse into her room at 2am
In all seriousness, if tomorrow night becomes a heated game of Which Ex Gets To Take The Plastered Birthday Girl Home, I'm going to bow out with my integrity intact.
Im shrooming at the foot of a tree on top of a mountain. Feeling fly as fuckin socrates and bon iver.
There's a stoned dwarf chilling in the basement here. Maybe there are redeemable qualities about this place.
I can't believe I've come to a point in my life where sex for a birthday present is acceptable
I'm a sociology major remember
Well that and comm
Basically you majored in how to get laid
I'm so confused as to where the sexual euphemisms end and the drinking starts
whenever i get involved w someone i'm gonna give you their number to testify to the fact that they should not fall in love with me
Tequila. The ruiner of all good intentions.
Why can't he see that I don't want a slow getting to know you period? I just want to bone. NOW.
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