I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
his roommates said i can move in if i promise to only drink tequila the rest of the semester. challenge accepted.
He's blaming gravity for his problems right now, so put that in perspective
Her mom walked into the garage as we were smoking a kush blunt with sombreros on.
I got to explain to the guys at work today how i had no choice but to go to a gay bar because I was handcuffed to a lesbian.
Listening to Whitney Houston sing the National Anthem while I shit before going out tonight. America.
She's doing hand stands on the train as I type. Idk if I'm impressed it embarrassed. Or turned on.
We ended not having sex. I didn't want to explain that I was wearing a Unitard because all my socks and underwear were dirty.
I found a bag of weed while packing. Now packing is like creating tiny universes inside of boxes.
Goodbye spring break, hello depressing video on AIDS.
You played Frank Sinatra today after we had sex. You moved way up in my literal book of men. Congrats.
I'm having a martini with dinner. A new level of class.
I'm stoned and eating mustard, also a new level of class.
I opened a bud lite with a fencing sword last night. Yeah you banged that guy.
There's a girl passed out on the sidewalk at the parade. Its not even 10am. She gave candy to children saying it was ketchup. Still think I have a problem?
Like, I don't need to know your life dude. I just need you to suck my tits.
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