If my nicknames are based on what I throw up, you can call me Jimmy Johns
I'm bringing in a picture of a stranger on facebook to get my haircut. I have reached a new level of creepy.
We've got 2 weeks of college left-I want to feel like Gary Busey by graduation.
Drunk in a canoe getting pulled by a lawn mower thinking of you
the coastal evacuation route ends at my vagina so you can just skip the bullshit and come over
I can't decide if the sex was so good I couldn't move, or if it was me being loaded on all the morphine that they shot me up with at the ER.
we can't get the sharpie off the toilet seat from where you pressed your forearm with THUG LIFE written on it while you puked until 3 last night
I had this image of some guy in a taco truck down by the IMA accosting you for a peep show.
My new hangover cure is going for a haircut, just so the stylists give me a scalp massage during the shampoo.
That certainly explains the nine times your hair has looked different just this last month alone.
The tequila covers up the fact that the choco liquor tastes like sadness.
I actually had to tell him that sex doesn't replace my Tupperware. Our relationship has reached a weird level.
No, supporting your unemployed boyfriend IS NOT what credit cards are for.
I joined the mile high club last night. I ran a mile while high on coke. It was glorious
Its a good night when you get to makeout with a cowboy
I just want a man in my bed on a regular basis, who cuddles, and who I can also occasionally hang out with outside of my bedroom. Is that too much to ask for?
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