Fiestas. Its like a classier verson of mardi gras.
Pretty girls always come out on top. Or bottom. Whatever. Point is we come out with their boyfriends.
I bought a goldfish, named it after my ex-girlfriend, and let it die. It's really the little things in life.
Forgot that I saved my paper as "Eat Shit Edwards" and e-mailed it because I missed class. I'm sure Prof. Edwards will be delighted when she gets it. I don't anticipate a passing grade.
If I go there, please come with. It will accelerate the lesbian rumor but be totally worth it.
Those titties aren't worth a lifetime of listening to her talk about gluten free yams and japanese manga.
He drew a bath for me. It was only cute until he started throwing in celery and calling me soup.
That's how you know it was a good night if two months later you finally realized your skirt never made it home and you found out where it was.
That feeling when you're ready to convert to the religion of whatever god will stop the vomit. Dynamite is illegal.
Just letting everyone know that I am still alive after last night. On a related note, this is the 15th "I'm not dead!" mass text I've sent. You've got to celebrate the little things.
must go to store soon wiping with panty liner ugh
What do you mean? Just eat his food and have sex with him. Unless you want a relationship, then just eat his food.
My friend Julia's mom just called her to say she got a puzzle in the mail made of cheese and when she put it together it spelled FUCK YOU and she doesn't know who it's from.
She thought I was dancing but I just couldn't catch my balance for 11 blocks.
Wanna get business drunk and go play golf?
Randomize