its summer. and we all know college gfs do not count in summer.
college gfs dont count ever. theyre like getting corn rows in jamaica. you feel cool at the time. then you go home and people make fun of you.
she was a 2....and a legitimate 2. like, helen keller is a 1, this girl...2.
Somehow last night, my dad got me so drunk that I ended up throwing up on the couch, turning the cushions over to hide it, and going to sleep on them.
He adopted an old drug sniffing dog so that he won't lose his weed around the house anymore. It works.\n
update: last drink of the night and im naked in my porch hammock. life is good.
we were shitfaced at work by 8pm. I had to stop myself from pouring vodka in everyone's cappuccino.
When I told her that her boyfriend was making out with another chick, all she said was "which one"
Oh god I may vomit into the teacup of debauchery.
My meds have diminished my sex drive, this must be what regular women feel like
DONT EVER DUNK OREOS INTO WINE . NEVER
Don't worry, I could have been accepted their by waving my dick at the admissions building.
I'm so glad we both made out with him though. I feel like that really brought us together
Also I played a weird game of chicken in the ladies room at work between myself the person pooping 2 stalls over and a very determined maintenance man.
nobody put me to bed and I ended up peeing on a tree and got written up
can we do this tomorrow? ...i accidently got high.
Randomize
