i don't know how boys match. i think shoes & belt are the only thing. it doesn't matter. i just know if they look stupid.
I drunkenly recorded an episode of Family Matters last night. I took a shot everytime Carl Winslow had a mustache.
I went with the blow up doll and I'm glad I did.
I saw a girl walking around campus with bandages on both her knees. I need to get her number.
All I've accomplished this quarter is making Uno an acceptable drinking game.
martini and pecan pie.. breakfast of champions.
Easy Mac is falling out of my sweatshirt as I'm walking down the street.
I just found the gloves and lightbulb I stole. Did you pee on a ATM inside a bank?
Currently in the bathroom stall of a gay bar in new haven giving myself an anti throw up pep talk
I hate it when the guy who runs the chicken and waffles truck is convinced that I run a cult.
that is the opposite of a normal text message.
He wouldn't let me leave his house until he made me orgasm once for every year I've been alive. The birthday sex song did not prepare me for this.
tonights mission is daddy issue patrol - we wear old spice and drink gin martinis and see who reacts.
We're having play-off hate sex for a sport I don't even understand. Go USA!
You know your acid trip is going well when the orange you're eating gives you a life lesson
I woke up with my shoes on but pants in the fish tank
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