I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
All the good ones are taken. All that's left is the Harry Potter geek or the asshole in the corner. I think I'll settle for Harry Potter.
You were so drunk you tried to sell your salsa to everyone on the restaurant.
new years resolution: more sex, less car punching, more chipotle.
birthday sex, birthday sex, birthday sex
I'm on my period, period, period
I just smoked a bowl in the dining room and am now drinking a glass of chocolate milk. i can't believe i'm getting paid for this.
Just found my toeprints on the glass of his sunroof.
He let me keep his flannel as a "good job" for the great head I gave him.
Um he just came into the kitchen naked to get her purse or something?
Well, at least he doesn't refer to you as his associate. his mattress associate
You kept apologizing for not offering me some of your Whisky, which you referred to as "Jesus Nectar".
Think about if the incredible hulk and king kong had a retarded baby. That's the sound she made in my ear the entire time I fucked her.
Say what you will, but only I can throw up on someone's door and make it look like art.
That's the last time I'm letting you drink that apple vodka
I threw up in my backpack last night, but at least it wasn't in the pizza box again
I agree with that homeless guy though, you do need a haircut
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