you dont know how to answer ppls txts anymore?!?
im sorry, i don't get text messages.
i just shit on the floor of my room. my roommate was in the bathroom, my choices were limited.
areolas are like halos for boobs.
Its trashy in the best of ways. Like a stripper working to pay for college.
we used the bottom of a tampon for coke since no one had a 20 on them. My life has resisted to this.
Def walking back to my apt with a blender, an empty vodka bottle, and a half eAtn drumstick cone.
Sorry for feeding you peanuts last night while you were sleeping, you looked hungry.
i have this gut feeling friday is going to be interesting.\nAnd by interesting I mean I feel like im going to get punched in the face by his girlfriend.
I just bought $54 in Easter crap to try and blend in the pregnancy test... And FYI, it totally worked.
If my bootycall doesn't bring over a Baconnator, I swear to fucking God, I'm not letting him in. The hunger is that real. Forget his Persian dick.
The CEO is on this whole 'what do you do with your spare time?' kick. Umm... get drunk and have sex in bar parking lots.
Man, coughing on your period is like the biggest gamble a girl can make.
None of these texts make sense. except for "step 2.5 equals velociraptor." that i get.
i was in class looking for a pencil and found a chicken strip in my back pack. i think i might have a problem.. sad thing is i ate it
i really didnt think i was that drunk last night but the txts from unknwn #s that say i like your lace panties are def telling me otherwise
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