I'm going to an arts college, I live next to the frat houses, and my room number is 420. god has plans for me and I couldn't be happier.
you ate skittles off the table like a hungry hungry hippo. it was awesome.
i woke up today to a handjob from this really fat girl that keeps calling me michael phelps
areolas are like halos for boobs.
I'm drinking vodka out of a coffee pot. and i'm not even mad about it
I'm pretty sure I just had a convo with my hot pockets about how they weren't good enough for the oven.
I tried. Now my legs are bleeding and I cracked my head on the coffee table. Never taking your advice again.
You refused to get in the cab so we rock paper scissored to decide who walked you home and the fat guy was it. So don't blame your poor hook-up choice on me; it was all you.
When you text me tomorrow to remind me to mail your parking pass, also remind me to make sure i did NOT pack my vibrator for this family vacation
nothing like a call from your drunk grandpa at midnight on a wednesday to ask your parents if you're registered to vote...
I have chafed skin from the handy she gave me. I told her that and she said return the favor when it heals. I'm in love.
i just called my dad a bottom. he agreed
And tan into my neighbor in the elevator. She was going to the gym. I was covered in mascara and dog hair eating a hash brown
So what did you do since you didn't go out?
...ate chocolate and watched bring it on....it's like I don't even know what it would look like to be straight.
Hammered...8am...why is there chickens in the living room?
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