I've come to the conclusion that as a grad student I would much rather prefer to get laid then get drunk
I think you know full well that a few years ago my stance was the polar opposite
Just heard someone use the phrase "slut mustard" in a sentence. Win.
My fucking roommate unpluged my alarm; I pissed on his clean clothes.
Found out why they call her Halfpipe Jenny-NOT the cool reason we thought
Home safe. Psyche shattered. Still rolling. In love with the morrocan rug in the living room.
I fed him jelly beans while he fingered me. Win, win situation.
Close your eyes and stop texting and think about puppies. You'll be fine.
I know it I should, but it's kinda nice. It's smells like unbridled enthusiasm and copious amounts of melt your face off sex.
I walking on her passed out on her bed, clutching a burrito and the walking dead dvd on replay.
In other news my cocaine dealer got arrested for heaving some kid out of a fourth story window.
Your shoe was in the washing machine. I have it in my pocket. My phone rang before and I answered your shoe. Meet me at the bar in 10.
I made a bong out of my deodorant today. Did you?
Two questions: is there going to be a bathroom at this party, and can we fuck in it. This will define whether or not I enjoy going to parties with you.
If it makes you feel any better, I can't find the goldfish I dropped like five minutes ago.
The last time we went to a costume party, you walked around in a loincloth with a cross and said you were Jesus. I'm eager to see how much more offensive you can be.
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