So what if i'm late to spanish tomorrow. who the hell cares. i don't even speak spanish.
Do you want the really bad news or the bad news? Or do you want it in chronological order?
You broke into someone's house and stole a pan of lasagna.
After a certain blood-alcohol level, the dog is in charge.
I was an emotional waste case that night. She made me stroke her ponytail.
You kept showing everyone at the bar your bra to prove it matched your shoes.
He's carved the words "SLAM STATION" into his headboard...
Yeah I'm at work. Nothing like the threat of blowing chunks on passing cars to make you feel alive.
Oh were you the stripper at that club last Sunday when i was trippin on acid wearing a giraffe outfit?
I may or may not vaguely recall punching you in the dick but it was a misunderstanding and I forgive you can we have make up sex?
You don't even know. The entire marching band thinks I'm an alcoholic.
I apparently pulled his dick out at the bar and started yelling "DICK PICS IN REAL LIFE!"
Excuse me while I gouge out my eyes.
In which case my work here is done.
Between randomly bursting into tears and the reappearance of my lost sex drive, this break up has left me bizarrely damp.
I can't decide which is the most disgusting: emily having sex on the stairwell of a frat, michelle shaving her vagina with a razor she found in a frat bathroom, or me getting fingered on the dance floor by some rando. opinions?
Randomize
