Tampa is so boring. I'm dying. I want lots of cleavage at my funeral. If i cant get laid, i want my friends to. I'm that kind of person
I can tell how much and what I drank by my morning shits
The brown eye won't let me do that either.
I can make a handprint turkey for extra credit in history. I feel like the word college should be in quotes on the school letterhead.
Sitting in the library lobby in the middle of exam week. Drunk. Dressed as santas slutty helper. Waiting for the student shuttle service. People are clapping for me as they walk by. Tell me how this isnt college
Where is my rescue team. I keep hiding shit. And I'm trying to give out shots of olive oil
I'm trying on my bridesmaid dress so that I can determine what will need to be done to achieve getting fucked while wearing it.
Is it possible to just pretend that everything we did after grilling up your goldfish didn't happen?
The sun is gonna brush it's hairy dick across my forehead in the morning, gently whispering: "you're 4 hours late for work"
She said we couldnt stop drinking until there were enough bottles to make a fort. so we could have sex in our "bottle castle"
So on a scale of 1 to Friendship-Over, how mad would you be if a rando I brought home sharted on the shag carpet in the living room?
Now I can say "look me up on Pornhub."
Also one of my neighbors is blasting "pumped up kicks" and possibly butchering some chickens
who the fuck is meatball and why is he telling you to nap on the bar
I'm sitting on the couch playing the sims, how's ur night going?
I'm sitting on my floor, drinking wine, and listening to bette midlers "wind beneath my wings"
Why are our lives so predictable?
Randomize
