stuffed animals make me feel really maternal.
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 fell asleep mid BJ last night. I put your pants back on you. My ego is pretty bruised this morning.
So there is a guy driving a robot around the college of engineering selling energy drinks
I keep telling myself last night was not real, not real, not real. Then I remember I can't move. This hangover is too fucking real.
He doesn't belong with God. He belongs face-down in a pile of his own excrement, vomit, blood and semen. Then pissed on by Satan.
My lower body still feels like its been through a garbage disposal and a trash compactor. In that order.
It's like if a cloud had tits and you laid on them.
Drinking vodka and pirating music in the library. Welcome to finals week.
I just woke up ass naked on top of all my sheets, with no blinds in my room because i used them as togas, my back is killing me, im covered in sharpie, i have no memory of last night, and im pretty sure im still drunk. I consider the night a success
Drunk packed a lunch. Made two turkey sandwiches and threw in a bag of raw bacon. Gold star for the day drunk self.
11% beer and firearms, what could possibly go wrong?
The fake number she gave me was for Pappa John's. Now I have a large pepperoni on the way.
So how do you explain to your boss that Siri called him mid sex?
I can't control his boners. I can only encourage them.
Randomize
