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.
Somebody started a fire in the kitchen. I puked on it till it went out. The firemen high fived me.
She told me I should be a condom model.
My roommate didn't flush after her miscarriage. Time to drink myself blind. I need you for moral support. Or so I don't have to drunkenly cry alone anymore. Whatever, help.
you were sat in the corner crying until someone gave you a baguette, which you then tried to feed to the duck doorstop.
I regret nothing
As far as drugs go, alcohol has all the elegance and precision of hitting yourself in the head with a hammer.
adding to the list of how to lure in freshman boys: take dogs for a walk, yell at them from across the street, sit on the curb at 3 in the morning sobbing
yo knit me an eyepatch. but also make it usable as a thong
Me too, I feel like I pinched your nipples excessively. At the time it seemed like a good idea, but in retrospect I'm not so sure.
At the bar, some guy bumped into you and you screamed "hey, don't touch what you can't afford sunshine!"
I genuinely attribute some of my blowjob skills to playing saxophone in highschool
My dad told me I would need to be my mom's DD tonight. So, that's how my Easter weekend is going down.
I feel like with a dick like that he could of done more with it
He stopped me mid-blow job to say that his new year's resolution was to stop hooking up. MID FUCKING BLOW JOB.
He's eating a sriracha ravioli sandwich. How do you think the night is going?
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