I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
you yelled then hung up at the girl on information bc she could not pinpoint your location and tell you how to get to dennys
tried doing a cartwheel after 10 beers. Guess who has a dislocated shoulder.
Your first words after putting out the flames, "how am I supposed to eat girls out with my top lip burned off??"
Yeah no more flaming everclear shots.
Mr. Clingalot just ran from our apartment. What the hell?
I started to cry afterward and mumble random things. Examples: "God, please don't make me be so gay anymore" and "my mom is going to be so proud of me for fucking a dude this time." It was that or let him stay the night and cuddle. I mean, fuck that horrible shit I'm a girl that needs her space.
No, they seem attractive after SIX beers, after three they're just the gender you're looking for.
You told the cashier at McDonald's not to smell the ones cause you had just got back from the strip club. Good deed.
I'm gonna rob all up in that cradle
Never thought I'd say this but the maple syrup flavored vodka probably wasn't our best idea
it's not like I want to die, I just want life to stop for a little bit. how does that work?
REWARD BLOWJOB!! STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE I'LL BE THERE IN FIVE MINUTES.
Oh dear. Sending much love.
Just send a machete.
these past three weeks have been a real "fuck you" to my liver
He has a penis. Therefore, he counts.
he had to stop me from eating snow off the street on the way back to pick up our cars. that's how hungover i am.
Randomize
