There were 3 chicks in my bed I didn't know when I got home. Now I know all of them. Biblically.
I'm in the dining hall. that same guy is here again, the one who sits alone and talks to his silverware.
Just had a drunken guest at my hotel threaten to "throw a fuckin fireball at my face"
He tried to say the picture wasn't him. Like I'd forget his curved boner.
Last thing I remember clearly was, "ok, but if we're are gonna get drunk before class, there's no half-doing this"
Dude. The only thing that I use less than my dick is my tennis racket. We need to play.
My dating life has become some fucked up hydra of dicks; you cut one off and two pop up in its place.
You just referred to a pillow with a stolen bra strapped to it as "she". Let that sink in for a minute.
At the very least, I mastered a nap while occasionally being dry humped.
I'm doing an Uber ride of shame in a red, white and blue bikini top and America shorts. Good for me.
The memory of your penis haunts me. I must learn to be satisfied with lesser men than you.
Nice. Ask if they watched saved by the bell. yes=legal. No=jailbait
Not my fault people bought me shots. waving a shot in my face is like waving a cock in yours
He kept saying "i'm lost" while he was sitting on his couch...
I just puked on the sidewalk. At 11am. Thought you'd like to know.
Just found out I lit my hair on fire last night.
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