shit is crazy. i just keep thinking that this kid growing inside Emily used to live in my balls.
I don't know whether I should be pissed that there's glitter in my bed or proud that there's semen in there too.
i'm starting to get really nervous about the relationship i have with my cat
you took out flashcards at the bar and went around asking guys what totalitarianism meant.
wait one more day. tuesday is my official "i hit on you and/or we hooked up this weekend" friend request day.
all i remember is screaming butter knifes are for pussies.
He walked in, tore open the drawer, pulled out a condom, and slammed it shut. He was that ready.
She wasn't to happy when she went to put her shirt on and it was covered in cum I just looked at her and said collateral damage....
The last thing I remember was paying off her younger brother not to judge me, then puking on his shoes.
When I see myself in tank tops and push up bras I seriously wonder why I'm not President.
The best part is every argument that she makes from here on out will be refuted by "Oh hey remember that time you shit yourself wearing someone else's sweatpants at a frat party?"
So I come back home and a huge flock of enormous vultures are on my roof
They're waiting for you to die
im in the post action - pre consequence stage.
His grandpa picked him up. Brought him to the house. And made him clean the puke off the driveway with a broom and a bucket of water.
When you went off to sleep with that guy that looked like a dirty Jesus and I asked why all you had to say "trying to keep Christ in Christmas" and left. The Vatican called, you're going to Hell.
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