me texting you is like we have secret walkie talkies.
I think Charlie st. Cloud is the saddest thing I can masturbate to.
So update from last night: I made friends with a coke dealer, I tore the card scanner off the wall of my dorm, and I passed out on our bathroom counter with my head in the sink.
Do you ever wonder what the men who we shamelessly objectify would think if they saw our texts in regard to them?
You flew out of the bedroom, stole two Solo cups from the beer pong table, put them on your feet, clicked your heels together three times
Pretty sure I just puked up sand. And nothing else.
these are times I'm glad I'm Jewish because the Torah is just like "drink, eat, and fuck"
Wouldn't life be so much easier if you could just walk up to attractive men and say, "Let me bear your children" and it wouldn't be creepy?
Or possibly end in a restraining order?
How high is the bridge and how deep is the water and what are the chances I will get arrested
I, soberly, gave myself a concussion trying to take a pic of my vagina. Fuck you and your hangover.
Just ate Panda Express. Fortune cookie had no fortune in it. I actually prefer this. Less broken dream potential.
If you fuck up my birthday by dying I will kick your fucking corpse.
how am i in montreal? thats like a 3 hour train ride. i remember nothing.
How is it that on the one day I'm just moving my car at 6:30 I get the walk of shame looks but when I come home at 9 am in a torn dress holding heels old ladies smile at me?
like I'd leave you in a situation like that..pfft. what kinda friend do you think I am?
...a stoned one.
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