I'm gonna write a book, Things that go bump in the night: The story of Katelyn. Chapter one, my roommate is a dumb whore.
the dude from the bar called to tell his mom about me immediately after we finished PLEASE COME GET ME
Oh my god it just tripped me out that I used to be a baby, I had to tell you.
Sunburnt clitoris. How do I deal with it.
all you kept saying from the spare room was "can you bring me a puke bowl...and the cat"
The last thing i remember is saying breakfast beer and carrying the keg to my room and locking the door.
My mom would probably be ok with my lifestyle as long as she doesn't see that photo of me doing bong rips in a Jesus costume.
You know its been a rough night when for a large portion of the evening you have accepted your death
I mean, I love her. But not "I'll have a threesome with her." Type of love.
Dropping the entire last roll of TP into the toilet is a hurt you don't want to know.
Also I like this area. Lots of places for me to get tacos.
It wasn't a mystery that it was the pizza cooking in the oven when we stumbled out of the bedroom in a smoke filled apartment at 2am. We are dangerous drunks
He cried & told me I reminded him off his mother. I don't want to talk about it. I want to drink about it.
THE STRIPPER HAD A GUN JOHN!
He was gone when I woke up. But he left skid marks on my sheets and our unopened bottle of Titos is missing
New Rule: No more sleepovers with guys we met on Reddit
Randomize
