It made me feel like I need a reality show of my life so I could go back and watch the episodes to figure out how I got from the trunk of the car to my neighbors tree house...
I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
I just want you to know I tipped the cab driver $10 last night because I felt bad that he didn't have healthcare.
I learned the names of so many hookups when they read them at graduation
And he tried to make it as casual as possible by asking where i was going on vacation while he was poundin me.
He invited you over for Super Sexy Saturday and Cosmos... I'm pretty sure that's gay
Please tell me the foreign boys in the kitchen this morning were yours.
In case you come back to the room and i'm not here, yes there's a cup filled with gravy in the microwave. Just take it out if you need to heat something.
Was I shouting at a fire engine last Friday?
Is singing the Indiana Jones theme while I put on the condom off limits?
I'm not the one who can lose their erection, so it's fair game
The problem with Wednesday evening drinking is that no gets to my level. It's like like a one man party. But it's a goood party.
You were so stoked after landing that flip that you dropped acid with three random guys without hesitation
I'm going to give you the best blowjob of your life. And yes you can use my mom's printer.
All I remember about last st pattys day was I was in a bathtub with full bubbles, fully clothed, drinking out of a flamingo lawn ornament that someone cut a hole in.
she has no right to get mad at us for drinking during the wedding. she's the one that chose the bridesmaid dresses with pockets.
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