Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. I drunk emailed a professor on friday. Oh my god. Oh my god.
it's like god just wants me to be high for five days in a row. keep the blizzards coming.
so it turns out that "condoms galore" does, indeed, come up on your bank statement
Umm. Any where really. Alcohol and boobs. Those are the requirements.
I wish I could sell my textbooks directly to my drug dealer and cut out the middle man
It was smashing those cupcakes into my face that did it. Junk food and I don't mix.
She started crying and told me to leave half way through, I'm walking down main with a bottle of patron and a sweatpants boner.
this better not be you asking for a beej
Oh boy...do i want the 'something you can tell your mom in 10 yrs' version or the 'Im gonna call you a whore but be proud' version?
She just tried to talk over a fart. The fart was way longer than the sentence she originally wanted to say so she just added gibberish to the end. Gross
Fuck underwear. Let's get stoned and eat ravioli.
I'm not sure we can use safewords tho. She smokes so much she had to keep asking what the safewords was. Bondage and bongs don't mix
Bumble is fuckin insane here. I'm going to break a hip.
Grandma keeps pulling a bottle of captain from her pocket and spiking people's drinks.. She just yelled "I'm DAMN HOT to be a grandma!" .. I LOVE HER.
I feel like you should store your weed in something that suits your personality. For example mines in a hollowed out disney princess book.
The last time we went to a costume party, you walked around in a loincloth with a cross and said you were Jesus. I'm eager to see how much more offensive you can be.
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