I'm twenty-five. I'm too old to be watching my friend throw up in Chipolte Parking lot.
I woke up at 2 pm to my roommate checking my pulse.
I told you it's awful. It looks like he was eating honey at a barbershop and tripped.
I threw a jar of pickles out the window at a police car, why was that not a good enough reason to put me to bed?
Wednesday. Otherwise known, to you at least, as "there are two gay men in my bed" day.
I ate the snowman's head. That is not a drug euphemism.
he built a boat made of joints. holyyy shit
I seriously think the toilet is the cleanest thing in their house. At least if I have to worry its not about that.
Relaxed was like phase 1 of this phase 7 high
But I mean how many guys can say they get blow jobs and grilled cheese with football
He's a cop. Do you know how many times I've said fuck the police? This is my chance. I'm taking it.
I'm in my math teacher's garage hiding right now because I fucked his son last night. It's fine
all I remember the next morning was crawling through the doggy door and finding my underwear in my purse
His mom wants to come see the dorm.
Hide the whip.
It took me years of patience and pilates and yoga and flirting to land that penis. So yeah, I’m going to ride it into the sunset and live orgasmically ever after
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