Sitting at a red light. Windows are down. I'm blasting Gaga's "Disco Stick" and doing an interpretive dance to it because I think I'm hilarious. Look to the left and see two Phi Delts that I know with their windows down. They are horrified. I am probably going to lose their Facebook friendships.
BEES IN MY FUCKING PANTS. HELP.
id like to know how you successfully locked me in your backseat last night
I literally might walk of shame home on a cable car. If that doesn't scream San Francisco I don't know what does
Headed to the bar now. If I smell faintly of latex and tuna, it's just the new scent I'm trying.
I don't know what to be prouder of: the fact that last night i was able to successfully find my way home from evanston with 3-d glasses on, or that i was able to make my way around my house in the dark with my pants around my ankles
we're a generation of lazy underachieving stoners and uncreative overachieving automatons. you're golden
The universe is cradling this hangover like a gay couple cradles their newly adopted chinese baby.
I would recommend NOT getting ass enhancement shots.
Then you're three pancakes deep in regret.
He came inside and met my grandmother after we had sex in the driveway. I love that he has a van.
I know I say this every year but 2015 will be the year I finally have sex with David's sister
I'm never celebrating Galentine's Day again. It was a whorrific mess.
If he ever pulls my hair again, I'm going to conveniently have lock jaw. Then he can decide whether pain during sex is still fucking appealing.
Definitely went to court without a bra and panties because Mr. LastNight’s dog stole them. I guarantee you I was the only lawyer going commando in court
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