I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
Every one of her profile pictures looks like an ad for American Apparel. Of course she has syphilis.
I think you missed the wrong class. Im pretty sure we were taught how to buy cocaine.
I don't know if it's the amount i drank last night or the number of taylor swift statuses on facebook but i feel like puking everywhere
This is how I ended up being the slutty friend isn't it?
I'm having mini little movies in my head. Like for example. You were talking to a blue whale with jazz man sunglasses, but not the ray charles jazz sunglass. More like sunglasses that are round. Anyway, he has a baguette and stupid french hat. And you , you had your harry potter glasses.
Either I'm deep cleaning my apartment out of severe academic procrastination or I'm subconsciously nesting and need to take a pregnancy test.
Oh yea... In other news I've decided to get an external hard drive and start getting music from all the guys I'm fucking... Do you think a terabyte would be enough storage space?
In my next life I better get to be a bird. Fuck flying. I'm gonna shit on your car. Every. Day.
My mouth feels like it's at the dentist but my body feels like it's at the strip club.
Son of a bitch took my liquid eyeliner
You are an awesome peach made of glitter.
Instead of asking him how many women he's slept with I just got straight to the point and asked how many Plan B pills he's purchased
I just want somebody who'll randomly bring me pizza and lovingly squeeze my butt. Is there a dating app for that, do you think?
He was about to go in...and he fell off the bed. Ruined mood!
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