If I don't come home tonight, I've died in a pile of gay.
You're the host. Of course you wear the diaper. It's like wearing the pants.
The coffee from our coffee maker just hasn't tasted normal since we made Mac n cheese in it that one time....
The 9th floor RA wants to know why we stacked 21 cinder blocks in the shower, and I can't remember. Do you?
I'm tangled in a fishing net down at the harbor. This has nothing to do with Captain Morgan. Bring wirecutters.
I officially became the girl who let a guy get her off under the covers last night while her roommate and a friend were there. He was impressed by my ability to stay quiet and stay relatively focused on the conversation...
I am so ashamed of you, and yet so proud.
I was stumbling so much, men walking behind us were shouting "don't hit the pole! don't hit the pole!" whenever I was near a telephone pole.
And by sexy pictures I mean pictures of my penis in strange places. I rock out with my cock out.
Yeah. I mean it wasn't that awkward. I just made conversation like there was absolutely no lack of pants.
He tried to tell me that that stripper was his aunt..
You spent like 10 minutes trying to hit a golf ball that was actually a cigarette butt. And then fell over.
I don't know what to do with my life other than going on Reddit and watching porn.
Not this time. I'm drinking in my sweatpants which means I've given up for the day and shouldn't be in public.
Our entire day shift is on either molly or acid. I'm about to take two hits of the latter.
On my way home I saw a car that had "MOVE OVER PLZ" emblazoned across the windshield backwards, so people could see it in their rearview mirror
If I ever drive for Lyft or Uber I'm definitely gonna do that
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