I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
TAKE DOWN THAT PHOTO OF ME IN THE NURSES COSTUME NOW.
I dont care how high you are, meat and sprinkles dont mix dude
You insisted I take photos of you vomiting off the top of the tree.
You made me pull over because you thought a leaf was a twenty rolling across the road.
So neither of us had a dollar bill and we couldnt find a straw so we spent all nite doing coke through penne pasta
Found a grenade pin. Still no Dave.
Living in the dorms has served one purpose and one purpose only for me: to teach me that pooping in public bathrooms is okay and that I can do it
Some poor guy found you passed out in a bathroom stall. Again with your dick out. Looks like you got to rage after all.
I was so fucked up last night that I peed on his FATHER'S BED and fell asleep there. and yes. his father was asleep in the bed
You have not lived until you've had your brains fucked out on a broken down Tunnel of Love ride. Life is good.
Well, I guess you are not meant to have this fucking picture of an adorable baby duck.
Now you can NEVER tell anyone that on thanksgiving I took a selfie of my pussy to prove they don't get worse with babies.
Just FYI: if you happen to notice a liquid of some sort on my kitchen counter with an interesting color/ texture, don't taste it
DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT, PEE IN MY FUCKING TRASHCAN?!
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