Sweet. Might not hurt to poop on the floor anyway.
Slutapocalypse this thursday. Invite every freshieee you hooked up with this semester to my house. Think of it like a meet n greet for them and battle of the sluts for us.
Making and watching you take a mixed shot with vodka, chocolate syrup, tobasco sauce, cranberry juice, and sundried tomato juice wasnt the highlite of my night. Hearing you puking from downstairs was.
I will no longer accept being cock blocked in my own bed.
You're the only person I know who would be upset about making out with a girl you like. You're like a drunken Charlie Brown.
I blew him while watching the aristocats. There were singing cats in the background. I think he he hummed along at one point.
The sense of comroderie I've built with my liver over the course of this semester is beautiful
I have major gossip for you.
Oh no, did you have sex last night?
If I had sex last night I'd probably post it on facebook. It's been that long and I'd be that excited.
He left a fire sauce packet from taco bell that said "promise you'll text me in the morning" on my nightstand.
One minute I'm going home the next I'm getting railed on the back 9.
What happened last night?
Lets just say you asked me a couple times if you had eyeballs..
Are you ok? Who pooped in my office?
She played the piano. I played the piano. She got on top of the piano. I got on top of her.
So turns out my new assistant isn't really my assistant. The owner needed a title for his FWB so his wife wouldn't catch on. I got a three hundred a month credit limit boost on my corporate credit card instead.
Why did I wake up with a half-eaten burrito and a vaccuum cleaner in my bed? ...on top of me.
Randomize
