They totally botched my boob job. My tits look like they're are winking.
Definitely locked eyes with the stripper who gave me a lapdance last night as she walked by me and into the Ann Taylor Loft in Times Square.
You know those ponds where you go and pay $5 and your guarranteed to catch a fish thats how i describe her
you thought you were invisible so you started narrating your actions.
Alright this has to stop. Without adderall I don't even have the motivation to get laid. College has ruined me.
Somewhere at this very moment, a group of drunk white girls are singing dont stop believing.
Ohmy god im about to fuxk my TA. i thyought this was a dream but i love you. <3
After much deliberation I've decided to name my penis "Arthur", hope your mom's surgery goes well.
Ok, let's play "if you were a slut" again and try and retrace our steps last night..
He said he got laid, but you and i both know he was too high to leave his house.
Was it fun? The night started with home made Jager and ended in him falling out of a tree with a pocket full of house numbers...you tell me.
Crowning achievement. I bought ranch dressing and emergency contraception.
There's a stripper getting there at 10 though so hopefully I'm out before the stripper gets there. I don't have time to deal with a stripper.
I'm a terrible person when I drink. I went from fine to not making any sense and yelling about cheese in like 30 seconds.
Or is it distressingly heterosexual?
Randomize
