this morning i woke up under the kitchen table. i went to my room and there was an inflatable whale in my bed with a banana duct taped to where its penis should be. there were trails of cheez-its around my apartment and i found $67 in the crotch of my underwear. im guessing i had a very happy birthday.
woke up in nothing but a glued-on tiger tail. they used super glue.
He added me on Facebook. I'm pretty sure he got my name from the inside of the bra I had lost in the frat house.
This is the moment in my life where I take a fork in the "nice guy" road ive traveled for 23 years and fuck everything in sight that doesnt have herpes, or is in-between flare ups and I don't know about it until my dick is on fire.
I should start printing out disclaimer handouts and passing them out to people saying, "I can not be held responsible for anything I say or do this evening."
There's a drag queen here that reminds me strongly of you. You should try crossdressing.
I may or may not have just hot boxed a backhoe on the construction site of a police station that's being rebuilt..
I just made a flawless coverstory for why I dont have my car and why I left the party on foot. #adultererskills
literally 50% of my time being 20 has involved my genitals thus far
And that facial hair. He might as well shave it so it spells "douche" on one cheek and "nozzle" on the other.
He called my vagina his wife... how is that NOT creepy?!
She wouldn't fuck me because I had a cast, so I took her friend home
How I know that I'm single: when I get a save the date for a wedding & I read "& guest" my first thought was does my bottle of Jack Daniels count.
I have "if found please return to" written in sharpie on my arm, my uterus is rejecting everything, and I have hickies. I must actually be an 18 year old piece of shit girl instead of a responsible 23 year old
I could have sworn that I went home last night... but judging from the couch I just woke up on, apparently not.
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