Listen, I'm 30. If it doesnt involve a super soaker and some chicken wings, you can count me out.
okay I may or may not have wrapped my body pillow up in your t-shirt and sprayed it with your axe and am now spooning with it.
again? I'm starting to get a little creeped out now.
I just woke up at my desk with "To Whommmmmmmmm" typed on a letter. I have no memory of waking up, getting dressed or driving in.
You may have noticed the broken smoke detector and melted carpet. We may have accidentally lit a ping pong ball on fire...I'm sorry, but we did our best.
whatever happens this semester dont let me be that girl yacking in the urinal. again.
I'm tangled in a fishing net down at the harbor. This has nothing to do with Captain Morgan. Bring wirecutters.
I'm at about main and main street
She tried to beat the waitress over the head with a bread stick because one of her martini olives was missing a pimento. All while screaming "IT'S GAMEDAY BITCH"
Olive Garden will never be the same.
I convinced a shit ton of people I was a russian foreign exchange student to get free drinks. I knew learning those accents would come in handy.
The look on the dr's face when she asked me the last time i had sex and i responded "like an hour and a half ago" ... priceless
He went to cum on my stomach and somehow it got behind my ear. He's like a fucking jizz Houdini.
Apparently chalking everything I've done these past 48 hours to the fact that it was homecoming, is like a "get out of jail free" card.
I'm like, not good at living.
I'm sitting here with a band aid on my labia, this is a first
you had me at "meet me in the bathroom"
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