Woke up in an unfamiliar basement in a sleeping bag with Matt to a police officer shining his flashlight in my eyes and asking me my birth date and social security number. My morning went swimmingly.
Are you pissed because you didn't get action, or the fact i got boned twice in public places tonight?
We're doing kegstands for my 80th Bday, so don't lose that muscle tone.
YOU ARE OBSESSED WITH PORCHES. I AM OBSESSED WITH PORCHES. HOW IS THIS REAL.
So I'm thinking about sending him some "sorry I almost peed on your computer" cookies. Thoughts?
I think this agreement was sent by God. I get to do my own thing, get laid, and he still makes me breakfast in the morning.
His pillow talk sucks. It was like Mr. Roger's vagina.
I'm running on 2 hours of sleep. Just spent 6 minutes staring at the back of my hand thinking: "I don't really know this that well"
Why is our fridge full of girl scout cookies and rum?
You told me to go grocery shopping.
So... I may have accidentally just sat on a strip of a home waxing kit.. naked... Assistance is definitely needed....
Damn victory sex feels great
You tore a poster off a lamppost and ATE IT. That drunk.
YOU'RE NOT THE ONE BEING EVISCERATED BY YOUR OWN UTERUS SO GET SOME DAMN SLEEP YOU FOOL!
Yes please. My parents would fucking love him and I'd love fucking him. That's a win-win if I've ever seen one.
It's nice doing the walk of shame at 530 am, the birds are chirping, campus is empty, and it's dark so noone can see who the Fuck you are
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