I looked at my own cervix.
Conclusion from last night: Sometimes being classy isn't as fun as making out with a guy on a pooltable in a bar. Happy birthday, Canada.
Pregaming class all semester has made this final review session more like my introduction to the topic.
Have fun at school today. Try to hide that you're a whore. The other girls will like you better that way.
Her parents walked in on us. So for my birthday they bought me a blow-up doll with their daughters face on it. I don't know what to think right now.
Sad news: I might have to institute a "once-per-day" policy on getting trashed downtown. Sorry, reputation.
It's because you were crossfaded. And because drinks were 3 dollars. And because they accepted credit cards.
We got three kegs and a backhoe. Now taking bets on what charges we end up getting arrested for. Will need bail money.
Last night we looked at each other with an expression of "fuck I am so done being normal", took off our shirts, and danced around in our bras
Is "you left your socks here, please come get them" a good way of saying "come fuck me?"
By the way, I'm pretty sure your husband is publicly advocating more BJs for my husband, via Facebook.
You started throwing frozen shot glasses at people and you kept saying "it's fine, they melt."
A talk about Arizona woman's rights politics has never turned to sex so quickly before.
I can't believe you cupped pat's balls to prove your fake relationship
I legitimately just had to leave work because I am too hungover. The front office ladies keep making fun of me.
Randomize
