I hate when laundry day is determined by the number of cum stains on my bed
similar to the time we made up the game of screaming at the top of our lungs any time a guy any of us slept with walked into the party. that went over SO well.
Got one of only two perfect scores in the class on the quiz I took drunk. This is not a good thing for me to have learned about myself.
i made potato chips in weed oil. what did you do today?
that's why you don't digest questionable powders from girls wearing tutus at a dirty club
All I got from that conversation with the officer was "blah blah blah, you're disgusting, blah blah blah, $500 fine, blah blah blah, be in court Tuesday."
The last thing I remember is feeding country fried steak to my best friend in a bubble bath with my bare hands.
Um of course I blew him. He brought me a shamrock shake. It was two o’clock in the morning on St. Patrick’s Day. There was no smoother move basically. He totally earned that head.
after tonight, seriously nothing could taste better than toothpaste
I'm drinking vodka. Get ready for my famous "come over" mass snapchats
Well don't pass out under a Swedish flag and people won't make assumptions
I told him that I wanted his dick like I wanted a jumbo hot dog. There something wrong with my priorities
I should probably just LinkedIn request everyone I've ever slept with so they stop popping up on my suggested connections list
I just got a rock from a customer. Weirdest. Tip. Ever.
He almost got to me tonight but then I was like fuck it I'm going to dance with a teli-tubby on the bar so fuck you
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