He told me he was ok to drive home. Then I found him face-planted in the parking lot.
Taking my final with a coffee mug full of keystone... best semester ever.
But then he started to talk about his wedding he wants and I quote " and yes parts will be choreographed"
There's puke on my pillow. I'm still wearing my wedges. And I have a cab drivers number clutched in my fist.
Just from watching vine I come to conclusion that all pornstars are dog hoarders.
It's like wanting to be a vampire vs being a vampire. You don't know the cock lust until it's infected you.
I say I hate my boss but I find myself jerking off to him more and more with each passing day
In 2009 his now husband dressed in a sailor onesie and heels for pride so he needs to REMEMBER how to party
"Let's do body shots off the freshmen" is officially the worst thing I've ever said.
Last time I "ran into him" I ended up with the clap and had to explain why the ladder was missing from the garage.
I love you but this is the first Saturday I have ever spent at the police station. And where are my boxers?
I'm driving to work hungover. I feel like I got hit by a train and then drank that train too.
I was trying to sext but got a notification that my dad and professor both commented on my Facebook photo. Bad timing.
Well... Chad blew off half of his hand last night. We were able to find most of it.
So I guess I walked across campus with "pat my ass" in sharpie on my forehead.
You deserve it, you colossal cock block.
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