Everything went well, until I walked into his bedroom and there was a Ronald Reagan poster watching over his bed - creepy
i googled "where to have sex in disneyland." i found nothing.
White Russians with skim milk. Fuck I'm healthy.
He doesn't need a wingman, he needs a miracle
I just watched a girl in the library pull a vodka bottle out of her bag. I think I'm going to give her my number.
Remind me never to take that much Vicodin ever again. I laid in bed measuring my heart rate for an hour and a half because I was afraid it would stop.
We blazed in her bathtub. All 5 of us. Not easy bro
I can't even remember the last time I took my own pants off
found a better reason to procrastinate than the usual sunday-don't-give-no-fucks. literally every one of my textbooks is soaked in captain. can't turn a page without gagging.
I'm going home because your Crackraptor step-brother tried getting his nasty meat hawks in my pants last night.
It's the building I live in, they were lucky I was wearing clothes at all
Turns out the bartender I fucked is the bar owner. WHY THE FUCK DO I PAY FOR HALF MY DRINKS? IS SEX NOT TIP ENOUGH?
Dude she passed out on the floor so you covered her with a blanket to make sure "no one would notice her"
And when she started moving around and making noises you told everyone, "it's okay, it's just my roomba under there".......
Does fucking him in the back of the car with the sun roof retracted count as star gazing?
You know you're more responsible when you turn down your bed and make a clear path to it before you go out..
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