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.
I just saw a fat chick walking across campus talking to herself and licking her lips. Diet season is scary.
Peanut butter while high is kinda stressful
I think we need to stop being best friends, its not good for our vaginas.
Things I love twice as much when drunk: Taco Bell. Office chairs that roll. Classes.
He asked me to spit in his mouth. I did. Never let me hook up with this guy again.
Dude. The only thing that I use less than my dick is my tennis racket. We need to play.
i officially have over $300 in my bank account. that's a year's worth of chipotle.
Do I have to formally apologize to Brett for flashing him?
You might have been able to redeem yourself had you not referred to grandma as "this bitch".
That explains the hand print on my face. That old lady knows how to throw a punch.
I need to have sex. It's becoming like a matter of public safety.
He offered to take my unemployed self out for drinks, but I really just want him to buy me the Beyoncé album
I need you to ship me a penis cookie care package.
The whole time you were apparently enduring your pukescapades, I was singing very loudly in the car to Beyonce on my way to get a post-coitus Diet Coke.
I was masturbating and a roofer walked past my bedroom window.
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