I think, one-on-one, Paul Rudd could be very threatening in like a REALLY good way.
He fucked volume into my hair. It was amazing.
I found out his name. Apparently we sat in the shower together and flooded the bathroom.
omg i wish you could see the front of my car.
There's literally a dust print of your body and your arm trying to hold on and the other one where your fingers visibly dragged down the hood.
I just soaked a sugar cookie in nail polish remover to clean off my nails because I was too lazy to walk to the bathroom to get a cotton ball. Is this what rock bottom feels like?
Just keep in mind that she didn't start telling you you had the largest penis she had ever seen until AFTER she found out about your multi-million-dollar trust fund.
I don't know what the bubonic plague feels like- but I'm gonna guess its something like this.
I hid a TracFone in her bra. We'll find her tomorrow.
Dude. I don't even want cuddles. I just want an acknowledgement that I just had balls in my mouth.
Well, I guess you are not meant to have this fucking picture of an adorable baby duck.
I promise not to pretend to be Jesus and take the wheel. But to my credit you shouldn't be saying that while I'm that drunk and we are in a car.
You know you're an upperclassmen when you go to a party with no makeup, wet hair, weed socks, and no shoes, take a shot ski, then leave
You took the receipt and ate it. You then took it out and gave it to the waitress with slobber and holes all over it.
Highlight of the day: got a bunch of drunks to sing baby shark.
I need advice on ways to politely say “fuck you on your way to hell”.
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