I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
On my way, I hope you have alcohol for me to blame stuff on...
you ever get that eerie feeling when you walk in a room, when you know youve barfed here before.
He just slept in my bed for a couple hours and asked lots of questions about gay sex. No, I do not have his number.
Some guy stole lobsters by hiding them in his pants. We should strive to be like him.
they would be such cute babies and they would grow up to have huge dicks. and that would make me proud as a mother
She said she'd heard about my nickname in high school. Apparently sledgehammer isn't as popular as you'd believe...
new costume idea. paint swatches and a ball gag... I'll be 50 shades of grey.
He stopped in the middle of having sex to ask me what shampoo I use. Apparently my hair smelled good
He's pretty cool once you ignore the fact that he's trying to get into your pants
All I remember about last st pattys day was I was in a bathtub with full bubbles, fully clothed, drinking out of a flamingo lawn ornament that someone cut a hole in.
whenever i get involved w someone i'm gonna give you their number to testify to the fact that they should not fall in love with me
She just kept feeding people pretzels and sayying "You're such a good goldfish."
Long story short I shit on a sidewalk while walking with multiple people. Then sprinted around the streets of Tallahassee in only gym shorts as I tore my toga off and wore it as a cape.
My mom just woke me up with a cowboy hat and sunglasses on. It's 7 am and she's drunk.
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