dude chill. it wont be anything like your seventh grade birthday party.
ohhhh fuckk. chicks a dude.
I wouldn't necessarily call it an addiction, more of a passion. I'm habitually passionate.
My roommate got wasted last night and went to the 24 hour Bally's Total Fitness at 3 A.M. He got back took his shirt off, made a protein shake, puked, asked me if he was almost as jacked as Ronnie Coleman then called ME gay before I could say anything and went to bed
She has 260 profile pics. In 260 she's ugly and in 255, she's making the peace sign with her hands...
Some kid just walked into class with his schedlue written on a keystone box.
You think they'd ask my permission before turning Pajamarama into an orgy. I saw too many of my friends dicks at once the door got kicked down.
Kid sitting next to me smells like he slept in a dutch oven full of farts. Going to die.
He got punched in the face, dropped his laptop down a flight of stairs, and broke his roommate's lava lamp, getting all the toxic lava goo everywhere. This is why we don't let him get drunk. And yet here we are.
I'm all about sex. But even I know there will be a time to retire my junk. And that will be my 40th birthday, or whenever I'm hideous
I almost itched my nose with the lit end of a cigarette. Help.
I no longer exist. I have transformed into a puddle of sex.
And the next morning he asked me why I had clothes on so I said so that he could take them off again.
She told me she brought a guy home but that he looked pickled. And no, that's not an autocorrect.
Hahahah pickled
I asked her what she meant and she said that he looked like he had soaked in water.
I had 2 shots but she spilt one on me. Kinda mad but kinda grateful
Randomize