Can I come over?
Can't... I'm at class right now.
No your not
I'm outside by your car.
Nothing too bad. Lost a stuffed horse on a stick and tore my clothes off. Again.
That's the great thing about NY, if you pee your dress you have an entire cab ride to air dry your panties before the next club.
This girl named her kid Rainforrest. If I die, just know it was from laughing so fucking hard.
sometimes when i'm drunk i choose the spanish option on the ATM to challenge myself.
We played "race the Jimmy John's driver". Order, then see if we can finish sex before the food arrives.
Pretty sure i didnt get thrown out cause why dont i have more bloody areas
there were staples in my comforter. what kind of sex did we even have?
I need the number of a restaurant that delivers, has lock-picking abilities, and is okay with full frontal male nudity. Entirely too hungover to get out of bed.
I feel like if Miami and New Jersey fucked each other and produced a baby that would summarize the bar I'm in.
In college, I had one standard. Penis. A lot has changed since then. Now I really only have one standard. Breathing.
I need a "closed for the season, thanks for a great summer" sign for my vagina
I now have a full length bright red cape in my possession. Best sex trophy ever.
I'll pay you back with progressively deviant sexual favors.
my night went from a boring school play to hotboxing a car with 3 criminals
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