I'm gonna write a book, Things that go bump in the night: The story of Katelyn. Chapter one, my roommate is a dumb whore.
Ok...drunk girls at the bar are charging $1 for motorboating. It's fucking WEDNESDAY. I never want to leave.
I didn't know how to tell her I was too busy getting stoned and making a baked potato to meet up and finish our group project.
Sorry my moustache came off because I was face first in a layered bucket full of jello shots.
my goal was to make out with as many people dressed as batman as possible. I have my priorities.
fuck your need to drink for whitney a thousand times last night.
There's a certain feeling that only comes from wearing pearls to hide hickeys
I was hooking up with this girl last night and she's on top of me with "Flux Pavilion - I can't stop" grinding in the background and I thought "Holy shit I'm going to do a lot of Molly this semester."
He tried to introduce me to one of his friends that kept looking at me and I said "OH NO! I can't do this shit anymore!!" It was like I had a vision of what drunk me would've done in about 20 minutes.
He came inside and met my grandmother after we had sex in the driveway. I love that he has a van.
I got arrested FOR running from the cops. In college Dad got arrested and THEN ran from the cops. So it could be worse.
sexting just seems like too much work right now.
I mean, drunk me really liked him, maybe sober me will too. Who am I to deny fate?
I have blood and BBQ sauce all over my shirt. I blame you for the blood.
He’s like an awkward walking penis that has a personality attached
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