I'm afraid my bank account can't handle syllabus week.
This does no justice to the amount of paint I'm covered in or the amount of balls I'm tripping.
Remember that foreign guy who never talked last night? He just came out of my bathroom when I woke up.
Either you made a spaghetti vodka smoothie last night, or you puked in the blender.
Talking to a male stripper. About the LSAT. Only in Vegas.
My neighbor caught me peeing on his rose bushes at 2 in the morning while wearing my Santa hat. My sex appeal has never been higher.
Well you know it's going to be an interesting night when the bathroom attendant is doing hail marrys
I cannot believe this. A potential 2016 Olympiad wants my vag. To which I respond "GO FOR THE GOLD"
you have to be that girl in the audience holding up the sign that says i fucked the shit out of you
I want to just live in between your butt cheeks.
I wanted lighthearted conversation about ordering bulk condoms and anal lube but he's depressed and talking about god hating him, ugh
Apparently I told him he would be good for human sacrifice.
I really don't know how I went from having a few drinks to waging war against ghosts in my apartment but here we are
I think the only option is to smoke so much weed I just pass out for 3 days.
I want you to know. From the bottom of my heart, that you are a great friend, a beautiful person, and one of my favorite people in this world. But if you ever send me that many messages again at 4am I swear to God, I will push you in from of a fast running rhino
Steven and I talked about running for office again today. It's fucked that my 3 dream jobs are marijuana bakery owner, bar owner, and president.
Randomize
