I'm going to an arts college, I live next to the frat houses, and my room number is 420. god has plans for me and I couldn't be happier.
Nobody is wearing shirts anymore. What is happening.
I no longer question where these bruises come from... between the strip pole in the living room, the slipnslide in the hallway and our constant level of intoxication I will always be bruised...
My parole officer gave me condoms and a Starbucks gift card ... happy holidays.
Say something like you want him to fuck you behind a McDonald's. Guys secretly love weird shit like that.
The polaroid of me taking a test-tube of Jegar out of the gay guys mouth pretty much explains my trip to Spain.
She literally just puked and rallied AT HER OWN WEDDING. Welcome to White Trash town, America.
You went around chanting "dinosaur period" and drinking tomato soup from the can.
Pretty sure I'm taking the break up well. Alcohol made me okay with it and drugs keep me agreeing with why I dumped him in the first place.
Nothing is better than seeing someone you fucked go to the Olympics. I feel so American.
If I get there and all he has for my big valentines surprise is his body, I'm dumping his ass and posting his dirty pictures on a porn site so people can laugh at him.
Is it rude to ask for an autograph after giving him a blowjob in their hotel's hot tub?
I told him I felt we were at the point where if I saw him talking to another girl, I'd probably choke him out. So I guess you could say things are getting serious.
Don't mind me, I'm just walking 2 miles across campus with no jacket, covered in highlighter, and carrying a hair extension. Gotta love miami!
I just left a 3 minute voicemail to the guy I want to fuck baby talking my cats and I don't know if I can delete it 😐
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