After waking up today, I would like to find the Jesus preachers on campus to ask for help in asking for forgiveness to God.
So there's dick imprints in the peanut butter
i officially have more pictures of his dick than pictures of us together
I don't care how hot he got, I can't get past the PTSD flashbacks of the first time he fingered me
whatever. as long as im no longer referred to as the girl who fucked the pledge on his big brother's couch.
The beers last night were like the tears from god
I was stumbling so much, men walking behind us were shouting "don't hit the pole! don't hit the pole!" whenever I was near a telephone pole.
When I say drunk I mean that in the process of filming a fratstar cooking show they threw a keg into the street where the police came to clean it up. now all they can say is "THE KEG GOT ARRESTED."
I tried to stop that, but then I pulled the leaves out of my panties and went to sleep.
You need to get laid. You spent last night stumbling through the club pulling couples apart and telling them to leave room for Jesus.
How long have I been using my debit card as a coaster?
You ran out of his house yelling "I got the goods!" Then you pulled toilet paper rolls out from under your shirt.
i asked my neighbor to open a bottle of vodka once and then we slept together
Swiping left on your brother's Tinder account is possibly the worst way to learn he broke up with his girlfriend.
How ironic... opening your legs for closure.
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