We planned for the zombie apocalypse. In great detail. Of course there was booze involved.
4pm on a Sunday....roomate fucking like a wildabeast while I have a organic chemistry study group in my kitchen.
She said she wanted to have closure sex.
It would only make sense that I'd cheat on him with his best friend on the ides of march...
Me. blonde. Sex. Dance floor.
ok is that genuinely the first four bars of mozart's symphony #40 sharpied onto my arm or
I promised myself in the hospital that I would give up drinking for however long the cast stayed on. Thank god it was only soft tissue and not a fracture.
I'm texting an actual stripper. A male stripper. I dont wanna talk about it yet
Shut the fuck up. It's not the end of the world. Now come get your asshole bleached with me or we're not roommates anymore.
Have fun in Vegas! Be safe, use condoms, and take a pic of Jon beforehand to give out when he goes missing. It will help the police.
My previously white toilet seat is now hot pink. I'm not sure why or how but I know it's your fault.
I better get weekly incoherent text messages or I will assume something is wrong.
I cant miss out on a half day of work without a booty call
should i feel bad about fucking you on my front lawn the day before you set me up with your best friend?
And you tried to get me to have sex with you in our Harry potter closet lol
Randomize
