I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
guess they didn't have any donuts in her size.
Out of ice. Vodka+club soda+cut up lime popscicle=I'm an alcoholic genius.
And I'm PMSing. So if I'm not crying, I'm masturbating.
Just did my hair and make up at mcdonalds so we're in the same boat.
I just saw a group of 50+ year old women all wearing shirts that said "drink up, bitches" ...please tell me that can be us some day.
We have 10 gallons of home brew. And james has an amazonian blow dart weapon that sticks in bags and the wall. Come over
FYI If I die in my sleep it is because I drank a bottle of coke from 1986. I needed a mixer
Okay. I am working on pulling a tooth out of my mouth. Call me.
Only at Harvard can you walk in on a bunch of stoners and expect everyone to immediately stand up, shake your hand and introduce themselves like we're at a fucking job fair
Do you think next time you could control the yawn? Kind of a buzzkill to be mid-orgasm and see you yawning over there.
Whatever. That's why I am to be babied like a calf. I regret nothing.
Hooray! My email address wasn't leaked by Ashley Madison!
I will chop off your penis
I sharted in my christmas pjs :(
It's going to turn into you and me throwing down in a devastating lip-synch battle while everyone else stands around awkwardly.
Randomize
