I have a story that starts with Nutella and ends with sex in the laundry building at RIT.
It's like playing clue with my own life. I have to piece together what I did, where I was, how I did it, and who I did it to
Not sure if it is a new high or new low, but i left a basket on the porch of the sorority I woke up at. It had a description of the Minnie Mouse I woke up next to, and Plan B.
she found out just an hour ago that she might have cervical cancer. either way we're watching 50/50 and taking a shot of patron anytime anyone says cancer.
NO I FORBID YOU. THERE ARE BETTER VIRGINITIES OUT THERE WORTH KIDNAPPING.
The problem with Wednesday evening drinking is that no gets to my level. It's like like a one man party. But it's a goood party.
Feel like I died but someone put me In a human microwave and I got back to life.
The ranger made you choose between a ticket and pouring all the beer out since it was a state park.
I've never seen you that close to tears as you poured out 30 beers.
Just asked my roommate if she needs one of my old pill bottles to hold her weed during our move tomorrow. What has grad school done to me?
walk of shamed to graduation. ending college with a bang....
Fall is here I will miss walking downtown in nothing but paint and pasties
with the way the semester is going, being a stripper is starting to sound better and better everyday
They offered me pot brownies in 7 minutes flat. Imagine my horror when I had to be like, are those gluten free?
Lynn just told me "I heard about your divorce. Condoms or morning pill your choice and I'm buying". Sorry but I got plans now bro.
I can't wait to see you & have espresso-fueled sex
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