I'm dying. Please wear something slutty to my funeral.
If I were a hot girl. I'd whore around, I'd be awesome.
Don't feel too badly. Until twenty minutes ago my paper was a heading and a pizza order.
im the poster child for why you shouldnt play beer pong with wine.
her roommates boyfriend drunkenly walked in on us banging and said yeeeeaaaaaahhhh and tried to high five me
that awkward moment when your booty call gets snowed in at your place.
I know it's pride week, but your asshole is just never supposed to taste like banana.
I'm pretty sure they had a hash wedding cake. I love college weddings.
Best oral ever, hands down so to speak. but I'm starting to want to meet that lesbian truck driver he says he's better than. Just for comparison purposes of course.
I'm in that weird half-dead, half fucked-simultaneously-in-every-orifice-by-a-bus-and-it-wasn't-a-good-time state.
I ate shit on a rock, and when I got up this car full of people asked me if I was okay, and I just sprinted away screaming "I am a banana!"
And I'm only telling you that because I really wanted to use 'my boyfriend' and 'dick biscuit' in the same sentence.
hell or highwater he WILL get a blowjob in the hammock before the end of summer.
Today's hangover is brought to us by Sailor Jerry's and your dedication to my alcoholism.
not only was there glitter in the toilet after i peed, but there was some on the toilet paper after i wiped. this cant be healthy.
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