My constant sass comes with one great ass. TSM.

Deliberately responding “who’s this?” even though you know exactly who it is. TSM.

When your biggest problem is running out of monogram stickers. TSM.

He’s the slampiece. TSM.

Your study group meeting at the bars instead of the library. TSTC.

Being known as the “crop top” sorority. TSM.

Pretending to fall asleep on him, as a means to force him to cuddle with you. TSM.

“I love drunk you.” TSM.

“Congrats on winning the election! I’ll see you at your first meeting.” -You, to your new standards chair. TSM.

Cinderella losing her shoe before midnight. TSM.

Mistaking “What’s your number?” for a body count and not your phone number. TSTC.

New year, same bitch. TSM.

The most important thing in a relationship is trust. After sex, and hygiene, and earning potential. TSM.

“Oh, you have officially lost the emoji next to your name, sweetheart.” TSM.

I mean, I’m never not looking for a formal dress. TSM.

Having a hookup set up before you even step foot on campus after winter break. TSM.

Your best friends on Snapchat being the presidents of the top three fraternities. TSM.

They call me “the little sparkly one.” TSM.

I put the “bar” in Barbie. TSM.

I’m basically a bro who likes glitter. TSM.