There comes a time in every man's life where he has to shit in a catbox to prove a point.
When we were fucking, you could hear the beer sloshing around in my stomach
school has made you so classy.
that's mcgill. producing sluts since 1884.
I just hotboxed my laundry basket.
How could you not be happy? Its like "and then I found 5 dollars" but "and then I found a handle of vodka"
We left the bar, went to a sex shop, bought penis shotglasses, went back to the bar and insisted that the bartender used them.
Just gave a gay guy pointers on how to make anal not hurt. Reevaluation of life choices: in progress.
I apologize for excluding you. On a better note: the stripper that made out with my wife friend requested me on facebook
I was tackling you out of excitement
Yeah thank goodness the stripper pole was there to break my fall.
I just came so hard there were tears. Actual tears.
That awkward moment when you can't tell what smells like tacos: you, the cat, or the strange guys blanket your so tenderly swaddled in.
Well, I convinced myself I had a sixth toe and then I ripped it off. So I PRAY you're doing better than me.
Please tell your sister I apologize about saying her baby may have beef curtains. That was inappropriate.
He said we had an hour long conversation about how awesome I was.
He said it was the classiest hand job he ever had because my nails were painted red. We need to go to nicer bars from now on.
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