What's wrong?
Long week. Sore muscles. Bad back. Hangover. Mini-keg. Crazy ex-wife. Unavailable love-interest. Dead celebrity families. Republicans.
Pussy.
you were so drunk you slurred your pauses
I just rolled a joint with a page from On The Road by Kerouac. I have never felt like more of a hipster.
you came in and threw goldfish on our blue carpet and screamed SWIM BITCHES and then made me drink a best friends potion with you
a garbage man just dropped off my phone and wallet. he found them in the trash this morning.
After 2 hrs of driving around looking for him, we just found him sleeping in the bed of my truck with the cover closed, cuddling with the spare tire.
and then he publicly announced her herpes on facebook.
I gave up trying to understand them years ago. Now I'm just trying to fuck them.
Trust me man, I did not put any cookies down your pants when you slept.
If I have to give a UPS guy a lap dance, you owe me a drink.
Ew. After that you just pretty much proved that your vagina is the reason why my vagina needs two toilet seat covers when peeing in public restrooms
A picture of a damn cupcake brought back 3 fuckboys
We could never date. He doesn't drink and he won't bring me tacos after sex. He's on that healthy life bullshit.
I mean seriously...It's like the universe is saying "your vagina is closed, move along"
As soon as you told us you were an ostrich with a big penis, we began to wonder what you were on and if you wanted to share.
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