Decided to write a book called "girls don't poop and other myths I wish I still believed in"
He told me I took off my shirt, asked for the latino thunder and jumped on him. I want to question this but it sounds too much like me.
You paid the taxi driver with a comb last night.
well the hot one passed out so thats that, but then the fat one made chicken nuggets....totally worth it
This girl would not stay down. It was like night of the living dead. She kept on rising up to haunt anything with a penis
Wait wait wait. I remember riding in her car to the next bar. On your lap. With my head on the dashboard. That probably should have been my cut off point.
I mean I drunk but not enough to handle a Scientology convention
All I wanted was a hug. You dirty, dirty whore.
Just had ice cream and a blow job come together in one glorious, defining moment.
Just realized I used a picture of my little sister to holler at a guy, only 3 months old and she's already my wingman.
Did you take the bag w/your drugs & cookie cutter?
not sure what the chiropractor did but my junk deserves a cape now.
...and with one comment dissing Hannibal Lecter, I suddenly understood why we never worked out.
You weren't singing into a microphone in front of an audience. You were screaming into your fist in the check-out aisle in Walmart.
Well when I woke up this morning I didn’t think I’d be masturbating to my own LinkedIn profile today but here we are
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