he kept farting in my kitchen and blaming it on the dog. then we went to wendy's and he spent twenty minutes in the bathroom. im pretty sure he shit his pants.
you should have known when you found out he drove a mini cooper not to hang out with him.
you kept trying to convince me i had aids because my head hurt
There's nothing like puking in the airport on the way TO Vegas. Something tells me i pregamed a little too hard.
my mouth is as dry as a post-menopausal camel on antidepressant's vagina.
I was fine until "Under Pressure" came on the radio. It's like God wanted me to shit my pants on the drive home.
At a party. It smells like teen pregnancy and sadness in here.
I don't mean to ruin your favorite Disney movie...but...we both came when Mufasa died.
I was basically shocked at how calmly you accepted my violently shoving a french fry in your mouth.
His name is Dustib. Not a typo. I just can't.
As the cops are taking us away I see the strippers taking our DD backstage.
Just shaved my crotch so I could call it the bald eagle. Happy 4th.
Exactly man. Who needs doctors when you have vodka and hot knives.
Wedding party came into the bar an hour ago. Mother of the bride is a stage five clinger. send help.
THE STRIPPER HAD A GUN JOHN!
It's hard to talk dirty with a mouth full of peanut butter
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