My kitchen smells like failed pina coladas.
God dammit. Now I'm pissed at Arizona, while feeling bad for my poor, poor penis.
so we were having anal, both very very drunk when he started shouting his roomates name
you're acting like its my fault you're allergic to sperm or something.
i told you we never speak of that again
he called me from germany to tell me about all the gummy bears he bought...i'm doubting his sobriety
No it's ok. I made friends with the guy that always wears helmets to the bar. His name is helmet Harry
If there was a saddle on his sack, she would ride it.
If I puke off the kayak tomorrow think nothing of it.
I almost lit my balls on fire tonight.
That's why we don't trade sex for Taco Bell. It's called the dollar menu.
Can I come take down that wallpaper yet? I stopped seeing that dude and I need to occupy my time with something besides getting drunk at bingo night and cussing out old people. Also, i'm not sure on the legal stipulations but I might have, unintentionally, committed grand theft auto at some point.
I'm in the line at Chipotle thinking: "What combo will best prepare my body for the open bar I'm going to subject it to tonight?"
Hey, don't blame me for the shitty evening; I wasn't the one who promised hookers, Dos Equis and foster kittens. Keith was.
Good news, finally found someone who remembers Saturday night. Bad news, everyone in the bar saw your penis
So congratulations, your penis has now sent me to urgent care not once, but twice!
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