Joe is yelling at the trees again.
if you google earth my address you can see me getting out of my car. finally my moment of being famous
I had to use the resin knife to take the staples out of my tax return forms. Tax returns and a search warrant?
There are fucking limits. Jerking another guy off in the bar toes the line.
Last I remember we played rock paper scissors for who would fuck the guy with cowboy boots on and I won..
I don't feel bad about fucking old guys. That's what I want. It's what I likeeeeee.
It isn't possible and the very mindfuck of that concept gives me a lady boner.
I hate it when the guy who runs the chicken and waffles truck is convinced that I run a cult.
that is the opposite of a normal text message.
So this is what you do on your hungover days off put your balls into an egg carton?
By 11 pm the pants were off and there was no turning back. But on the bright side, you promised me your CDs when you died, you even signed a napkin saying so.
Oh jesus...leave it to you to hit on not one but two guys who can't fuck you till marriage.
The fact that you walked around talking like Barbie and still got laid amazes me.
I'm gonna be the best dressed mother fucker to ever get kicked out of that damn bar.
On a scale of 1 to alcoholic in withdrawal how ready will you be to start drinking as soon as you arrive on campus?
After 25 beers and 3 shots my best friend thought it would be an amazing idea to get his dick pierced. We are on our way.
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