long story short: there's a file in the master file cabinet labeled "lube".
Going to get yelled at but I labeled the reel "four dried up sluts decide going to the middle east to shop during a war is the best idea ever"
Of course it's dangerous. Why else would they hire us after we failed the drug test?
Nothing like cleaning dried puke off your floor to make you feel like you've failed as an adult.
where are you?
talk to ya later, gotta sled down these stairs real quick
I think this agreement was sent by God. I get to do my own thing, get laid, and he still makes me breakfast in the morning.
Except if I'm having sex. In which case you're in the bed with us or out of the room. No halfsie participation.
My mom is currently out with her lesbian friends and I'm home alone drunk listening to the Les Miserables soundtrack. WHY DO I FEEL THE NEED TO COMPETE WITH HER?
Watching a bear prancing around in a tiara is worth a loss of bar time.
He said I could stop sending ass pics now and just say hello. I'm not sure if that means he's no longer interested, or that he's a gentleman??
So basically he is jobless, a potential serial killer, and has poor taste in music? We simply don't have time for that.
Worse. He's Mormon. At least a gay guy will go get drinks with me.
while on the topic of showers...why is there apple juice in our bathtub?
Just slather his penis with BBQ sauce
I'm on a walk of shame carrying YOUR pants. You owe me.
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