You drew a self portrait of yourself on his wall with sharpie.
When I unzipped my pants I said "Release the Cracken"... she dug it so we're getting married soon.
I should do something nice for her. Like sign her up for "What Not To Wear."
Umm. Any where really. Alcohol and boobs. Those are the requirements.
They refer to his house as "the abortion clinic". Cant wait.
I was fine until "Under Pressure" came on the radio. It's like God wanted me to shit my pants on the drive home.
If the cops knock on your door and ask if you saw anyone throw an orange out the window I was never there.
Or maybe my penis is just the key to their locked boxes of crazy, and I unleash their wrath upon all of mankind just so I can get my nut off
Once you mention butt plugs, conversations always take a turn for the worst.
You should kill a bro for me and drag his carcass home so I can study him.
"just because you look like a short version of scarlet johanson does not mean I would immediately fuck you" that was the single.most difficult thing to say. but seriously I don't want the roots of the whore tree anywhere near my junk.
Last time we had an ultimatum like that, things went very far south. I'm down, but it's your turn to wake up in a hospital.
I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I blew a Trump supporter.
Damn. Looks like nobody I know is doing anything interesting. Guess it's another slut-it-up-with-strangers sort of night.
I snuck a teenager into a club last nite, I felt like such a criminal. It was Awsome
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