So I have to ask... did I meet your lumberjack expectations? I mean, minus the red flannel and all.
i think the bruises are from the grocery store. on separate occasions. i've been spending a lot of time drunk at the market lately.
i have a vague recollection of being in the parking deck around 4 this morning, and on monday morning i was naked on the roof.
that would mean it's on tape
Our relationship just reached the stage where i can touch her boobs while making a honking noise without getting hit in the face
Yeah, he said he was getting "welcome back Winnipeg Jets drunk" then puked on his jersey.
no, throwing your underwear at it is not the solution to everything
I'm off the liquor
You're forefathers are ashamed of you. They didn't struggle to make it to America so that you could become a soft dick
There's a 35% chance I'm still residually drunk from last night.
And you say you're not good with numbers...
Was my shirt on fire at any point last night? Because I'm fairly sure my shirt was on fire.
You tripped over nothing.. everyone stopped what they were doing and stared..you stood up and yelled "you win this time gravity"..then started chugging someone's drink
I woke up with a meat pie in my hand and my mouth tasting like an ashtray. I'm a catch, really!
I don't go out. I live in my room watching Bridget Jones and thanking my vibrator for existing.
Waking up early to fuck the hot DILF the day before Father's Day because I'm respectable like that
This place is a maelstrom of dicks.
I mean as in stuck up bastards, not actual, desirable male genitalia. My point is, come pick me up fast, please!
Why does everyone always assume I'm fucking their boyfriends?
You are fucking her boyfriend.
My roommate has a sixth sense about my jerking off and walks in EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
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