I just found a frying pan...in my bed.
Silently passing ghastly beer farts as I move around the bridal department at Tiffany's. Call it my contribution to the holiday spirit.
They normally just get fucked up and see who can hold their hand on the exhaust the longest. It's great
I renamed his cat Jeff last night. Well I spray painted it on him.
Perfect. And my grandma just called me and talked to me for eighteen minutes telling me that she was worried because of my Halloween costume that I'm not a Christian and that I'm not eating. Wtf.
The bond between me and cheese is something no man can understand.
Saw a dude last night at a strip club's bar eating canned pineapple and giving tootsie pops to the girls...
I LIKE NICE BOXERS OKAY!? COMBINED WITH A GLORIOUS DICK JUST MAKES THIS EVEN BETTER. WE MOVE IN TOGETHER AND THAT PIC'S GETTIN FUCKING FRAMED.
I don't trust a bar IN TENNESSEE that doesn't have Jack Daniels.
At leat we can cross off 'having sex in a classroom' on our bucket list.
I'm going to reward myself for having sex with coffee and a breakfast burrito.
That's like a fucking falcon or some shit. I don't know birds but I know that is not a bird you fuck with.
Every time I try to do something productive I end up searching ghost porn.
You weren't singing into a microphone in front of an audience. You were screaming into your fist in the check-out aisle in Walmart.
Were we still high when we decided to break your leg?
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