I wish i could make my toaster dance like they do in the second ghostbusters. But i dont have ectoplasmic goo. Or a toaster.
I woke up with my 26er down my pants and a peice of paper stuck to my forehead with gum that said "tell it to the greek goddess beside me"
he asked me if i had ever jacked off high and then referred to it as a "man-to-man question"
your suggestions for charades were, getting sucked into an aircraft turbine, getting raped by a dolphin, and having sex with a vacuum cleaner. you got your own, and actually used a vacuum cleaner as a prop.
Oh please. You given/recieved a handjob out in public. I think that shy ship has sailed.
I just saw a girl walk by me wearing a "kiss me I'm pro choice" shirt. Is that a signal for easy access?
the orgasm was like being thrown to the other end of reality, so getting a nosebleed from it wasnt too upsetting at that point
the australian girl literally just drank an entire pitcher of beer in about twenty seconds. i want to go to there.
I've also hijacked your can opener. Sadly not for the same sexual reason as the muddler.
Did you write your name in the dust on our toilet tank?
Yeah... I was considering changing that part but the boxed wine is non-negotiable.
I'd bet your vomit would be flammable at this point. Can I try to light it?
We wouldn't be friends if you didn't.
Hahahahaha. That's what your stoned ass gets for eating half a bag of processed cheese at 2am.
Well just give me the address, I'll bring the bourbon. If they let that into mental institutions
Also—I just realized that your wedding gift is still on my dining room table. So...as awful as I am for not yet sending it (and I still need your address), at least I didn’t bring my screaming children to potentially the most important day of your life?
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