Rule #1. Nothing comes between you and fantasy sports. Not even a hot chick willing to give you a blow job
I woke up in a house cuddled up with a beagle on a futon. have no idea who anyone is but they all call me stretch. yeaaahhh boiiiiii
Wow. Thanks for becoming another fan of something on Facebook. You make me want to gouge my eyes out.
I should never bitch about not getting laid. He's begging me to come over and I'm saying no because I'm watching a Golden Girls marathon.
My favorite part was walking in the bathroom, you fixing yourself in the mirror, calling your reflection a fag, then throwing a haymaker into the paper towel dispenser before going back out to the bar.
it was like, one of those nights where you keep going back to the fridge because you just can't get full. except, with sex.
since i'm not going, you must continue my tradition of flashing every person there.
I drove 5 hours to see her. She thanked me by getting shitfaced, inviting her boyfriend over, and making me sleep on the couch after I cooked for them and did the dishes. You're right. I'm a fucking doormat.
How did "just two beers for happy hour" turn into naked backyard wrestling?
At least I can pee in a cup like a champ at this point
I have to answer enough questions about you, I don't need your uterus tossed in the conversation.
We work out, have really intense sex, and then eat cereal marketed for children. We have a system, okay?
He cannot be your sugar daddy. He looks like a literal hot dog.
We damn well better have a snow day tomorrow. We just broke out the rum.
I may or may not be drinking in a church parking lot.
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