My Higher Power is John Stamos
I just tried to put my feet in my slippers and found cans of beer in them. Christmas in fucking july.
I just had a 2 1/2 hr conversation about the pros and cons of taping your ballsack to your taint, which then led into the unveilling of lady gaga being a hermaphrodite.
I love you. And by the way. I found out a way for you to train your gag reflex. Elliot taught us in math.
I'm at taco bell and they have a hiring sign asking "do you like to melt things?" clearly they only want the ambitious.
He was pretty out of it. He heard crickets outside, and thought it was the laptop. So he put his ear to it, rubbed the keyboard, and said "tell me your secrets."
What I thought it would be sexy pouring melted chocolate down here chest, ended up in second degree burns. Hot food and sex do not mix.
Please don't be alarmed by the blood on my arms and phone in the morning. It's not mine.
I'm going to start referring to my liver is Livy. I feel like if I give it an affectionate nickname it will hate me less. Livy isn't ready for syllabus week.
I think we all know your liver needs a man's name.
So I'm guessing that puking on a camper is a straight path to instant termination?
And the next morning he asked me why I had clothes on so I said so that he could take them off again.
I just put vodka in my apple sauce. Spice up your fucking life.
I really don’t want to have kids.
I thought we agreed we were done with dirty talk for the day
I mean, if you want to light yourself on fire for maximum accuracy, far be it from me to stop you
momentary stint on a second floor library computer...guy next to me snorted blue adderall off his notebook through a cut straw, i cant tell if this guy is my hero or just plain crazy...
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