What's wrong?
Long week. Sore muscles. Bad back. Hangover. Mini-keg. Crazy ex-wife. Unavailable love-interest. Dead celebrity families. Republicans.
Pussy.
I'm worried someone is gonna take a black light to my work computer. But the connection is faster here.
well. it's seven AM and i'm too high to hula hoop.
Maybe my heart is located in my vagina
in a garage, wearing a toga, theyre debating the logistics of Coke Pong. If I don't make it out of here... it was me who stole your Barbie in the 4th grade- I've never forgiven myself.
you were leaning up against the wall pulling your shirt up asking girls to dance on you. your courage to do that is both admirable and frightening.
Blah blah blah. Just come home and put a baby in me.
Now accepting any stories about my adventures last night, in particular why my knuckles are bleeding.
You thanked your mom for the gymnastic lessons so you could do a keg stand
Last night at the bar you we're seriously going up to people and pushing through them like they were bowling pins and you were a bowling ball
SHE'S PREGNANT AS SHIT, AND I JUSR PEELED A CLEMENTINE TO CHASE SHOTS WITH!! COULD LIFE GET ANY BETTER!?
All of my friends are hooking up and here I am, the lone asexual, looking for someone to eat these tostitos with me.
I got a hand job after work. Remember those? From the 90s...
I woke up saran wrapped to a chair....
My boobs weigh the same amount as 25 pancakes
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