It's an Italian thing I guess, grew up on that shit.
I'm Irish, we don't eat cow guts unless they're blended into a fine whiskey
I told him I'd give him a BJ if he admited Hanson was good.
I honestly don't know what my boundaries are, but shitting on me is crossing them.
I got kicked out of an open bar wedding reception. The bride "felt threatened" by my presence. Not my fault she's ugly
turkey basters and jungle juice, is that really the whole shopping list for new year's?
I returned her cell phone that I found in the bathroom, I felt the stretcher and the ambulance was enough of a learning experience.
If I were there, I'd be putting a martini in you, via funnel if need be, and you would be doing this thing.
The barista asked if I wanted my drink wet or dry, but all that came to mind was farts. You have ruined me.
Hangover or death. Death. I'll have a slice of death please.
Don't act like you're not jealous that I disappeared into the closet to blow my husband. Marriage = all the cock I want.
Lesson: Never rollerskate with a 40 in your hand unless you have a destination.
As much as I enjoyed playing drunk half naked twister and talking about my daddy issues last time, I'll have to pass.
Mmm. Champagne. Weed. 17 pounds of animal crackers.
Dude, I'm not going to use a butt plug.
You've changed since you got that strap on
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