So explain to me again how you wake up next to a Brazilian model and I wake up next to a turkey sub? And a jar of grey poupon.
I don't know what's more sad: The fact that he fingered the side of my leg, or the fact that the side of my leg feels like a vagina.
I will show your tits more attention than Michael Jackson's death.
Apparently I was playing rock paper scissors against myself for 2 hours in the bathroom mirror.
I'm pretty sure you can't just waltz into a walk in clinic and ask them to de-baby you.
I got to the point where it seemed like she had 8 giant breasts instead of just two
So the old dude that tried to fight me is definitely Katie's dad. And the pot cookie's kicking in. Shit is getting weird.
Slowly realizing that my only incentive to bathe is shower beer
I don't remember much but I think I'm wearing your underwear, and for that, I am extremely grateful.
Apparently I'm ahead in the foot race to his dick because I'm not insane. If I'd have known that's all it took, I'd have worn sweat pants more often.
Last night you found an onion ring in your fries and then you started singing "A Moment like this"
By early evening I was shouting at the deeply Christian girl to suck my dick inbetween snorting lines of gatorade powder.
I spent last night dying strippers pubes green and landscaping shamrocks. That is why hands look like I squashed a leprechaun.
McDonald's and a car nap. I feel kinda human
So why exactly are your shoes in my freezer?
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