Roman Polanski is more welcome at my daughter's birthday party than you are at that bar
I closed that bar. Sang every Beatles song in the book. Made Somoan friends.
we were all standing in the kitchen taking shots and we look over at you and your face is in the plate of spaghetti you were eating.
My new apartment is within walking distance of both the liquor store and the chinese buffet. This is either going to be my worst life choice ever or my best.
She punched my vomit. In midair. Back into my mouth.
We removed her tutu and her cape, so there's no risk of her strangling herself.
There are pictures of you on the shoulders of some old guy dressed as borat
You're fucking beautiful as shit and we should have loving sex...
It's a "nonproductive" (vocab word) cough. It's like a constant tickle in my throat, like there's a little elf with feathers for feet going Gangnam style on my "uvula" (vocab word).
The sex was so bad. I kept sending people snapchats of my face during it.
I don't want random pictures of your morning wood. It's like, what a glorious morning oh a penis.
They came over the loud speaker and said "no laying on the dance floor.." I thought i was dancing, but apparently that's just the way it started out.
She said to me, without hesitation, "make me an offer better than my sugar daddy and I'll go with you"
Is a swingers hotel appropriate for an anniversary?
I just found out how I got home last night. The bartenders found me sitting in the brush peeing and called me a cab. Have you seen my underwear?
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