Who the hell brings a 6pack to a party. I'm trying to make mistakes.
She was that classic mixture between "Hell no" and "Why the fuck not."
He took me to the bathroom in the gay bar to "just cuddle." Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...well...
The homeless guy out front said it's his birthday and he asked us to join him for happy hour after work. He's buying a fifth of gin to celebrate.
If it's any consolation, I've been sitting in the hallway in assless chaps for the past thirty minutes
I kind of drew a blank when the doctor asked me how I got super glue up my nose.
I seriously don't understand how you keep getting laid.
Because I'm like the spider of false hope. I spin elaborate tales and snare them in my web of utter disappointment. They soon realize their mistake, but by then it's too late.
Nothing like coming home and finding the nearly full bottle of fireball you forgot you had stashed before your trip
It's the little things
I just had sex with the male version of myself. looks, mindset, even our boob to dick ratio was the same
I ate breakfast with him. And by ate breakfast I mean we fucked on the kitchen table.
Too bad, iambic pentameter is a drunk specialty of mine.
We drove through Taco-Bell on our way to the ER
I just want him to get into an accident where he's horribly disfigured but otherwise fine so he's not so freaking handsome
All I can taste is Pickle Juice and Cocaine.
I've been getting a lot of emails from patron lately for being a great customer. Is that awesome, or should I start thinking about seeking help?
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