I'm gonna have bed sores at the end of this hangover.
I'm stuck on the dance floor between two fat people. I don't think they feel my existence. Please help.
We interrupt your regularly scheduled Saturday morning programming with this important announcement: you are not the father. I repeat not the father. Congratulations and have a nice day.
And I was aware of my actions - that is not a penis I will say no to until I have a ring on my finger
I take it that, because we are not guzzling a box of franzia, everything went alright?
To give you an idea, there's a group upstairs trying to break down a door with their fists and heads.
Why is it every time you ask me what I'm doing, I'm at a police station?
That's always how I imagine things at your apartment...
Good, I'm glad you don't have some weird, skewed, clothed version of reality over here.
Tell him "come over but don't bring a flaccid dick"
Wear something tight
Thanks for being my pregnancy scare Sherpa...
Got an egg Mcmuffin combo, and put the hash brown in the sandwich. That level of hungover
I love him about as much as I'd love fucking myself with a cactus.
Worst wingman u don't do ANYTHING but laugh at my incompitant shyness
I cannot pick him out of a line up. I remember he is blonde and his half flaccid dick looks like gonzo. So unless he pulls down his pants I don't know who he is
Mike's letting gay guys do body shots off him again.
My boyfriend, ladies and gentlemen.
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