dude, my own friends sent me home from a party last night. real cool assholes. real cool
IT'S FRIDAY. So quit being a pussy, get out of bed, and come help me drink these 40s. That's not a request.
He's got a wife and three kids but I'm into being that mistake.
I can now tell my grandchildren Central Park has really great spots for quickies...
I like how he had to correct himself in stating that I was the fat one in the threesome.
I'm now drinking beer through a straw. By order of the bartender.
I was having the most awesome dream about onion rings and you hit me and told me to stop touching you...WTF?
I feel like passing out with my foot on your face has bonded us at a very fundamental level.
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).
I got a blowjob dressed with a t shirt sweatpants and a Fanny pack. Not kidding.
Batteries died. I don't care that you're studying for the bar. Come over. Bring the law books and study after. I'll even make coffee.
Because that's what you do with poop. You expect the worst.
I need a "no soliciting" sign for your dick
I got copblocked.
What?
Cockblocked. By a cop. Copblocked.
How ya feelin sunshine?
Like a million dollars! ... That has been hit by a bus, drowned under water and beat repeatedly by a shovel.
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