how's this sound. You, me a box of pink franzia and a night full of possibilities in your basemen. I'll be me. You be you. And we'll see where it goes
No driving. The car is spinning. I am praying for mcdonalds.
At one point I went looking for you and found you handcuffed to a chair. I'm pretty sure you handcuffed yourself. I don't know how you got there.
I may have farted on a group of children. It may not have been an accident.
If me getting shot doesn't get me pussy I am officially gay
I just don't understand how we smoked the EXACT same thing and I feel fine but Tim's over here serenading his fifth bowl of fruit loops with Elton John's entire discography.
Its like a match made in avoid-eachother-because-we're-antisocial-and-awkward heaven
After we had sex he began to tell me the craziest places he's had sex. He told me KFC bathroom so I rolled over and went to sleep.
Observations from Vegas: #1. Strippers pasties pose a choking hazard. #2. Best. Heimlich. Ever.
If he wants a future he'd best figure out the calendar function on his phone. If he can invite you to his penis he can invite you to his google cal.
“before I show up tits a blazing, what’s the sexual temperature here?“
you said you heard a baby, so i told you to go feed it. you came back 2 hours later with a pizza and when i asked you where the baby went you pointed to the pizza and puked.
He showed up with a hearse full of beer and is currently shooting pumpkins with a flare gun. Who gives a shit if he's a furry. We need to party with him more often.
like, there were so many other better not terrible choices you could have made, so i'm honestly baffled that you managed to fuck up that bad
Fucker was flying a Bruins flag. He can pick up the dog's poop himself.
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