So the D.A.R.E. essay I helped my tutor kid write won an award. Oh the irony.
And PS thanks for calling it my "sexual liberation" and not "slut fest 2010: part deux!"
If you ever find a dick that big chop it off and bring it to me.
My dad just decided to play wingman for me... I dont want to let the family down... but both these girls are hideous
when someone at the bar asked you a question all you knew how to say was "chug-a-lug"
After the baby comes, I'll make us White Russians with my breast milk. That will teach her about sharing.
He gave me a card that said "I'm so glad we found each other... In the pants" and a pat on the head... My walk of Shame wasn't so bad.
Someone was asleep on the couch next to us and woke up. We paused and he yelled "gentlemen, behold! Sex!"
We have a vagina exchange agreement. Neither of us can hook up with any of our own law firm's summer associates. So we have a scout and referral program and invite each other to the other firm's summer events. Criss-cross!! Works every summer.
maybe facebook could make a notification like "someone tagged a photo of that guy you used to bang and still think is really hot with his shirt off"
Don't drink and shop. I went for happy hour and came home with a fog machine. I now have no other choice but to scare the shit out of my neighbors with it.
You know darned well I have a well-documented weakness for redheads, Subway and hand-drawn graphic novels.
I'm 4,715,723% sure I don't give a fuck.
I did not get pleasing results from googling “Bob Ross goat”
That confirms what we've all known all along. I'm a bad gay. I have no fashion sense.
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