also, made friends with this 75 year old millionaire Tony who likes to mosh. Don't ask.
forecast for tonight is alcohol, low standards and poor decisions.
the truckdriver in the lane next to me just looked down and motorboated in my direction.
Well i then put my mattress in my closet and am currently on it. This is a new one.
Life's too short to consider the larger psychological underpinnings of my lust.
He asked me to grab his balls and yell "thats a spicy meat-a-ball" Last time I do requests.
if theres anything i pride myself on, its my ability to look homeless.
Meanwhile I am sitting on the couch with a 32 ounce rum and coke trying to decide if I'm too drunk to go get french fries.
They are fixing my bike for free, trying to smoke me out, and their kids keep hugging me.
Now I can say "look me up on Pornhub."
Man, I want to make his penis a sandwich.
Update: I may or may not be in a cult
Update #2: I may or may not be the leader of said cult
I've come to the conclusion all of your awkward and complicated male encounters could easily be intercepted by a man town Yankee candle and a vibrator. Sleep on that tell me your thoughts in the morning. Sweet dreams.
You wrote me a check. For zero dollars. For my soul. Dick.
A fair warning: I don't think a cop will let you off the hook just because your birthday is on New Year's Eve
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