we should go somewhere reaaaaaal shady
Why the fuck was there a shirtless Mexican in my apartment this morning?
I'd like to come home and be able to sleep in a bed that's not filled with crumbs from you getting too high and passing out while eating. This is seriously getting ridiculous.
That's ok. Our relationship has a solid foundation of booze and questionable behavior.
No, no, we have to calibrate. What is the maximum amount of trouble we can get into without going to jail?
I'm sorry. I just realized our 'big night out' ended up being you driving my high ass to get burritos and back.
I'm in a dress, surrounded by Republicans, and the bartender just told me he's "out of Jack Daniels" in a very accusatory tone. Shit, is it only 8 PM?
I feel like the devil is trying to impregnate me through my eyeballs.
I don't know who's more excited for you to come home. Me or my vagina
We're both clumsy. What does this imply for our kids?
Helmets.
I would say I miss her friendship, then I remember that she gave 4 guys the clap. I'm good.
How do I have sand in my vagina if we were an hour away from the beach?
What if for Halloween I paint my self gold and make sandwiches for everyone? I'd be a trophy wife! Get it?
You have got to be the only man who has passed out while getting a lap dance.
I've spent hours masturbating before. It's actually my favorite Sunday activity
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