dear santa what can i do with your candy cane?
And i was thinking, 'i'm happy to be underneath you, but i wish you weren't doing THAT.'
All I want to do right now is burp, puke, and fart. In that order.
To make up for the snow days we missed he's making us write a paper on alcoholism. It's like he knows.
I queefed so loud it echoed.
It's refreshing to see you in something that is stained with something other than vomit and spilled alcohol.
you are getting stockholm syndrome from your pubes
That's what you said about that spiderman stripper, but look how that turned out
I can't remember much about walking home last night. I think I kicked a dog.
you just knocked on the window of the ambulance and waved at me as we drove away
I should probably just look up vagina pictures in the anatomy textbook. That always cheers me up.
It was like the perfect storm of bad decisions.
I don't really know how to say this, but I have an oven mitt to return to you tomorrow..
If I could sit on this toilet forever I would totally do that right now
the night literally screamed "cock and ball torture"
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