So I have to ask... did I meet your lumberjack expectations? I mean, minus the red flannel and all.
So I'm on the can right now reading a court transcript for an appeal. Some dude is paying $155 an hour for me to take a shit.
A guy dressed like Jesus just gave me a mini keg. Prayers really do come true.
Also I think my taxi driver may have just died and we just happen to be on a 35 mph cruise control on 395...
I just replaced the poop spray with an air horn... Now we wait!
Either you got hacked or we need to have a serious discussion about sending penis enlargement emails to your straight friends and why you shouldn't. It sends the wrong message.
Whatever. I am not explaining the physics of my dick slapping.
I wish I got like a congrats basket for being a responsible sexually active member of society complete with condoms, tissues and lollipops.
I had to switch to male Siri because I could feel female Siri voice judging me for reading my sexts out loud. Also, the dude voice keeps me in the mood.
We're friends with benifits... The benifits being I'm fucking her boyfriend
He woke me up holding a gallon of apple juice and a shot glass...
Listening to sad Lana Del Rey songs together is an integral part of the lesbian bonding process
Sometimes i wish my vagina automatically turned itself off when i'm legally drunk.
He tried to throw up into a beer bottle. It was a complete disaster. Vomit went everywhere. It put the Bellagio's fountain to shame.
"I mean like shit happens" should never be an excuse for anything
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