I've been reduced to Capt. Morgan and Golden Girls reruns. Ugh.
Dude it was weird. The strippers vagina tasted kind of like your mother's.
You walked in on me taking a shit and told me to hit the bong
yea, there's something about a stripper whipping you with your own belt that makes you think
YOU NEED TO STOP BLOWING DUDES ON MY COUCH AT MY PARTIES
YOU NEED TO STOP PROVIDING TEQUILA AT YOUR PARTIES
OH HAPPY DAYS YOU'RE BOTH GINGERS YOU'LL REPRODUCE YOUR OWN KIND
You and the dog were competed for the water dish
you ate the make a wish sign. Like actually chewed on it. It was our solution to going outside when the cops were there
I refused to call him anything but Drake eyebrows all night.
The night went downhill when he took his pants off at our table and walked up to women saying "Special delivery"
She deliberately backed into the homewrecker's whoremobile and yelled ""FOR SPARTA!"
Observations from Vegas: #1. Strippers pasties pose a choking hazard. #2. Best. Heimlich. Ever.
He's petting your head, we need to leave now.
Sex in the backyard? Check.
Why would you ask him if you could lick his chest?
He has a very lickable chest
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