If Ritalin and Plan B had an illegitimate child it would smell like me.
I would invite you but we are high and there is an AK-47. Not your scene.
Ask politely.
Fine. Can i please come over, hang out with you, sit around a campfire, smoke tree, listen to sublime, and fuck the shit out of you?
Thats good enough.
He then proceeded to tell me about his enlarged lymph nodes, his"severe" case of blue balls.
Here. I am here. I do not know where here is but it includes condom balloons, a keg castle, and a shaved goat. Do not find me...I am in post blackout heaven.
After he came all he could say was how great the lighting fixtures where in my apartment.
He's used the term "balls deep" 3 times in the first hour. Thanks a lot, Plenty of Fish.
I command you to take a shot and dance like the pretty little gay boy you are.
Dinner?
YES CON MARGARITAS POR FAVOR!!!! MUCHO MARGARITAS!!!
He'd pee in it. And since it's PBR I'd have no idea
I'm on acid right now in three feet of snow. I NEEEED YOOOOUUUU
Definitely got a blow job in Charles Schwab's bed last night.
I love my job.
I keep getting the feeling him and his friends are hilarious and we should drink whiskey together forever
I think my brain has decided it's boycotting life until it can do whatever it wants.
I’m glad they have a happy marriage but why do they have to inflict it on the rest of us?
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