My dad just called from upstairs on the house phone to tell me to bring him a beer. You tell me how I am.
Hey. Be honored that I consider you the genital expert. I know alot of candidates for the position.
You just seemed really offended whenever my cup was empty.
You said your legs stopped working and then pulled yourself around the floor with your hands.
That explains the wood chips stuck in my nipples.
My dad wants to dress like mitt Romney tomorrow night and tell trick or treaters they owe him candy.
I swear I can't go out anymore. It's like he put a GPS in my dick. I don't know if I should feel awkward or proud...
Dear god. Please. Please do NOT deprive yourself of dick for 90 days. Blood will spill. Wolverines will howl. I can't handle that kind of terror.
In other news there is a guy at my office who I'm pretty sure will be wearing someone's skin as a coat one day.
I don't want to flatter myself but after the way he was looking at me today I think it might be me.
I just sent a bad sext to my sister. There's not even a way to damage control this, is there?
No like you've drunkenly persistently tried to take your shirt off in the middle of a park filled with children. You had already thrown your bra at my crotch.
I'm willing to share. He can have sloppy seconds.
He's ready to settle down, whereas I'm like "More shots please"
Ya know what's the worst? Being drunk and wanting to show someone a picture of your goddaughter but not wanting to open the pictures on your phone because the first one is of someone's dick..
Apparently the cops had to handcuff me in order to get me to come with to the hospital with them. They asked me if I had had any experience with handcuffs before and I replied, "Only in bed." What a life
you said it was a life or death situation, being your partner for beer pong doesn't count
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