It made me feel like I need a reality show of my life so I could go back and watch the episodes to figure out how I got from the trunk of the car to my neighbors tree house...
I really shouldn't have to apologize. It was your own damn fault for opening a tab at the bar and telling me about it.
She said she liked strap-ons.
SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT SHOES, YOU ASSHOLE! YOU'RE THE WORST WINGMAN EVER!
God I hope the gutter I die in is nice. You know, for a gutter.
I'd apply for another job, but "staring out windows crying" is not a hot qualification right now.
You threw a shot glass at the bartender and still managed to convince him to let us drink more. You are my hero.
The worst part was when I went to go spit it out and rinse my mouth, his grandpa was in the bathroom, so I had to fucking wait. It was awful. I finally ran to the kitchen and prayed his parents didn't come out of their room.
Now everytime I sit on a toilet I think about having sex with him. Great.
I've been rehabbing my soul with cheese and wine lately
I need to immerse myself in a tub of peroxide to kill whatever traces of him are on me.
I didn't know how to commemorate his death, so I snorted a fat line off of his obituary. Rest in peace.
I'm at a sex party and there's a guy in an ICP jersey and trip pants. I see now that this is the moment in the movie of my life I recognize I have a problem
Waxing your own asshole is awkward and difficult at best.
Dude you were so wasted you thought a fake electric candle was real and tried to light your cig with it. Multiple times.
I just thought you should know that you should be proud of your dick. It's pretty much perfect. Just, ya know, by the way.
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