Moan for me like Helen Keller
it was like playing where's waldo with your underwear
I had new employee orientation at the YMCA today. I showed up with a hangover, a black eye, scratches down my arm, and a sore throat from puking gin and keystone.
All I want to do right now is burp, puke, and fart. In that order.
My mom asked me if I was being satisfied, sexually. And then discussed positioning.
Did i throw a brick at someone last night?
I always know the weekend is over when the real license comes out and the fake goes back into the hiding spot.
I can't decide who is the bigger alcoholic: you for opening that bottle of wine just now or me for hearing it in the other room over the air conditioner
Dude, it's the frankincense and myrrh soap. Smelling like baby Jesus will get you laid.
Seriously, dude... You knows its bad when you gag on her nipple.
BTW waking up to a picture of you taking a shot of what I can only assume was shitty lukewarm liquor out of a blow up dolls butt made my day
What I'm trying to say is, that time you chained me to my dresser and made me beg for it was incredibly romantic.
Can I bring home a duck? Dead serious
I hate being near you and not being able to do what I want. It's like a recovering alcoholic tending bar. I feel like Sam Malone. Except I can't bang the cute chick I work with.
I'm at a first year old's birthday party and a midget dressed as a cop just showed up. Word is we're going to toss and bowl with him. Updates to come.
Randomize