I'm texting you the word "cockring" because I feel it hasn't been said enough throughout our friendship.
Ya know what's been the best part of this College Football Season? Not having to hear Brent Musberger say the Honey Badger 77 fucking times.
He stumbled into my room, flopped on my bed, shoes on my pillow and asked me for a juice box. Then fell asleep with the juice box on his forehead.
It's like someone is grabbing my scrodum with pliers and just hanging there.
There is a pile of hair outside the apartment next door. At least now I know what all that shouting was about last night.
Math equation of the day: 4 waffles + 1 bowl of weed = 1 terrific nap
It was the textbook our-balls-touched-while-engaged-in-a-threesome-with-our-bosses-wife conversation.
It amazes and alarms me I'm not shocked to read that.
Note for the future: whiskey syrup is AMAZING on 3am pancakes.
Also, ran into my neighbor across the street. He told me about scheduling his vasectomy. We are officially way beyond the acceptable point for asking his name again.
You know it's time to cut back when your unemployed drug dealer roommate tells you that you party too hard.
Idk. Last year there was an ice luge, glow in the dark jungle juice, and lots of naked people. I feel like I'll get pregnant just thinking about going to that party.
Oh you know, watching its always sunny and petting his cat and NOT fucking. I'm starting my whorefree 2012 resolution early.
I need to stop treating my body like that of a Vegas hooker on vacation in Ibiza
Dude I was taking a shower and I kept looking down at the drain expecting Mario to come up, yell "It's a me, Mario!", tickle my balls, and go back down the drain.