I really don't understand how I cannot figure out how to work a fucking can opener when I'm hungover. Yet I still retained the ability to take a perfectly symmetrical picture of my erect penis and send it to every person in Matt's contacts the night before.
After you took the handle off the bathroom door I had to coach the Scottish guy sitting on the toilet, throwing up in his own lap, how to put his pants back on. Yes, I think he won the drinking game.
Just opened a bottle with my rape whistle. At least it's finally getting used for something.
organizing the empties. That sober.
He asked me if I could call his penis destroyer... Uhh SOS.
i proceeded to stick my hands in his pants while he continued to repeat i have a girlfriend
You better of fucked him last night or do it now because he is buying all the roommates McDonald's.
No it's cool, He's been doing my English papers in exchange for lap dances since the eleventh grade. We're very professional.
I spent part of my valentines extracting candy hearts from a woman's vagina. The entire time I was thinking "this job pays for my Mercedes. This job pays for my Mercedes. This job pays for my Mercedes."
I asked the subway guy how many cookies he thought I could smuggle into the bar. He said it looked like a 6 packer. he was correct
Then you bent down and whispered, "excuse me mr. Stair, could you please stop moving?"
I mean, the night I fell out of that bus I made you pour vodka onto my wound to clean it, then duct taped a paper towel to my hand and kept drinking.
After an orgasm, I always feel the urge to sing A Whole New World from the move Aladdin and I'm not quite sure why.
I'm too picky for internet dating and by picky I mean psycho.
Weird. And pubic lice are now endangered so your hairy balls can rest easy
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