just tell him he has love handles, he'll die of insecurity
I would blow Magic Johnson for a pack of lucky strikes right now. Post-hiv.
Come on, video tape it. Take one for the team
the bathroom floor of the diner looks a lot different when you're not rolling around and puking on it.
I awoke this morning to a naked boyfriend flying a remote controlled shark around his apartment. This is my life.
Public service announcement: if you would like to continue receiving blow jobs, a 25% increase in fuck-giving will be expected immediately, and you're expected to give an actual flying fuck at least once a week. Brought to you by the ad council.
Things i learned at work today: do not put mayonaise on a tattoo, it will get infected.
I remember having the weirdest thoughts and thinking our room was a compass and we were in the compass or something.
I was telling everyone at the frat that they had to try the "fantastic refreshment" that was everclear, vodka and country time
I was drunk and gave him my dad's phone number instead because somehow I thought that'd be funny. Man did that fucking backfire
My guy issues hinge on tonight's game. Caps win, it's Dustin. Rangers win, Josh. I even flipped a coin to see who got what team
I was lying I actually don't, I hope a reindeer shitted in her bed
And on the 323rd day without sex, God finally said let there be light...or love?
You have GOT to stop kicking in his kitchen door. Just wait for him to open it next time.
Not gonna make it. His stripper neighbors are playing a Super Bowl drinking game that involves removing my clothes
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