I've replaced the bottom of the food pyramid with alcohol.
I should be nowhere even remotely near facebook in this condition.
The cop only confirmed I'm .22% Irish. Then I threw up on him.
He thinks that since we have been dating six months, that he can do the helicopter with his penis. Not okay.
My "Week Of Not Checking Into OK Cupid So I Don't Hook Up With Another Fat Chick" lasted four hours. On the plus side, she was the smallest one yet.
As far as drugs go, alcohol has all the elegance and precision of hitting yourself in the head with a hammer.
It was like inception, a dream, in a dream, in the back of a dodge charger.
How do you forget making out with a coworker in the dressing room at Sears on more than one occasion?
...object impermanence?
Dude. I don't even want cuddles. I just want an acknowledgement that I just had balls in my mouth.
FUCK the WHO, FUCK cancer, I'm gonna eat fucking bacon.
You have got to be the only man who has passed out while getting a lap dance.
Remember that time you puked in the middle of wendy's?
Yeah, why?
The staff still remembers me for cleaning it up. Thanks for the free frosty and fries
The worst thing about buying this extremely comfortable bed is that once I get a girl into it, all she wants to do is sleep. I want my fucking money back.
WAIT this kid is eating yogurt with a fucking ladle. what is happening?
Thanks for supporting me through Robs retirement. I'm still in shock, but your dick helped.
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