apparently my drunken alterego is a lazyeyed bisexual.
At the Phils game. My gay buddy just wanted up to a bunch of Mets fans and said "I'm gay, and even I think Mets fans are a bunch of fags." I love this fuckin town.
I know its small, but please -- stop calling it my "weenis".
he needs to stop telling all his friends what my queefs sound like. its getting awkward to be around people who can quote my vagina.
For a second, I wondered if I could smoke pizza.
Yeah apparently i got lonely because everyone was hooking up so i took matters into my own hands. I woke up on the floor spooning a vaccuum cleaner, a mop, 40 paper cups, and industrial grade detergent.
I don't know at least half of his name. I have officially become a statistic.
Well today was Thanksgiving Anti-Miracle Daydrinkathon so I had to be drunk by 2pm
From the prices on this menu it looks like I have no choice. I have to blow him.
He sent me a pic and IT CURVED OUT OF THE PICTURE! Curved. Out. Of. The. Picture.
The fairy wings and cowboy hats were not the issue. The bag of cocaine that I held in the air as we drove in the parade might have been.
My nipple piercings are like the guardrails, that's why they feel so safe.
Send me another check for the tickets. I scratched out "anal wax" and now the bank won't take it.
If your night didn't end with writing a witness report for the cops at a shwarma place, your night was probably less interesting than mine.
Dude. You dropped to your knees and face planted into the rocks. And continued to talk on the phone and laugh. That's where those cuts came from.
Randomize
