Ever have the mailman look at you like youre a chronic masterbator. I have.
How was the bike ride?
Nope. High in the basement. Fruit cups.
We gave a starfish gin and Lucky Charms. I think it enjoyed it. Best trip to the beach ever.
Things we need. Powerade. Water in fridge. Mixers for vodka. And reality checks.
Did you eat 9 cans of raviolii last night?
Come on man nobody wants to admit that
All right cuz right now I'm in one of those moods where the shear thought of doing anything more strenuous than making a sandwich has me wanting to curl up in the feeble position and splash around in a puddle of my own tears.
Remember when we used to share painkillers at parties? Now we're dealing in blood pressure pills. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
I accidentally KO'd a baby in the airport. Thought you should know.
I think I shall call his penis Gatsby. We talk about it all the time, but I never see it.
I owe a guy a shoe because I threw it over a fence. That is all.
Why do I even exist?
You want to get day drunk this afternoon and watch these guys build a house across the street?
You threw up in a empty pizza box at Pizza Hut and opened the door with your face. So that maybe why it's bruised.
Just keep in mind that she didn't start telling you you had the largest penis she had ever seen until AFTER she found out about your multi-million-dollar trust fund.
I just woke up in his bed.. in a cardboard castle, with a Justin Bieber poster on the ceiling staring down at me, cuddling with 4 empty PBR cans. I win.
What happened lastnight it looks like I had sex with edward scissor hands....my back is so messed up
my bad i broke a mirror over your back
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