This is some kinda fucked up sordid doggy brothel peepshow bullshit.
I'm drinking till I'm someone else's problem
Right now, my father is sitting on the couch, totally smashed, crying, eating pringles, and watching the credits of Transformers 2. Love him.
His penis is literally smaller than my cell phone. I can't go out like that.
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There is no way I am paying you $5 apiece for pot brownies you found behind a dumpster. $2, maybe.
What are you talking about?! I shot gunned a monster while simaltaneously blowing gym boy Todd. If I'm not the poster child for being well rounded and versatile I have no idea what NYU is looking for
I succsesfully kept my nipples in my dress all night. Even when I got in a fight. I was made for the bar.
She just kept saying "bless your heart" to him while he cried because he came so fast. I think a Texas woman was just what he needed
I'm responsible for my client's overall well-being. Which is terrifying coming from someone that can't stop masturbating and eats leftover pizza just about everyday.
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Why is there no Netflix category for "I just wanna cry, but I don't have time for a whole romcom"?
I tried to light my cup as a bong. I'm done drinking
So, I never imagined myself puking on the side of the road at 10:30 this morning to Lynyrd Skynyrd but here I am.
Coffee and girl scout cookies. Breakfast of champions.
Get fucked.
Saw my doctor at the bar. He bought me a drink. I think he was looking up my medical record on his phone because he suddenly had to go. syphilis continues to fuck with my life
You know how fear has a smell? Well turns out shame has a smell too. It's Pina colada flavored anal grease.
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