There is something about listening to Patsy Cline while pooping that makes the experience so much better.
you announced to the whole room that instead of shaving you were planning to start straightening and then braiding your pubes. awkward silence followed by everyone leaving.
All I know is it had something to do with a plunger and tuna salad. I'm done. I'm quitting my job.
Exactly. All of us sinners go to hell and get nothing while all of the goody two shoes get to go to heaven where its all pink floyd, lasers, and pot.
Instead of just putting in it he asked "will you do the honors?" it was the cutest thing I had ever heard before sex.
It was beyond pathetic. You yelled her name at every blonde chick we saw hoping it would be her. Then you puked your corn dog
We're playing fucking games. GAMES. THIS IS BULL SHIT. IM GOING TO THROW UP ON THE BABIES AND LEAVE.
You were running around yelling "BUKAKE!" and squirting people with a shampoo bottle you found. Total shitshow.
No I got myself stoned. With her bowl. She was just a casualty of the War on Sobriety.
Whatever, I used my iphone to send an Escalade to pick up a booty call last week. For free. It is futuristic as fuck out here.
That awkward moment when you hear your boss yelling during sex while you're on her couch eating Easy Mac.
I only have sex with you to have a memory to masturbate to.
You were telling everyone in the bar that Jess gave you scurvy.
Greetings from Florida; the armpit of the US, where my 240something lb brother nearly got carried away by some aggressive woodland mosquitoes. I was only spared because they could probably sense I was currently semi-disassociating and would not feel the suffering their presence wrought.
Anyway, how was your day?
His wife found the thong I “forgot” in his glovebox
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