Favstar gets even better if you sign in.
I cut my cell phone bill in half, but the lady at Verizon said I might as well tape the two pieces together and pay up. #fb
Remember when getting shagged meant nailing a stringy carpet to your floor instead of just nailing a stringy carpet?
I think it’s backwards. I’d rather be aggressive-passive. Beat someone’s face to a pulp, then walk away like I’m not mad.
There’s a difference between using Tucks and a Clorox Disinfecting Wipe. Perhaps the wife could stop rearranging things in the bathroom. #fb
I’m not ready to come out of the closet. After all, she’s getting undressed in the bedroom, and I don’t want to scare her. #fb
Oldest woman in the world dies. Why does this keep happening?
UK woman washes socks, finds image of Jesus on one of them. Of course, not even Christ knows where the other one is.
Marriage blows. So does my sister in law. I’ve probably said too much. #damagedrightoutofthebox
I’m no longer a complex man. My number of moving parts has diminished over the years.
Study: Women who have more sex look younger. Maybe they have more sex BECAUSE they look younger? #damagedrightoutofthebox
When people say they don't mean it in a bad way, it means they mean it in the worst possible way. They just don't have a thesaurus. #fb
For the longest time I thought being homogeneous meant you were a smart gay person.
People say they share my sense of humor. And that is completely without my permission.
Bacon-flavored sex lubricant now being sold. If your tongue is long enough, you can have it with eggs. #damagedrightoutofthebox
Twitter study suggests that we're all in a crappy mood on Monday afternoons. Well, it's Thursday afternoon, and they can go fuck themselves.
100-year-old man finishes marathon, beats five other runners. Shouldn't the last word of the previous sentence be in quotation marks?
Losing teaches a valuable lesson—that you don’t want to be a loser.
Writer with a personal experiences book: Damaged Right Out Of The Box on http://t.co/dQrTIF7lAy. Well, we all have to have our excuses . . .