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I rearranged the living room around my phone charger. Dedication.
I'm going to take everything I read on here literally. Because you all seem trustworthy. Hi friends.
I'll park next to a speed bump just to watch boobs bounce.
If you want a body like a 20yr old you gotta eat like a 20yr old. *Dips Doritos into Mt.Dew*
I'll check your TL before I check mine.
Proper stalker etiquette.
Wife: you should tweet a pic of dinner.
Me: that's not what twitter is for
W: well, maybe I'll start an account
M: I'll post a pic.
I'm just a man. Sitting in a truck. Playing on my phone. Wearing control top panty hose. Still just a man.
My first bike had a banana seat.
That's how my autobiography will start.
Sorry! I may have sent some of you a Dick pic by accident. DM me if you didn't get one.
Counting the amount of empty beer bottles laying around, I'm going to say it's Thursday and I'm 4 days late for work.
I'm gone for 2 hours and look at my TL! You, put your pants back on! You over there, get that out of your mouth! What's burning!?!
*Phone rings. Its Life.
Casually Swypes decline.
"Not today" I whisper.
"Its BS that my TC is spending the weekend with her boyfriend"
-Me, to my wife.
Farts in Walmart. Nobody notices.
Me: What's for dinner?
Wife: Black Eyed Peas.
M: Will I Am hungry.
M: You don't get it do you?
Your mid life crisis isn't going to tweet itself.
Typo is my second language.
Another 3 months of eating corndogs and I'll have enough sticks to build a futon.
I drew tiny lips on my thumb so it can kiss your avi while scrolling your timeline.
Sometimes I'll star your tweet because I like it. Sometimes I'll star your tweet just to let you know i'm thinking about you.
Now with 20% more beard. Weirdos only.
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