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It must be “Bring in your ugly friend with a mullet for a free appetizer” day at this dining establishment.
Your turkey is in the fridge, wings raised, yelling “Can I get a witness?”
My boner wears a coonskin cap and whistles show tunes at bikers.
This holiday season, give someone a jello mold of your tits. Jiggling jello tits are festive as fuck, man.
Maybe I like my fucking dirty mouth, Orbit gum whore.
A vibrator called Schlong John Silver. Or a dude. I’m flexible.
Marion Barry and Rob Ford walk into a low income housing project…
Don’t let your meat loaf.
A glowing box from amazon appears. You open it to find Robert Plant’s 1970’s thrusting crotch.
Of course my tweets suck. It’s my mental vomit.
NOW I’LL NEVER BE A TEEN MODEL
Funny how no one protests at vasectomy clinics.
I wonder if people in biblical times held their slingshots all sideways gangster like?
When I see weird guys shopping alone at night, I like to toss a box of tampons in their cart to make them appear less lonely at checkout.
Deletes contact. Blocks on IG. Blocks on twitter. Blocks on KIK. Blocks on Voxer. Deletes folder from camera roll. Murder would be easier.
You walk into a room. It’s a sea of Affliction shirts, extra stiff hair gel and white loafers. The door locks suddenly.
Have a bald eagle tattooed on your schmeckle. Buy it a little beak. Let it express itself freely. Freedom. Tiny little beak.
You’re not losing testosterone. Chaz Bono creeps in while you’re sleeping and steals it.
Hell has a serpent with fifteen rows of Osmond teeth.
A Kings of Leon smoke detector that screams
AAAAAAAAYYYYYOOOO YOUR HOUSE IS ON FIRE