The guy I’ve been paying to pick up poop in my backyard just realized that I don’t own any animals.
I think I finally found your G-Spot. It’s been in my wallet the whole time.
Just overheard the gentleman in the next stall whisper “get out of me” and then start to cry. God I hate the Olive Garden.
If I ever go to prison,
I’m gonna make damn sure everyone knows my street name: Butthole Teeth.
I like to throw a fake punch at a hooker’s crotch. If she flinches, I know it’s a dude.