Heard someone talking about their "O" face. Immediately assumed they meant Oreos and chimed in proclaiming my love for double-stuffed. What?
While sitting on the couch with my wife rhythmically flipping through channels, I hope that extra 3 second pause on boobs isn't noticeable.
Reminder to myself: Just because they’re called “Tramp Stamps” doesn’t mean you can lick ‘em.
I want a massage, so I'm going to tape scratch-offs to my back to lure in some unsuspecting gas station vagrants.
I started setting up my Google+ account this weekend. I think it's cute how Google plays dumb and asks me to fill in my personal information.
How pissed do you think homeless people get when the song "Mo Money, Mo Problems" comes on?
You can make your fat friend exercise by changing his cell phone ring to the sound of an approaching ice cream truck.