"Oh, really... you're eighteen? Great... why don't you grab your Hello Kitty backpack and get into my truck?"
"Why should I wear a condom? It's not like I'll be going back to Tijuana for a while."
"Another beer? Sure! I only have to drive about 10 miles, anyway."
"Excuse me, waitress, I know I'm having dinner with a girl, but can I get your number before she comes back from the bathroom?"
"You want to borrow how much? Let me get my checkbook."
"I think I need to do something different with my hair."
"No, really... I like going to plays."
"Your boyfriend/my friend is out of town and you want to have a drink... with me? Sure!"
"Hey, I really like you; you're fun to talk to and very pretty. You want to go out sometime? Oh, by the way I've got a website you should check out... I write about things like sex with underage girls, drinking too much, and jerking off to the Spanish Channel. Oh, sure... I think your parents would like it, too."
My only saving grace would be if the remote control to the shock collar drained the batteries. The way I've been behaving lately it would only take about two hours before my "keeper" would have to change the batteries in the shock-collar remote.
Most recent comment about this site: "I can't tell if you're joking or not."
It's all one big joke. It's like stand up comedy, except it should be called pass-out comedy, because I pass out a lot and it's sort of funny. Get me the number to St. Ides Brewery. CLICK HERE TO FLASH BACK TO WHEN I ONLY WROTE ABOUT DRINKING TOO MUCH.
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