You know me. The talking and the fucking go hand in hand.
Okay, so not only are you a cadaverous lay, you also have a shitty taste in movies.
Do whatever you have to do. Beg, plead, cry. Get down on bended knee. ’cause I’m telling you, no amount of top-shelf pussy can compete with the love of a good woman.
For a radical environmentalist such as yourself, this whole evening must have given you a clit-boner.
Why would I wanna get to know a guy who’s so in love with himself that he hangs out in a bookstore reading his own work.
That’s the kind of bling you like, right? Dead people’s jewelry?
I consider that whole area – general area – my cock. Like, from my knees to my nipples – cock.
And that’s the thing with you, Hank. One never knows what to expect from you or your dong.
My vagina looks like downtown baghdad right now.
I just threw up in my mouth a little. You had 20 centuries of halfway decent verse to choose from and you’re going with some minor Frosty?
Look, I don’t want to take sides here, but I want to say, for the record, categorically, never.. never stick a finger up a grown man’s ass without warning. Don’t do it.
What? I’m the asshole. Just because I say what’s on everybody’s mind?
Let’s party while this bitch can still get wet.
If you keep cracking jokes and taking another drink and pretending that life is one big, stupid party, you will miss everything.
You know, I dropped an Advil on the floor earlier and couldn’t find it. I thought maybe you could crawl around and look for it.