I'll Tell You What Can

One Of My Girlfriends Was Getting Married. This Was Becoming An Annoying Pattern.

I Got A Vibrator That Needed Two Nine Volt Batteries. What Am I - R2d2? I Don't Know What To Do With That.

My Negotiation Skills Are Are On Par With George Bush's Reading Ability. And Just Like Dubya, Every Time I've Tried To Put Forth An Effort, I Am Reminded That My Only True Strength Lies In Drinking.

I Was Tortured, And Probably Half Of It Was Deserved, But I Was Bullied — So Much So That There Were Days When I Was Like, 'i Can't Go To School Today.' I Was Too Scared.

He Was All Emotion All The Time, Constantly Talking About His Feelings And His Profound Love For Her. He Was Minutes From Getting His First Period. He Wrote Poems Too. It's My Personal Belief That If Men Are Writing Poems, They're Making Up For Something Else Like A Big Hair Back, Or One Ball. Not That One Ball Is A Bad Thing. Especially Since I Don't Know Any Females Who Are Dying To Their Their Hands On A Set Of Balls. The Way I See It, The Less Balls, The Better.