B is for douche….
I don’t know how he does it…. he just keeps getting douchier. And douchier.
Bill Cosby called and said… well, you know where this was going.
At first I thought, you have to admire a guy who can bag Mila Kunis, even when he’s clearly a tool. Then I saw her track record with men. Mild admiration revoked.
No, grandpa! We take you home first then you get your apple sauce.
“I’m fucking Mila Kunis. I don’t have to try anymore!”
when did he contract AIDS?
Remember the stretch monster? Me too.
Replace “?” with “!”
Life is like a box of chocolates . . .
“See how crazy this sweater is? Gosh I’m so nutty! My wacky comedy hi-jinx are unparalleled! Oh, it’s not funny? Too late, you already saw me. Thirty million dollars, please.”
“Wont you please,
Won’t you please?
Please won’t you be my neighbor.
I fucking hate this guy.
He needs to go back to Demi and die quietly in her arms.
I was so proud of myself for not clinking on the Carrot Top thumb, and what the flying fuck am I doing here!
Is this supposed to look hipster?
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