Filthy Hilarious Cab Conversations
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PostPosted: Mon Sep 23, 2013 4:35 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Score! I suggest you practice using it like a spear.
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Location: somewhere someplace driving yer drunk ass around

PostPosted: Thu Sep 26, 2013 12:12 pm    Post subject: Miley Cyrus Home Depot Joke Reply with quote

Told this Tina Fey joke to Rainy, my Home Depot peep, referencing the new Miley Cyrus "Wrecking Ball" video:
"When I start acting weird and start licking sledgehammers, they kick me out of the Home Depot."
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PostPosted: Thu Feb 13, 2014 9:27 pm    Post subject: This Is For the Filthy Minded Lady Who No Loaded Me Reply with quote

We had an agreement I was going to pick you up when you called. I rushed from Downtown to Victoria's Secret across from Calhoun Square. I said Id be there in 15 minutes. I was there in 14. You bailed on me, presumebly hailing another cab. I hope yer husband doesn't catch any nasty venereal diseases when yer away on "business."
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 24, 2014 10:30 pm    Post subject: If Jesus Christ or Satan Wanted to Ride in My Cab Reply with quote

Note: This story has been edited for "content" and not by me. Its 99% there. Hopefully, the entire sordid tale will land intact in the SEWER SYSTEM.

If Jesus Christ or Satan walked up and got into my cab, it would go down like this: More than likely, I'd probably pick them up at a downtown hotel. Given their differences, it's unlikely they'd be sharing a cab.
Me: Hello my friend, where can I take you tonite?
Jesus: I am Jesus Christ, Son of God!
Satan: I am Satan, Prince of Darkness!
Me: And I'm Mario Andretti Jr. son of Mario Andretti!
Note to all Higher Beings: Announcing you're a religious icon is NOT an address.
I would scan The Prince of Peace or The Fallen Angel in my rear view mirror very carefully. Acting like a religious kook is Strike 1.
Me: That's all fine and good, but I can't read yer mind. I need an address to take you where you want to go.
If Jesus replied "Heaven" or Satan replied "Hell", that's Strikes 2 and 3 and they're out. I'd ask them not so politely to get the fuck out of my cab.
If they refused to vacate, I'm sure the Mpls Police Dept. would have a great time figuring out how "unworldly" they were. And I'd have a great time watching and filming a viral YouTube video.
However, if the word "Heaven" or "Hell" was magically planted in my brain, I'd be on point. I'd need a good look-see inside the horse's mouth before putting my cab in "Drive."
The modern era Jesus and Satan would look nothing like their ancient selves. Jesus is neither white nor black, more of a creamy "almond" color. He would not have an obnoxious beer hipster beard. He would be dressed in white, wearing a billowy blouse, comfortable cotton pants and sandals (with socks!) He would be traveling with two or three fetching hippie girlfriends and a massive bodyguard/consigliere. No doubt the bodyguard would ride shotgun while Jesus and his cupcakes made themselves comfortable in the back seat.
Bodyguard: What's yer name?
Me: Paul.
Jesus: Paul, you share a name with a cherished Disciple. I like you already. Are you a Christian?
Me: No. But I'm closer to being one than I ever have been before.
Jesus: Why? Why now?
Me: I've been an Agnostic my entire life. When I was a kid, my parents crammed you down my throat, no offense. I wanted to believe in you but I have no proof and honestly, I still don't. Ii tried praying. No one ever answered my prayers. When you planted the word "Heaven" in my brain my heart almost burst with joy!
Jesus: Son, why are you troubled? The Kingdom of Heaven awaits you!
Me: I need to see how this plays out. You seem legit, but even Charles Manson has charisma.
Bodyguard: Paul, Jesus has a full plate today. We need you to be at the Minneapolis Hilton at 6 a.m. tomorrow morning. Jesus would love to see the beautiful churches n your community. We would also like to visit the Homeless Shelters and the "hobo" villages. We will be hiring you for the entire day. Flat rate of $1000 work for you? We will pay you in advance.
I almost swallowed my tongue: $1000 will be fine! Thank you!
The bodyguard whips out a wad of $100 bills. He licks his fingers, peeling off ten $100s.
Jesus: Scott, give that man another $1000. He's struggling with his faith. He deserves to be rewarded for his spiritual quest.
Cupcakes: Give him $2000! He's cute!
Scott: Lord, we must be careful not to buy this man's faith!
Me: $1000 is more than enough. Thank you!

Satan would fly solo. He has no need for companionship, protection, advice or pussy. He has no need for anything, but as the King of the Hedonists, he is addicted to stimulation.
Satan, unlike most solo passengers insisted on riding in the front passenger seat. I'm irritated, but I slide the seat back as far as it will go. Satan hops in.
Me: Where can I take you tonight?
Satan: Are you a Christian?
Me: No. I'm an agnostic. Does that make a difference?
Satan: Yes. It relaxes me. Especially in this damned country. The United States has more Jesus Freaks than rats!
Me: If you are truly Satan, I probably shouldn't tell you this.
His ability to read my mind separated him from the usual Goth/Satanist wannabe crowd
His eyes were glowing pulsating red. Thick sulphuric smelling smoke poured from his nose. He was pissed!
Satan: Tell me where he is or I'll snap your neck!
I wanted to ask him to read my mind again if he was so all powerful, but his anger was so intense I feared for my life.
Me: Actually, I didn't drive him anywhere. I'm picking him and his crew up at The Downtown Hilton at 6 a.m. tomorrow morning.
Satan: Telling the truth saved yer life. Yer a brave soul, Mr. Paul Singleton. Most humans are terrified of me and rightfully so.
He knew my name without me telling him. I stare at him. Satan is a young white man, about 30, wearing an expensive tailor made black pinstripe suit, a red handkerchief in the breast pocket, a jaunty grey and white fedora, curly black hair spilling to his shoulders, Ray Ban sunglasses, a soul patch, blinding white teeth, black high top Chuck Taylor's.
Me: (showing him my matching Chuck's): Nice shoes. To answer yer question: To a varying degree, I'm afraid of every stranger riding in my cab. On a scale from 1-1000, yer a 666 going on 999. I'm terrified of you but I have a feeling there's not a hell of a lot I can do about it.
Satan: Very funny. A fucking jokester.
Me: I'm trying to make a living here. We gotta roll. And I need some money up front.
Satan: You don't trust me?
Me: Yew just threatened to snap my neck. Yer the fucking devil, remember?
Satan pulls out at least a 1/4 pound of cocaine: Obviously yer a drug addict. Will this do?
Me: Put that back in yer pocket. I'm gonna pretend I didn't see that. Now where are we going?
Satan: Think of the most debauched ultra sinful deed you actively participated in. That's where I want to go. And please, no garden variety rapes or murders. They bore me to tears. The time or place doesn't matter. Here's $10,000 bucks. I will pay you more if I'm entertained. I will kill you if I'm not.
I stare at the fat stack of $100 bills. Holy shit. Ten grand.
Me: That's most generous. The most wicked scene I ever participated in was over 30 years ago. I'm a different person now. I regret it happened.
Satan: Guilt and regret are for pussies. Take me there or I take back my 10 grand and I will kill you. Yer choice.

I shut my eyes and I'm back at my crib at 27th and Fremont Av S. The year: 1981. I am 23 years old. I look at myself in the bathroom mirror: BEAU-TI-FUL!!
I open the fridge, grabbing two suitcases of 16 ounce Special Export Tall Boys and a 1.75 liter bottle of Jack Daniels, toting them up to my attic bedroom.
I introduce my new buddy Satan to my pleasingly plump gal pal Val, my insane punk rock Sid Vicious wannabe roommate Toby and my ferocious German Shepard/Husky cross Zakker the Attacker.
Me: This is my pal Satan. I picked him up in my cab tonight. He made it worth my while to quit early. IT'S PARTY TIME!!
Val and Toby: When did you start driving cab?
Me: Yesterday. 30 years ago. Does it matter?
Val and Toby don't pay too much attention to my guest. Our punk rock hovel was a revolving door Mecca for misfits, drug addicts, couch surfers and freaks.
Zack, an excellent judge of character, did not like Satan. Zack bared all his teeth, growling low and slow. He was ready to rip Satan's face off. I grab his collar.
Me: I think Zack needs to go outside.
Satan: That's odd. I own thousands of dogs. Usually they adore me.
Me (lying): He probably thinks you're overdressed. Or yer a cop.
I yank Zack down the steps. He whines, not wanting to leave my side.
I was frantic. I had to figure out a way to neutralize the Prince of Darkness or he was going to kill us. Zack's over-the-top reaction was another nail in my coffin. This dude was ultra dangerous and sadistically evil.
I walk back upstairs. Val, Toby and Satan are drinking beer, making small talk.
Satan: Call me Bub. Satan is too formal.
Toby (sarcastically): As in Beezelebub?
Satan: Cheese and rice! A religious scholar! A smart fellow like you deserves party favors!!
Satan whips out his quart sized bag of blow. He dumps the whole pile on the coffee table. Val and Toby's eyes bug out of their heads.
Satan: I hope you don't mind I brought Grade A treats.
I grab three large black straws. Val abstains. We're like three pigs in a feeding trough, putting a serious dent in Satan's stash. His blow is incredible. I'm sweating bullets and paranoid as hell. I need booze and lots of it to calm me down.
Satan: I hear you punk rockers enjoy a drinking and gambling game called "Beer Bonging." Am I right?
Toby (high, drunk, stupid and smelling easy money): YEW BET YER ASS WE DO!! I'M THE BEST GODDAMN BEER BONGER IN THE CITY OF MINNEAPOLIS!!
Me: Toby, yer 5'2 and yew weigh 120 pounds. I think yer exaggerating a little bit.
Toby: Fuck you Singleton. OK, I'm the best beer bonger in my weight class. Hey Satan, ready to put your money where yer mouth is?
Satan: I sure am. $100 says I'm the last man not hurling.
I check my wallet: the $10k Satan gave me as a deposit as well as the $1k Jesus gavepp me is gone. I still have the hundred dollar bank I began my night with.
Toby has four crumpled one dollar bills and a piggy bank to his name.
Satan puts words in my brain: Think yer pretty fucking cute, huh? Yer playing a dangerous game asshole, running with BOTH me and Jesus ON THE SAME DAY! If yer still alive at the end of the night, I'll give yer dough back and I won't set you on fire in front of your little friends!
I'm pissed. If Zack was in the room, we'd be going for Satan's throat!
Toby produces the Beer Bong: a large funnel attached to a three foot polyurethane hose.
Satan: So how is this game played?i
Toby: Allow me to demonstrate.
Toby pours a Tall Boy into the funnel, plugging the end of the tube with his thumb. He raises the funnel and puts the end of the tube in his piehole. Gravity does the rest. The beer is in Toby's stomach in two seconds.
Toby belches with tone and sustain: BRRRRAAPPP!
Me: Toby, explain the rules to Bub. I'm gonna let Zack back in. He loves lapping up beer puke.
Val: That's disgusting.
Me: I'd rather Zack eats it than me having to clean it up.
Toby: OK Bub, here's the rules. Round 1: a Tall Boy and a shot of Jack. Round 2: two Tall Boys and two shots of Jack. Round 3: three Tall Boys and three shots of Jack. Round 4: No one has ever made it to Round 4 without gakking. It's like Star Trek: going where no man has never not puked before!
Satan: First time for everything.
Toby: Yer pretty fucking confident. Where yew from?
Satan: I own a punk rock bar/strip club/marijuana dispensery called Dante's Let's Burn One! outside of Diablo Colorado on my favorite Highway Route 666.
Toby is impressed: Oi!
We draw straws. Toby draws the short straw and goes first. I draw the middle straw and go second. Satan goes last. Val wants nothing to do with Beer Bonging, but graciously volunteers to be the bartender and scorekeeper.
Val: I enjoy watching yew guys puke and behaving like idiots. It amuses me.
Toby: Let's get the show on the road! We gonna drink or we gonna jerk off?
Val pours Toby a Tall Boy, pours in a shot of Jack and raises the bong. Toby sits on the floor in the lotus position, a drunk hippie/punk hybrid. Toby puts the hose to his lips and releases his thumb.
Toby: Yew fucking fucks don't stand a chance! BBBBBBRRRRRAAAAPP!!
It's my turn next. I suck that baby down like mother's milk. Easy peasy!
Satan: Here I go! I'm a Beer Bong virgin!
Bullshit. If it moved, Satan fucked it. If it didn't move, Satan fucked it until it did.
Val: Its really interesting watching yew guys hurl. Everybody needs a hobby.
Toby: My favorite hobby is pulling out used tampons with my teeth.
Val: I'll keep that in mind. You ready Satan?
Satan: Bring it on, tampon!
Val (irritated): Can we leave my vagina out of this?
Satan: Whatever makes you glad, Maxi-Pad!
Val loads the bong, doesn't get a chance to raise it before Satan evaporates the contents in less than half a second.
Val: Wow. That's impressive!
Satan: Beginner's luck.
Toby: I know a gay dude who can suck like that!
Satan: Say it don't spray it! We'll see who's gonna suck tonight!
Me: Less talk and more chalk. Lets go!
Val pours two 16 ounce tall boys and two shots of Jack in the beer bong.
Toby stands up for this round.
Val: Ready Toby?
Toby: I was born ready!
Val raises the bong, Toby releases his thumb and inhales 32 ounces of Special X and 2 shots of Jack Daniels. His eyes cross, his cheeks puff out, he falls against the wall. His face is crimson red.
Me: Fixing to spew, Toby?
Toby: Fubb yew!!
Satan: Yew fixing to gack, old chap?
Toby: Epp shat!
A beer bubble emerges from Toby's mouth. The bubble turns into a dribble, the dribble grows into a small stream and quickly morphs into a gusher flying from Toby's mouth!
Zack is on the puke like Oprah on a baked ham, lapping up Toby's gack.
Satan: Toby puked! Where's my $100 bucks?
I take Satan aside: Dude, Toby's all cheap ass punk rock bravado! He ain't got $100 bucks.
Satan: I'll kill the mothafucka who dares to go south on a legitimate bet.
Me: Perhaps we can come to a compromise.
Satan: Yeah we can come to a compromise alright. There's two things in this room I can't stand. Toby and your dog. How about ol' Tob gives ol' Zack a little swirlie? It'll relax the ol' boy and if I don't see my money, at least I'll see a money shot!
Satan: I insist. And if it don't happen, I'm gonna incinerate both of them!
Toby is lying on my bed, semi-conscious. Zack is licking up the last bit of puke.
Me: Toby?
Toby: Hah?
Me: We got a problem. A big problem.
Toby: It went down the wrong tube. I want a rematch!
Me: Listen up yew little turd! Satan's pissed yew ain't got his money. Personally, I could care less.
Toby: What the fuck I gotta do?
Me: Yer not gonna like it.
Toby: I hate everything anyway. What does the prick want me to do?
Me: Toby, Satan is the REAL SATAN!! The fucking Prince of Darkness!! The Devil. I'm not joking. He wants yew to blow Zack. If yew don't, he's gonna burn both of yew alive!
Toby: And he's not joking, right? I gotta blow yer dog or he's gonna kill us?
Me: I'm afraid so.
Toby (softly): Well, let's get it over with then!


Val: Well that was interesting. I can actually tell my grandchildren I witnessed a punk rocker blow a dog.
Toby: Hey Val, when shit for brains splits, do yew and Paulie wanna have an orgy?
Val: Are yew joking? Do yew think lips that just drank a load of dog cum are gonna touch mine?
Me: Toby yer a fucking stupid idiot. And now we can add gay and dog cum swallower to the list.
Toby: I yam what I yam.
Satan: Hey, don't we got a game to finish?
Me: Yes we do. With all the wonderful hubbub I almost forgot.
Val readies my round. I've done two Tall Boys before, never mixed with two shots of Jack. I was more than a little bit squeamish that I'd be looking at my second round twice. Like Toby, I stand up. Val stands on a chair so the hose is completely vertical. I wanted that shit in the bottom of my stomach quick.
I release my thumb. The booze makes a beeline for my stomach. I'm good until the Jack kicks in and starts gurgling, pushing everything back up. I plug my nose and clamp my mouth shut. My mouth is full of bile, Jack and beer. Tears flood down my cheeks. I can't breathe, so I try swallowing. It's either that or I get whupped by Satan!
GULP!! The vile mixture goes back down and stays there!
Val (concerned): Yew OK?
Toby: (laughing): Fucker's gonna blow!
Satan: I thought we we're gonna see a re-creation of the "Hurl of the Sir Edmund Fitzgerald!
I can't talk. I nod my head. I'm OK.
It's Satan's turn.
He asks Val: May I have a double please?
Val: Beg yer pardon?
Satan: Someone needs the shit cleaned out of their ears. MAY I HAVE A DOUBLE PLEASE??
Val: 4 beers and 4 shots of Jack?
Satan: I'm mighty fucking thirsty.
Val pours the four Tall Boys. 64 ounces. The beer bong is completely full.
Val: There's no room for the Jack.
Satan: I'm gonna send yew punk rockers crying home to yer Mama's. I'm gonna down this. Then fill it up all the way with Jack and I'll be taking all yer dough-ray-me-home with me.
Satan puts the hose to his lips. The beer vanishes.
He smacks his lips: Tasty! Now for the Main Course!
Val pours 64 ounces of Jack Daniels in the beer bong.
Satan: I'm gonna drink this nice and slow so yew gentleman can contemplate how utterly stupid and pathetic yew fags are.
Val raises the beer bong. Satan starts glugging it down.
Me: Hey Satan! Jesus tells me yer a limp dick three pump chump pussy!
Satan spews Jack everywhere.
Me, Toby and Val: Yew lose! Cough up $100!
Satan goes ballistic. He's eyes are churning red, he's breathing fire, his fingernails have become claws and his clothes erupt in flames!
Me: Fine. We'll beat it out of you!
Zack goes for Satan's throat. Toby and I grab baseball bats and golf clubs. We hit home runs and hole in ones. Zack bites thru Bub's jugular vein, spraying green blood everywhere. Val sprays the Prince of Darkness with a fire extinguisher.
And then somebody kicks down the door!
I turn around: it's Jesus and his crew!
Jesus: ENOUGH!!
We stop beating on Satan. He's in bad shape.
Jesus walks thru the muck, kneeling over his enemy. He touches Bub's caved in forehead.
Satan opens his eyes.
Satan goes for Jesus's throat. Jesus easily pushes him away. He stands over Satan has a smirk on his smashed face.
Satan: Why didn't yew let them kill me?
Jesus: Because you owe Paul the Cabdriver $10K. And the $1k that I gave him. And yew owe both Paul and Toby $100.
Satan reaches in his pockets. All his money is burnt to a crisp.
Jesus pulls out $11,200. He gives me the $10k Satan owed me for the cab ride. He hands Toby and I $100 each, covering Satan's bets.
Jesus: I'm sorry Paul, but yer in no shape to drive.
Me: Yer right. I've had so much to drink I'd probably break the Breathalyzer.
Jesus smiles with all of his teeth and hands Val ten $100 bills.
Val: What's this for?
Jesus: I always tip my waitrons and bartenders.
Me, Val and Toby: Thank you Jesus.
Jesus: Don't thank me. We just broke into the Basillica and stole all their Rock the Basillica Blockparty money. Can yew believe those mushy young white people pay $75 per day to watch those boring non-threatening "rock" bands?"
Me: I'll never go there unless Marilyn Manson plays. Equal opportunity and all that.
Satan: Jesus, you stole money from a Church?
Jesus: I sure did. All the money from those shows is funneled to Rome and then distributed around the globe so pedophile priests can lawyer up. I had to steal it!
Satan: Jesus, I guess we're not so different after all.
Jesus: If yew weren't so busy torturing people in Hell, you would have realized a LONG time ago that we NEED each other. We're two sides of the same coin. Good cop/bad cop. John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Get it?
Satan: Well, I'll be damned . .
Jesus: You already ARE damned, so don't worry about it. Satan, I'm gonna make yew an offer yew shouldn't refuse.
Satan: I'm lying here drunk and bloody so I ain't got much choice but to listen.
Jesus: Attaboy. First of all, close down Hell and free those unfortunate souls. Yew've messed with them long enough.
Satan: Jesus, I don't know if that's a good idea. You know I'm a working man. I'm not ready to retire.
Jesus: I like yer attitude. If you promise to behave yerself, yew can co-host a worldwide television program. With me!
Satan: I like the way yew talk. What's the format?
Jesus: It'll be a Point/Counter Point show for young folks. The name of the program is "Relatin' Wit' Jesus and Satan." Kids will be able to decide what side of the fence they want to be on.
Satan: How's it gonna go?
Jesus: For example, I'll say "Taylor Swift and you say . .
Satan: Soon the bitch will slit her wrists!
Jesus: I'll say Alice Cooper and you say . .
Satan: Is a born again Christian, a Republican and takes it up the pooper!
Jesus: Hmm . . One more. The shock rocker Marilyn Manson . .,
Satan: Loves the band Hanson!
Jesus: Now yer getting it! Is Dick Cheney alive or dead?
Satan: Ask the dead hooker giving him head!
Jesus: (laughing). Bub, you've always been a wit!
Satan: You know I don't give a shit!
Me, Val and Toby: Hey, what about us?
Jesus: What about you? Now, it's all about us . .
Satan: And the cops are on the way because Jesus threw you under the bus!


Last edited by vishnu666 on Thu Jul 03, 2014 2:18 am; edited 36 times in total
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PostPosted: Sun Jun 29, 2014 6:30 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The answer to world peace lies in there some where!
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PostPosted: Sun Jun 29, 2014 7:41 pm    Post subject: Yer Right Reply with quote

2fisted wrote:
The answer to world peace lies in there some where!

The older I get, I feel my "spiritual, not necessarily religious" section of my being becoming clearer and self evident. I don't know if the world's problems boil down to good and evi; there is a lot of grey area there and I've existed between the polar opposites my entire life. I think most of us can relate.

Examples of people who rock:
Mary Jo Kopecknik "Helping Hands"
The Hamms Bear
Martin Sheen
The Dali Lhama
Betsy Kennedy

Evil People Who Should Burn in Hell
Dick Cheney
Bernie Madoff
The 9/11 plotter who resembles Ron Jeremy the Porn Star
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PostPosted: Sun Jun 29, 2014 8:09 pm    Post subject: Death of a Cab Driver Reply with quote

I roll up to the crappy NE Mpls dive bar, the Moose on Monroe. It's accurately named because four fat girls, four behemoths, four Uber beasts stumble out the door and approach my cab. They surround me on all four sides. Beast #1 is staring at me. Beast #2 is pulling on the locked front passenger door. Beasts #3 and #4 are smoking a blunt.
All four beasts feel the need to insult me, my cab and the company I work for.
"Rainbow? That's a faggot cab company. Some queer probably blew his load in the back seat. Now we're supposed to sit in faggot cum?"
Beast #1 gets on her haunches and looks me straight in the eye through my partially rolled up window.
Beast #1: Yew look like a straight up junkie. I bet yew like heroin!
I look at Beast #1. She weighs at least 400 lbs.
Me: Yer a fucking hawg. I bet yew REALLY like food. .
SMASH! Beast #1 punches my window and pulls me out the car by my hair.
Beast #1: Hurry the fuck up! Pop the trunk!
Beast #1 punches me square in the face: Yew fucking bony ass junkie!
She tosses me in the trunk and slams it shut.
The ride is long and bumpy.
Finally, the car stops. At a liquor store. No doubt the whales park the cab 100 yards away from the front door so no body can hear me yell. I hear a squeaky two wheeler approaching. The trunk opens.
Beast #1 punches me in the mouth again.
"Shut the fuck up! None of this would have happened if yew didn't call me fat!"
I try jumping out but Beast #2 grabs my ankle and snaps it like a twig. I fall back inside the trunk.
The girls toss in four cases of Milwaukee's Best and a couple of quarts of Ol' Grandad.
Beast #1: "We got plans for you boy. Special plans."

Attach four logging chains to the frame of my car, secure the other end around their beluga whale waists, dangle a pie 5 feet from their noses and they would have drawn-and-quartered my cab.
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PostPosted: Sat Oct 18, 2014 12:32 pm    Post subject: Heard in My Cab Today Reply with quote

"I'm so broke I jerked off my dog to feed my cat."
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PostPosted: Sun Oct 19, 2014 2:05 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

now that's a keeper!
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PostPosted: Sun Oct 19, 2014 2:08 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

now that's a keeper!
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