Friday mother fuckers

Oh thank fucking Christ.

Friday just walked through the door like a stripper who actually showed up for her shift. Skirt barely legal, tits out, smelling like tequila and has some blow still on her nose. She looked at all five of us deadbeat dads slumped in the recliner and said, “You boys ready to ruin me?”

Yes ma’am. We’ve been edging since Tuesday.

This bitch has been teasing us all week, sending nudes while Monday was still finger-banging our souls with her low-tide stench. But Friday? Friday lets us raw dog the weekend.

She doesn’t care that we’re broke, balding, and emotionally deceased. She knows we’ll spend her entire night drinking Piss Water, screaming at the TV, and crying during the national anthem like the patriots we are.

Be honest boys… what disgusting shit are you doing to Friday tonight?

I’m already three Piss Waters deep and googling if the blood in my shit is normal. Send help. Or more beer.

Welcome to the morgue, motherfuckers.