This had me laughing for minutes and inspired some ideas.
This past weekend was Labor Day so a bunch of us got together to eat our body weight in burgers and get white girl wasted. Later in the evening a friend and I were sharing stories and laughing about one of her ex-boyfriends we refer to as “Buffalo Bill” because he was into really weird shit in the bedroom. He had a bit of a sex dungeon in his apartment, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to bang you, kill you, and wear your skin afterward.
Unfortunately for him, he has now earned a nickname so solid, he might as well go to the DMV and have it legally changed. He may have been born a “Joe,” but he will die as “Buffalo Bill,” and there is nothing he can do to change it. The poor bastard could cure cancer, and we would still joke about…
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