We all got that dibs friend. In my friend group we call him Danny Dibs because the dude has already claimed three out of the five boroughs in New York City. He’s also the guy who calls shotgun before seeing the car every fucking time too. It would be one thing if he threw his hat in the ring and approaching one of these chicks, but instead he just sits in the corner of the bar and stares at his “property” drooling down his chin with his dick in his hand like a grade A perv. And of course, when she leaves the bar, he’s always got a pre-packaged excuse–“she wasn’t that hot in the light” or “I saw a ring on her finger” or “I have debilitating diarrhea.” God Dibs Danny, sit on a ripe cucumber and twist.
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