Worst. Idea. Ever. You'll end up getting drunk and stumbling off with a hockey player of questionable talent and leave her dazed, buzzed and confused. While she observes the tundra and igloos in the distance, a stranger bearing reindeer sausage will approach and offer her a ride home on his snowmobile that's been converted into a van with enticing snowflakes painted on the side. She'll follow him, wide eyed, innocent and intoxicated. Somewhere in the distance a seal will bark a warning. But it's to late...
If shes little it wont take a lot just get wine coolers or something along those lines. Or just say fuck it and bust out shots of Malibu or Captain Morgan, apparently I'm all about rum today.
You do realize that county brainpower is an oxymoron? If my brain were a mule, I'd shoot it. Or stomp on it with one of your enormous shoes. Ok, that didn't make any damned sense. Maybe the time away did hurt my fragile reasoning capabilities.
Have her try a variety of things, it is the spice of life after all. Maybe she will find something she likes. More than likely it'll be something sweet and girly. Me, I’m going to meet a friend at Old Chicago. Hockey game tomorrow night with a group of friends. Alcohol with be consumed in mass on both occasions. With the emotional state I'm it's probably not a good idea though. Here's to getting drunk and doing something stupid!
Oh you is a feisty one ain't you? Want to go hunting? You can wear the antler hat...all you have to do is wear antlers and dance in a clearing mooing...or whatever the fuck it is noise that deer make. Oh yeah, they cough. So you might want to be deep throating a sausage to make sure you get the sound right. It's perfectly safe. I promise. Tee hee...where's Gris when you really need him? I want a paintshop of shegirl wearing an antler hat choking on a sausage.
As though a real picture doesn't already exist? Tonight the stars have aligned a several of us are hitting happy hour. Which will turn into happy several hours. Time to put a cab company on speed dial, as we're all feeling the need to soak our livers. Seems this week sucked for everyone. "Hello Mr. Jameson, my old friend. Join me...we haven't talked for a while..."
That's a weekly occurance, no need. I wear it, choke myself out on "sausage", then I stomp around smashing things while waving my banstick around.
And I thought I was kinky! Because of this, the drinking has begun. I love Jim Beam Rye. Tonight is going to be a fantastic evening. After I drink here for a bit, we're heading out to a small get together near the University of Minnesota, then heading to Dinkytown and 7 Corners to hit up the bars there. Yes, I'm 25 and going to college bars. I don't have to dress up. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Pity. I read that and was really thinking you were going to talk about waving your rack around and bitching about small forests vs. big antlers. And stomping your hooves. I mean feet.
And a terrible stomach ache at first. They way things are going now I might as well tell you to get Cutty Sark instead and just make her life miserable as hell.
Easy, Vodka. Just mix it into something she likes and she will be smashed in no time. Get something decent and she probably wont even have a hangover. Right now I am drinking some Cape Codders to get rid of the nauseous feeling I was having from drinking too much last night. And it is working.
See, this is where you're wrong. We don't have snowmobiles up here, just dog sled teams and converted sled-vans.
A fucking hipster bike rally just rode by my place. I've never seen more skinny jeans on dudes, stupid art hats, or man-purses in one place in my life. I wish I were drunk, I would have yelled and thrown stuff...
Fucking deer. Riding my motorcycle back home after work, deer are lining the fucking roads on base. Which sucks, as a deer ran into my dad, antler first, into his left eye, on a ride in '02. I was there. Went over my handlebars at 75. Came away with nothing but bruises, but I felt like shit for the next week.