Friday, September 4, 2009

Themed post; booze. (meh...its labor day)

This sign makes me sad :()

You sometimes misplace yourself.

It doesn’t bother you when you wake up with an empty wallet because all those bartenders and waitresses probably deserve that money more than you do and HOLY SHIT HOW THE FUCK DID I SPEND SO MUCH FUCKING MONEY?

Your hangover has a hangover.

Your hangovers can be seen from space.

You can see your breath in July.

After eight drinks your “hugs” bear an uncanny resemblance to UFC take-downs.

You start your morning by reaching to the night stand, picking up your phone, pressing re-dial, and apologizing to whoever answers.

Youv’e tried to lay down on the ceiling.

You’ve stepped on your own fingers.

Everyone thinks you’re bilingual.
You receive divorce papers from your liver and it wants full custody of the kidneys.

The state has installed a Breathalyzer interlock device on your shoes.

Your favorite drinking game is Do A Shot Every Time You Do A Shot.

You spill so much booze at home your dog slurs his barks.

After your fifth drink, you’re like Don Juan with the ladies: They Don Juan nothing to do with you.

You can, in a pinch, construct a fully-operational keg tap from a cigarette lighter, two clothespins and lots of love.

You will eat a bug for a shot.

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