You be the judge…
“Was just at the register at my local liquor store and realized I’d left my wallet at home (because I’m stoned) and said I would have to come back. The woman said “It’s fine. You come in here every day. I know you’re good for it.” So that’s where I’m at in life right now. I’m on credit at a liquor store. I guess I’ll SEE YOU IN HELL AMIGO!”
Glad we have him to help us learn important shit like this:
“I’m gonna tell you something that a lot of people are afraid to admit. Something the government wants kept quiet.
The secret ingredient in Jameson Irish Whiskey is cocaine.
If it’s not, then why did I destroy my entire apartment complex last night? Answer me that, college boy.”
Nothing mentioned about it on the bottle, but his evidence stacks up...
or so he says…
“Got into it with my boss today when he asked me to “please stop making mixed drinks in common areas when we have clients in the office.” I told him he might as well ask me to stop breathing, and he acted like that wasn’t a proper response. He wanted me to make a “promise” that I wouldn’t do it again or something. Then he got mad at me because I kept saying “I promise” while making air quotes and popping my eyebrows up and down. He doesn’t tell Big Lisa from Accounting to not emotionally eat in the common areas when there’s clients around, and that sure as hell would scare me off if I were them. What wouldn’t scare me is some TOTAL BADASS mixing up Rita’s on a coffee table and playing “That Smell” by Skynyrd while I was getting an office tour. Oh well. Can’t spell BOSS without B.O., that’s what I always say.”
Really? Is that what you always say? I wouldn’t be surprised if he told me he was fired 6 months ago and on the verge of being homeless at this point.
This is an amazing idea:
“So last night I was watching a college football game on a Tuesday night and working on my mystery novel “The Penis Chronicles” when I had a great idea. The coach from one team decided to “ice” the kicker in overtime by calling a timeout. As usual, it didn’t work and the kicker made it after the timeout. That’s when it hit me– This weekend, if you’re at the game and it’s close and the time comes for a pressure-filled kick, I want you to RUN ONTO THE FIELD with a Smirnoff Ice in your hand, straight up to the kicker and really “ICE” that motherfucker. Try hitting a 32 yard game winning field goal with a solid buzz on, you heavy-legged fuck! Once he chugs the Smirnoff and misses the kick– Boom– you’re the hero of your school, carried off on everyone’s shoulders and straight into a Fucking Contest with SDT (Spending Daddy’s Trillions? Sucking Dick Tonight?) where you’re up first. Aaaaaaaaaand you’re welcome.”
I like it when his ideas could have no possible result but arrest and yet he still thinks they’re good.
Apparently he did not invent this idea as he thinks he did.
They’re the best aren’t they? He sent this pic and wrote the shit below…
“I should’ve worked in Marketing. Problem solved, Mount Gay!”
Two major points of note: He made the island into a dick, and the bottle is empty. But I guess that's not suprising.
Go ahead, try…
“Just went to the liquor store with my surfer friend and talked to the clerk about football, then whiskey, then women troubles. On the way out, I snapped this photo. Who just had 10 more American minutes than that? That shit was BALLS-OUT-AMERICAN!!!!!!! Go ahead, try and beat it!”
Here’s the photo:
Are strawberries and cheese like a common thing? Never heard of it.