February 2018

Love Is In The Air, I Can Smell It

If Valentine's Day were an Olympic sport, I could have handed out medals in all categories. The gold, silver and bronze medal winners were easy to pick out in a sea of brown (poop) medal losers. Some people used the holiday of love to day drink and ass out early, some thought it was an excuse to shamelessly try to pick up every woman in the bar, while others just lost their jacket, purse, shoes AND their date.

Stuff and Junk

From now on I'm going to keep my drivers license, my cash and my credit cards in my underwear. Why might you ask? I'm not sure exactly, but if women can keep all that stuff stashed in their bra covered in boob sweat I don't see why I can't get a little junk funk on my forms of currency and identification. Take the girl from last night for example. I asked for IDs from the group of friends that came in and everyone got out their wallets and purses, gladly producing proper documentation, except for one.

A Shot Too Far

When communicating to someone that they are no longer going to be served an alcoholic beverage the reactions vary from person to person. Some take it well and other people not so much. Now sometimes, if someone is being a generally pleasant customer but is getting close to having enough you give them the pre-cutoff warning, like "Hey, I'm glad you're having a good time, but I think this is going to be the last drink I'll be able to serve you tonight.