God Dammit, I Am Drunk!!!!!!!!

[Clitfucker]

Just thought that I would let y'all know that I am drunk as a muthafucka.

 

[Guest]

 

[freefall]

Ahhh. I remember when I was 15.

Enjoy, CF.




FF

 

[Clitfucker]

Re: Re: God Dammit, I Am Drunk!!!!!!!!

Hmmm, whatcha drinkin' doll?

I've been drinkin' Natural Light ever since 6PM.

 

[Clitfucker]

Ahhh. I remember when I was 15.

Enjoy, CF.




FF

Uh dude, I am 20.

 

[Throbbin_Rod]

Re: Re: Re: God Dammit, I Am Drunk!!!!!!!!

I've been drinkin' Natural Light ever since 6PM.

You'll be praying for a quick painless death by 6 a.m. then.

 

[Shaq]

Alcohol is the urine of the devil...

 

[His_kitty]

Even though I rarely drink ..... it's been such a shit day, I've been thinking about it. Shame there's no booze in the house.

 

[Clitfucker]

Re: Re: Re: Re: God Dammit, I Am Drunk!!!!!!!!

You'll be praying for a quick painless death by 6 a.m. then.

Dude, just shut up, cuz I can handle 10X more alcohol then you.

 

[OpposingBalance]

Ahhh, no, not again, dude...

 

[Shaq]

Ahhh, no, not again, dude...

That's what the janitors at my elementary school would say on days I drank to much water...

 

[Clitfucker]

Ahhh, no, not again, dude...

What do you mean?

 

[Laurel]

My Private Vasquez thread is better than yours. Dude.

 

[Problem Child]

That's funny...you aren't posting any differently.

 

[OpposingBalance]

My Private Vasquez thread is better than yours. Dude.

Dude!!
Really...dude?

 

[Clitfucker]

My Private Vasquez thread is better than yours. Dude.

You are full of shit, DUDE.

 

[Problem Child]

Hey, Francis.

Lay off Laurel or I'll come to Tennessee and make you my bitch, dogboy.

 

[Clitfucker]

Hey, Francis.

Lay off Laurel or I'll come to Tennessee and make you my bitch, dogboy.

Come on down bitchboy.

 

[OpposingBalance]

You are full of shit, DUDE.

Thats not cool dude..

 

[Problem Child]

Come on down bitchboy.

I'll eat your liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.

 

[Clitfucker]

I'll eat your liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.

Shit, I'll stomp a mudhole in your ass.

 

[Problem Child]

Shit, I'll stomp a mudhole in your ass.

Let me guess, you'll be the skinny dude in front of the double-wide trailer with the sixteen breed mongrel mutt chained to the tire.

I'll know it's you by your mullet, which you get carefully coiffed every two weeks at the local haircutting salon MulletMagic.

You'll be sitting on a bench seat you got from uncle BillyBob's '72 ElCamino, strategically located in front of the trailer, but not too far off the dirt road, so if the local white trash hoes happen to drive by in their 70's era Chevy trucks with primered fenders and mismatched tires you can yell "Hey Baby, how 'bout some a this heyah manmeat for ya, sugah!" and get them totally hot and bothered.

You'll be wearing a wifebeater tank top, and really dude, shave the 'stache. My Italian Grandmother has a thicker one. And those grease stains on your jeans from last week...classy.

Let me guess...if I peek through the torn screen door at your TV with the rabbit ears, I'll find either Wheel...of...Fortune! or Springer on the TV, and undoubtedly there will be some empty Swanson hungry man dinners on the counter, with an ant trail leading under the sink. The three full bags of empty beer cans is a nice touch too.

Don't worry, I'll be sure to check both ways before crossing the railroad tracks that run through your backyard, and if I miss it, I'll just listen for sirens from a domestic disturbance call.

With all those clues it should be easy to find you and come stick an electric cattle prod up your ass while I make you nibble on a dried dog turd I find right next to your front door.

 

[OpposingBalance]

Shit, I'll stomp a mudhole in your ass.

Yeah right dude

 

[Clitfucker]

Let me guess, you'll be the skinny dude in front of the double-wide trailer with the sixteen breed mongrel mutt chained to the tire.

I'll know it's you by your mullet, which you get carefully coiffed every two weeks at the local haircutting salon MulletMagic.

You'll be sitting in a bench seat you got from uncle BillyBob's '72 ElCamino, strategically located in front of the trailer, but not too far off the dirt road, so if the local white trash hoes happen to drive by in their 70's era Chevy trucks with primered fenders and mismatched hoods you can yell "Hey Baby, how bout some a this heyah manmeat for ya, sugah!" and get them totally hot and bothered.

You'll be wearing a wifebeater tank top, and really dude, shave the 'stache. My Italian Grandmother has a thicker one. And those grease stains on your jeans from last week...classy.

Let me guess...if I peek through the torn screen door at your TV with the rabbit ears, I'll find either Wheel...of...Fortune! or Springer on the TV, and undoubtedly there will be some empty Swanson hungry man dinners on the counter, with an ant trail leading under the sink. The three full bags of empty beer cans is a nice touch too.

Don't worry, I'll be sure to check both ways before crossing the railroad tracks that run through your backyard, and if I miss it, I'll just listen for sirens from a domestic disturbance call.

With all those clues it should be easy to find you and come stick an electric cattle prod up your ass while I make you nibble on a dried dog turd I find right next to your front door.

EXACTLY, muthafucka.

 

[Problem Child]

EXACTLY, muthafucka.

What do they charge for the full mullet treatment?