Furby. Every time you wake Furby up, DRINK.
We drink to bond with coworkers, friends, family, and lovers. We drink because it feels good.
If you rely on alcohol to break you out of your shell or remove you from your problems, you’ll only become increasingly insecure about your genuine self.
In twenty years, you won’t remember that you drunkenly spent $50 on drinks on a Saturday night—you’ll remember the ugly bathroom selfies with your best friends and dancing until the sun came up.
My fellow drinkers who give a shit, if you happen to find yourself on this strip of land and don’t make it out far east enough to hit the hamptons, or if you live in Utah, then be on the look out for these warning signs that your drink will be terrible.
Jack and Coke. Gentle just doesn’t do it for you. You want to be thrown up against the wall and have your clothes ripped from your body.
Waterfall every time Hillary mentions being a woman.
Eight bucks for that teeny tiny shot you gulped down in two seconds? That can’t be right. Thank goodness you’re a lightweight.
Said “eh whatever” and not worn a condom during sex even though you should have.
“Just one glass of wine tonight”