Tag Archives: sarcastic

Worst date ever doesn’t begin to describe it.

25 May

I do not recommend meeting people online.  You can go back and read some of my older posts about the freaks I’ve talked to, but the experience I am about to share with you now, is by far the worst.

A guy messaged me and his picture was quite impressive.  He looked like Tim Tebow, so we shall call him Tim.  I was intrigued.  We had the normal starter conversation and decided to meet at TGI Fridays parking lot because its a public place and convenient for both of us.

As I’m finishing getting dressed Tim texts me and asks if I’m actually as pretty as my pictures.  I replied “what are you going to do if I’m not?”.   He answered that he would simply say nothing and just walk away.  Wow. I’m already turned off, but at this point I am hungry and dressed to go.

I pull into the parking lot and I see him sitting on the tailgate of his blue truck.  It was nothing special but still a decent vehicle. I get out of my car. I’m pretty nervous and Tim walks up to me and introduces himself.  I guess I do look like my pictures.  He also looks like his pictures, and is well dressed and nicely groomed. We plan on going to a nice outdoor mall to do some window shopping and grab some dinner.  I ask him if he wants to drive and he says his truck isn’t running properly. He thinks he ran through a really deep puddle?  I ask him how he got he got here. He points to the apartments just behind the parking lot and says he lives there.  Whatever. I’m more comfortable being behind the wheel anyway.

We get into my car and he tells me I look innocent.

Weird.

He says “oh, I brought you something” and proceeds to pull candy out of his back pocket. Not just any candy.  Can you guess what kind of candy? No, you can’t.  Because you would probably never fucking guess that it was Fun Dip. Yes, FUN DIP, PEOPLE!

fundip

Because that’s just what I want, candy that he SAT ON.  Plus, I am a fucking adult.  I do not eat packets of sugar with a fucking stick that you suck. I don’t eat candy that turns my mouth all different colors of the rainbow.  I don’t want to suck on a sugar stick that was broken by the weight of his ass.

But, I am a polite person, so I say thank you and toss it in the backseat. We are on the road now.  Tim begins telling me how he used to sing country.  He searches his myspace page on his phone and makes me listen to multiple songs. I’m thinking, great, he is one of those.  I am not impressed and kind of annoyed.  He is no Johnny Cash. I ask him if he has facebook. He says he doesn’t because it was too much drama. That’s not strange at all.

We finally arrive and decide to go eat first.  We agreed on Buffalo Wild Wings.  We both order beers. We get on the subject of jobs.  He reveals that he is no longer employed because he crashed the company car.  He laughs about it.  So as of right now, he is a candy sitting-failed musician-broken truck having-unemployed-but good looking guy.  This is not what I had in mind.  The waitress asks me if I would like another beer.  I say “you know, I think we’re going to need a pitcher.”  Little did I know, things were going to get worse.

The subject of his living arrangements came up again.  He shares that he has a female room mate.  She is morbidly obese and in love with him. He also doesn’t have his own room.  He sleeps in the living room on the couch. Because he is couch surfing. Tim is basically homeless.  I am on a date with a homeless man.

We finish dinner and I pick up the check, because, well, I have a home.

I try to tune out his words and focus on his beauty. Despite all of his strike outs, he was very nice. But nice isn’t cutting it. Because things are still going to get worse.

We are driving home and he is talking about how psycho his “room mate” is.  Okay, dude, she isn’t your room mate. You don’t pay rent. She is letting you stay there out of crazy lust. She obviously has just as many issues as you do. Let’s call it what it is, you are having a slumber party with your stalker.

I am curious as to why he doesn’t try to stay with a family member.  He claims that his Mom doesn’t have room in her house because his sisters children live there.  They get wild and he can’t handle it.  Why isn’t his sister taking care of the children, you ask? Well, it’s because she is a crack head. And the multiple children are also crack babies. HIS WORDS. This is his flesh and blood that he is calling crack babies. I don’t know the medical term for it but I’m sure there is one, and it has to be a lot less derogatory.  I know Doctors aren’t delivering newborns saying “Congratulations! You’re a proud mother of a sick crack baby!”

This just is not normal.

And I want to remind you, that this is the same guy who said he would walk away from me if I was not up to his physical standards.

The worst is yet to come.

I’m dropping him back off in front of his apartment where he says “I’d invite you in, but my room mate gets really jealous.”  Then he asks me if I kiss on the first date. I say no and he replies “I knew you were the innocent type.”

Gross.

I go home and my mind is reeling from the craziness.  For whatever reason, I have the urge to look him up on facebook, undeterred by the fact that he said he did not have one.

Lo and behold, his face comes up.  I’m thinking, that’s a weird picture. Oh, right, because it is a fucking mugshot.  It is his mugshot as the profile picture, on a HATE PAGE on facebook. What I see blows my mind. It must be some ex that really hates him and is trying to ruin his life. Although, his life is already in shambles.

I search for his public records and to my disbelif, it is true. He was fucking arrested for a sex offense with a victim between the ages of 12 and 15. Holy shit. I messaged the facebook page asking for more information and they replied almost immediately saying multiple girls had come forward between the ages of 11 and 14.  The case is ongoing.

Even if he is somehow innocent, there was enough evidence to bring him into custody!  Innocent until proven guilty, I know. But any way you look at it, he was doing something he shouldn’t have.  I begin having mental flashbacks of the comments on how innocent I seem and the kids candy.  I am nauseous.

He messages me the following day asking when we can hang out again.  I could only think of one thing to say.

“I saw your mugshot.  I wish you were here. Just so you could watch me walk away.”

He messages me close to a year later.  He says his charges were dropped and was hoping to have a second chance with me.

No.

It looks like his charges were dropped from sex offender to felony battery.

I would rather die alone.

 

 

 

 

Desperate Download

2 Oct

Are you a pathetic loser who sucks at dating? Do you often find yourself at home on a Friday night, crying into your ice cream while wondering when Prince Charming is going to save you from the shit-breathing dragon that is your life?  Do the employees at your local Vibrators’R’Us know you by name?  Think of all the money you would save on batteries if you could just get a man in your life.

What’s that you say? You can’t get a boyfriend? Well, I’ve got news for you.  There’s an app for that!

Quit uploading new photo’s on your match.com profile.  With the use of this app, your longtime crush will be uploading his dick in your ass in no time!

I’ll share a few tips with you because I am a wonderful friend, and this is what the world has come to.

photo 1

Tip #1

photo 4

If he smiles back, it means he either likes you or he doesn’t.   Notice his face movements. If he cocks his eyebrows, he thinks you’re fucking weird.  If his nostrils flare, he thinks you fucking reek.  Take a shower for heavens sake.  If he closes his eyes, he thinks you are ugly but is contemplating letting you blow him because it is a known fact that ugly girls give great head.

Tip #2.

photo 7

AN OBVIOUS TIP.  Put a bag over your head.

Tip #3.

photo 8

And by putting your arm around his neck I mean, put your lips around his dick. She did say make him happy, at least as much as you can. Because you’re probably a loser.

Tip #4.

photo 9

If you’re not what society has deemed to be beautiful, find out if he likes dimples. If he doesn’t, VOILA!  You’re on your own.  Probably for the rest of your life.

Tip #5.

photo 10

Do NOT kiss with braces! You will get cut, and die! Some boys might be into it, but God sees it as a big NO NO.

Tip #6.

photo 11

Be as picky as possible.  If he doesn’t meet every trait on your list, forget him.  After all, you’re perfect, right?

*If he is good looking, respect for other peoples feelings is not required.

This app could be filed under the category ‘Useless’.

Tip #6.

photo 12

If you don’t have the nerve to approach a guy who has caught your eye, consider being his stalker.  Start by stalking his facebook photos until you find one where you can Photoshop your face next to his.  Break into his bedroom window and leave the picture on his pillow to let him know you are interested.

Tip #7.

photo 5

Go overboard? I’m pretty sure downloading this app was rock bottom.

Tip #8.

Do not use any of the tips listed above.

The reviews raved about this app.  One girl said that it only took the use of one of these tips to find her boyfriend.  I’m pretty confident it was tip #3.

Signs You’re Incredibly Boring

24 Jul

One of the searches I mentioned in my last post was for signs you’re incredibly boring. Well, why not give the people what they want?

1. The fact that you are searching for signs and symptoms of being a boring blob should raise a red flag.

2. If you take a quiz entitled Do you have a Boring Personality?  then you are a monotonous loser.  It should be insulting enough to your ego to even click on that link.

3. If you have less than 20 contacts in your phone, you are probably a lame ass.  If your incoming call list only consists of calls from your parents and therapist, I pity your soul.

4. If the few friends you do have eat Captain Crunch cereal in your presence just to drown out the sound of your vapid story, you are one boring son of a dick.

5. If you consider spooning to be a sexual activity then you are boring, and kind of a prude.

6. If your last Facebook status was “reading my facebook newsfeed” you are ten kinds of boring.

7. If your idea of a party is a box of wine and a Dr. Phil marathon then you need to change your life. And by changing your life, I mean getting one would be a good place to start.

8. If nobody has ever talked shit about you then you are just too damn boring to talk about. And trust me, people can manipulate any story into front page news of the Daily Trash Tribune.

9. If you are speaking to someone and they continually answer with ‘uh-huh’, ‘true’, ‘okay’, ‘what? I’m sorry I must have dozed off’, then you are most likely killing them silently with your duller than dull attempt at conversation.

10. If most of your clothes look very much alike then your style is blander than a head of lettuce. Seriously, I’ve breathed oxygen that had more taste.

11.  If you read this for a reason other than entertainment value, like say, to see if you are actually boring, well then, you are about as boring and useless as a silent movie at a blind convention.

Boredom comes from a boring mind. -Metallica

Never be bored and you’ll never be boring. -Eleanor Roosevelt.

You’re so Vain: Egoism Explained.

9 May

“I never understand why women think drama and bullshit are attractive to guys. They’re not. I’m going to be real clear about this, ladies, so pay attention: Prince Charming doesn’t come to rescue cunty lunatics.”                 – Tucker Max

Dealing with self-absorbed, pompous, unrelenting narcissists is exhausting. They think everything is about them.  The Sun rises and sets on their accord.  It doesn’t matter how hard you try, they won’t go away.  They’re like Herpes — uninvited and impossible to get rid of.  It doesn’t help that they come in all different forms.

The Blind Braggart:

These Narcissists honestly think the world of themselves.  They love to post self  portraits to any and all social medias, to bless the world with their self proclaimed beauty.    If they are not complimenting themselves, they are shamelessly trying to get you to do so.  They look in the mirror and they see the face of an angel.  We look at them and see what can only be described as a cross between Big Bird and a warthog.  The red lipstick you cake on in your homemade modeling photo’s only alludes to your resemblance of a rabid vampire bat. Stop wasting your time on foundation, eye liner, mascara, and blush.  Use the paper bag you brought them home in.

The Plagued Prima Donna 

The whole world has conspired against this egomaniac, or so they say.  They should like invent some kind of invention to like stop it from raining ever again because then I can fry my hair straight like everyday and I’ll be totally awesome everyday because it’s just so hard being me. These are the dumbest and most annoying kind. They try to hide their insecurity with their overbearing sense of self-entitlement.   Their attempts at gaining sympathy are laughable.  If your life sucks, it’s probably because you suck.  And let’s face it, most of the guys in your town know that you do.  Like the only reason anybody even pretends she’s funny is because Miss WordPress is sleeping with all of the judges.  Make yourself useful, and go suck a dick.

The Evil Egotist:

Possibly the worst of the Narcissistic family, the Evil Egotist chooses to gain self-esteem by bringing others down.  They flaunt their assets hoping to induce envy, when in reality, they are the envious ones.   But they assure themselves anything you can do, they can do better.   They expect everyone to cater to their feelings while showing total disregard for others.  The Evil Egotist is a greedy person willing to do anything to have the upperhand. They would take a cardboard box from a bum.   They would steal the condoms from a prostitute.  They would trample a 3 year old to catch one more glimpse of their reflection in a passing car.  While all the while never realizing that they sing like an angry camel and have a chin like a pelican.

My thoughts and prayers are with you if you find yourself  forced to associate with someone like this.  And if you think this is about you, you probably fall into one of these categories — most likely all 3.

Idiot Traffic Lights do exist.

23 Feb

Idiot Traffic Light

We should all go green.

I know traffic lights are a pet peeve to almost anybody who has had the pleasure of getting on a Highway.  Red lights often make me a reminisce to my first days behind the wheel.  When approaching a red light I would use this as an opportunity to see if my telekinetic powers had kicked in yet; I tried to make the light turn green using my brilliant and unwavering concentration.   Thanks for wasting my time, Matilda.

Today I was running a little late for a lunch date, which I can’t say is unusual for me.   When I finally arrived I apologized and said “I would have been here on time if the idiot traffic lights would get their act together.”  With a smirk he replied he wasn’t aware that traffic lights possessed the ability to be idiots.

Well, I will have you know that traffic lights can most certainly be idiots.  It is a simple concept, actually.

An Idiot Traffic Light is any traffic light that isn’t green when I get there.

I am here for an oil change, not a date.

22 Feb

I am not going to answer

You can call, but I won't answer.

It seems like I can’t go anywhere these days without getting hit on.  Yes, most of the time it is flattering but nonetheless inappropriate.  And also awkward.  I feel the need to tiptoe around town avoiding the guys working in certain places that have blatantly flirted with me.  The most recent occurrence of this really made me laugh at his methods.

I take my car into the dealership I bought it from for service.  They instruct me to go sit in the waiting room until it’s time to surgically remove my arm and leg to pay for the oil change.  I walk in and of course there’s the usual mixture of snacks in a basket, like crackers, cookies, donuts, — anything I shouldn’t even be eyeing if I want to be ready for bikini season.  Eh, fuck it, I grab some peanut butter crackers because they’re free and I might be a nice bitch but I am also a broke bitch.  College is expensive, ya heard? I think I will make that my next post. lol.

In walks this hefty man, I’m guessing around 30 years old.  He kind of reminded me of Randy Jackson.  He asks me what I am waiting for.   Well, I have a dry mouthful of peanut butter crackers and normally I wouldn’t dare speak with my mouth full but every time I walk into this wallet-emptying-hell-hole I seem to say ‘fuck it” a lot more than I usually do.  So, there is no way I can be appealing trying to answer his boring,  just-leave-me-to-my-crackers-and-iphone-please, stupid questions.  Finally, he hands me his card and says he is being paged and has to take care of something important.  Well, aren’t you just Mr. Big Deal?  Thank God, now I can eat my crackers in peace and text my friends how annoying the guy that works here is.

You guessed it, Mr. Big Deal walks back in and sits down on the couch next to me.  You think this may have tipped him off but apparently not — I ask him “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for sitting here with me?  Don’t you have something you should be doing?”  He smirks and replies “Didn’t you read my card?”   Um, obviously not.  So I dig through my suitcase/purse to find the card I carelessly threw in there. A few minutes pass. lol. I pull out his card and read that he is the Sales Manager. Wow, he is a big deal.   And!!! (I know we don’t like excessive use of exclamation points but I am just that excited!!!!) His card reveals his name is “Big John”. HAHAHAHAHAHA. No.  You shouldn’t have a ‘big’ in your name unless you are a Pro Wrestler, Porn Star, or dating Carrie on Sex and the City.   And do I even need to elaborate that it’s on his business card?  The only big part about him is his belly… and his head. He proceeds to ask me how old I am and I tell him to take his best guess. He says 25. And I pretend to be slightly offended and tell him I am younger than that (by a year. lol).

At this Point I am just talking to him solely for entertainment purposes.  He tries to recover from the age insult by saying that I carry myself like a woman on a mission.  Make that a bitch on a mission and I might forgive you.  Then he offers to take me on a ‘test drive’ to help pass the time.  I am playing into his antics now and I tell him bring me the biggest, baddest truck on the lot.   During the short drive, he begins to interrogate me on what I am studying in school, what kind of truck my boyfriend drives, where I like to go for dinner, etc.  As much as I try to steer the subject back to the truck, he puts the pedal to the metal back to the subject of me. Ugh. But, I did end up giving him my number, but only because I am a nice bitch.  I like to tell it how it is but without intentionally hurting others.  But he called me and I never answered.  I don’t think that is the first time that has happened to him.

I just don’t know where these guys get off thinking it’s okay to approach customers in this fashion.  Car salesman have a bad rep as it is.  And now I feel uncomfortable going back there.  I mean, at least if I do see him I will still get some free crackers out of it.

The truth is, I’m flattered that you like me, but insulted that you think you have a chance with me.

Chocolates go on Sale tomorrow!!

14 Feb

Happy Valentines Day!

Love,  the bitchy truth

I’m not single, I am my own Boss.

13 Feb

It’s almost Valentines Day otherwise known as Single-people-can-go-fuck-themselves-because-obviously-nobody-else-wants-to Day.   Clearly,  it’s one of my favorite holidays of the year.  Between the flowers, candy, and other overpriced bullshit, I can hardly contain myself.  If you can smell sarcasm it’s because I’ve been soaking in it.  And it’s not that I’m a lonely old, bag lady.  I’m not jaded. I absolutely believe in love.  I have a heart, even if it is cold.

I just feel that love is misunderstood.  I want to slap people all day because of the mindless, dim-witted, dickshit decisions they make.  And then they want to blame their desperate acts of retardation and rejection on being blinded by love.  Your girlfriend was impregnated by your best friend.  I think it’s safe to say she doesn’t love you, or even like you.  And it’s probably because you’re a low-self esteem, doormat, who can’t say no.  Take a bitch’s advice and hop off that hoe train.  Unfortunately, my advice won’t be taken and they will continue their long, tragic, on and off again, mind torture they call a relationship.  I hope you really enjoy that mess of a broad and banging the cold, worn out cavern gaping between her forever spread legs.  And don’t worry, the clap is totally curable.

If that’s what love is, I don’t want any.

Of course, there are some decent couples out there.  They actually make me sicker than the doormat folk.  But it’s only because life isn’t fair.  Some of us have to wait to find love.  Wait, and wait, and wait, and fucking wait.  But that’s okay, I spend my waiting time being fabulously single, enjoying my freedom to bitch at anybody who crosses my path.  Because while love can be great and all, with love and relationships come rules.  And bitches don’t like rules, unless we are the ones enforcing them.

As soon as you commit to someone things naturally progress into owning one another.  A Marriage Certificate is just a fancy term for Bill of Sale.  Congratulations on your wedding! You’ve just become property.

1. You spend all your time together.  There’s only one person I can spend every second of my life with, and that’s me!  And I can only handle that because I drink a lot.

2. They constantly want to know where you are, what you’re doing and who you are with.   Well since you asked, I’m apparently on a short leash, waving goodbye to my freedom with the warden himself.

3. They think they can go through your phone. Bitch, touch my phone and we are finished. I’ve got way too much to hide.

4. You have to pretend to like what they like.  Golf? I can’t even fake it.

5. They get comfortable with you.  Comfortable is so unattractive. Sweat pants? Burping? Pooping? Absolutely not.   That’s why I always look out for others and try to make them as uncomfortable as possible.

6. You have to buy them stuff.  If I have to buy you a gift to reciprocate you buying me a gift then that counteracts the thoughtfulness of you buying me a gift because we might as well just buy our own shit.  So keep the gifts coming but I won’t be buying you anything because that way what you bought me will mean more.  You don’t have to understand it. Trust me, I’m right.

So, somebody should call the Nobel Prize people because I just disproved the theory that Love is Blind. It’s not blind, it’s stupid.  It’s all heart and no brain.  But there is no denying that it’s out there. Just waiting to get you in its grasp so it can eat your mind and soul.  Happy Valentines Day Bitches!

Then again, maybe love is blind, because it obviously hasn’t seen how incredibly fantastic I am.  All I know is I plan to spend this Valentines Day following my heart and spending it with the person who brings the most satisfaction to my life.  My bartender.

Love can’t be controlled.  You can’t live with it, you can’t live without it. It’s unstoppable. Love is your boss.   And your boss is a BITCH. ya dig?

I am my own Bitch. Game on.

10 Feb

Have you ever gotten too close to a person too quickly, only to realize that they are a psycho, boy-crazed, desperate for attention, bring-you-down coffin of depression? I have. The question for me is, am I ready to call her a deleted scene? I am not sure I am ready to call it quits after all the time I’ve spent training her (that’s another entry). After all, every educated bitch knows to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. But even I have my limits. She has the incredible ability to suck the life right out of you while still portraying the victim. Its uncanny, and I always give credit where credit is due. She absolutely deserves an award for the ability to stick her head so far up her inflated ass that she actually believes her own misconstrued bullshit.

I may be a bitch but I still consider myself a rational person. So, is it possible the problem is that she is better at being a bitch than I am? Has she discovered an entire new dimension of bitch?

No, it can’t be. She’s not that smart.

I think her problem is that she’s evil. Just like there is white magic and black magic; the good bitch and the evil bitch also exist. Like white magic, I only use my gift of bitchiness for good. My sarcasm is like a ray of light shining through a dark cloud. It was even rumored that it had the ability to make a tree smile. It’s common sense that when I tell a friend her gown reminds me of the one my grandma had to wear in the hospital, it’s not because I want to hurt her feelings. It’s because I take the red carpet everywhere I go and I can’t afford to be seen with someone who raided Helen Keller’s closet. I have her best interest at heart.

The evil bitch, on the other hand, is manipulative, unrelenting, and morose. You won’t realize it at first. Even good bitches get duped on occasion. Sooner than later though, you will realize the evil bitch’s goal in life is to make you as miserable and alone as she is. And be forewarned, being the good bitch that you are, you will have the instinctual urge to help this wretched broad. But let it be known, they can not be helped. The evil bitch’s determination to bring you down can’t be destroyed.

And I for one have put up with it for too long. I guess I answered my question… but we will see when I decide to pull the trigger. Maybe she can come back for a guest appearance. But for now, I’d say her goose is cooked. and loose. Because that girl couldn’t keep her legs closed if you broke them and tied them together.

Since I once considered this hot mess a friend, I’m going to do my best to let her down easy. Which shouldn’t be an issue because I’ve heard she goes down easy.

I feel like I’ve put forth as much effort as I can to make this relationship work. It’s like a long break up. Where we are constantly on and off again. That’s not the kind of relationship I’m looking for. We should have just stayed broken up the first time. I wanted it to work. I really did. But sometimes it’s just not meant to be.

Translation:

I’m done being your bitch in this relationship. It’s reminds me of an ugly divorce. You are constantly whining and I am tired of you bringing me down. I deserve better than that. You were always a mistake. I wanted it to work. I really did. But then I realized you’re an evil bitch.

Or maybe I should make things interesting?

The evil bitch made it a competition.

I’m going to make it a good one.

Get on the Bitch Train.

9 Feb

image

I’ve never been fond of introductions. It must be the awkward handshake soon followed by forced conversation. Honestly, I just met you and unless you hold future boyfriend potential, I won’t waste much of my time getting to know you. Some may call it shallow, but I prefer to think of it as good time management.

But everyone needs friends, right? Life without friends is like life without sarcasm. Why bother? But, as it says in the name I’m here to tell the truth even if it makes me a bitch. There are times when I just can’t seem to handle all of my friends pulling me in every different direction. Even after moving to a new place I already feel as though I am at friend capacity. So when some unintelligent life form tries to befriend me, you can bet I try to cut right to the chase. I won’t be flat out mean to the little freak, but it won’t take a genius to realize they bombed their first audition so badly that if my life were a movie I wouldn’t even hire them as a background actor.

Every once in awhile I come across a trouble making douche that somehow managed to fool me into thinking they earned a role in my life. However, it’s not long before that gravy train comes to a screeching halt. They are what I like to refer to as a deleted scene. And as soon as they commit whatever heinous act that reveals their true colors, I’ve got 10 more understudies just waiting for their chance at stardom. That’s where I like to utilize my Friend Wait List. The wait list consists of people I want to socialize with but simply don’t have the time for due to my friend capacity. You’re probably thinking that I am completely immoral and have total disregard for peoples feelings. Yeah, I get it. They are humans with real emotions! Let’s get one thing clear, I treat my friends with the utmost respect and devotion. That is why I had to develop such a unique system. And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to use it. I doubt you ever reach friend capacity, anyway.

And, of course, we can’t forget my costars. These are the friends that have been around the longest and are basically royalty in my book. They’re the ones almost as bitchy as me and always have my back. Sequels will flop without their characters.

So, for those of you looking to reach friend capacity, I’ve found that the best way to make new friends is to get a hobby. I chose drinking. I can assure you I have done plenty of research. Some of my costars can all be traced back to our first drunk encounter. Although, after boarding the crazy train with a nonstop ticket to Drunky Town, I found myself somewhat embarrassed in the morning. I didn’t want my new friend to know I was that much of a train wreck so soon. But no worries! Time and time again, they keep coming back for more. There is just something about peeing in a parking lot together that really creates a bonding experience.

So, drink up bitches! I have a feeling we are going to be great friends.