Nov 6, 2018
Annoying Question #8
Whats your strongest drink?
We are a bar. We have many drinks. Be an adult and tell me what drink you want.
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Annoying Question #8
Whats your strongest drink?
We are a bar. We have many drinks. Be an adult and tell me what drink you want.
Grampa: Hey sweetie, can I ask you something real quick? *takes out his phone*
Me: Sure, what's up?
Grampa: What's a Earl?
Me:
Me: W-what?
Grampa: Earl. They're on the computer.
Me:
Grampa: On the Google when I open up my banking, Willa (his friend) said there's a Earl so I can save my bank website so I don't have to type it in all the time. What's Earl?
Me: Earl?
Grampa: The Earl.
Me:
Me: Y..you mean URL?
Grampa: It's Earl. *points to the address bar on his mobile web*
Me: Papa, that's the URL..
Grampa: Willa says it's the Earl.
Me: *in my mind* Willa's 62.
Me: *irl* Nah it's an acronym, it stands for Uniform Resource Locator, every site has one. It's like an address.
Grampa: I think it's actually called Earl.
Me: Okay.
Grampa:
Grampa: So is that my new bank?
Finished my Physiology final and I need a Margarita stat.
I'm finally feeling like it's okay to break into a thousand pieces no one can replace only I can find my way It's been long day And I just want to hideaway It's been a long year And Everyone around me's disappeared It's been a long year And all this mess around me's finally cleared So can I have a moment just to say hello Can you let your anger go? It's been a long year And I'm feeling ready to be here...
All I've Got to Say is Make it Strong; Duke & Gabrielle
Most kept their drinking to a schedule much like the rest of their lives; golf on Tuesdays, beer on Tuesday to Friday, take-out on Mondays, hard stuff on the weekend. And Gabby thought these people were downright stupid. Organizing your life was only one of many ways to waste it away, and she didn't plan on only allowing her favourite liquid concoctions on Saturday because "society" (which she consistently pointed out was expressed as so-sigh-ity because the restrictions made you sigh) said it was good and proper. So a late-night Sunday escapade - which would promptly be followed by early work on the farm the next morning with a pounding headache, no doubt - sounded absolutely fantastic.
It hasn't taken her long to sashay into the Outlaw's barstool with her normal spunk, berating a few regulars with a grin before she did so. The first hour seemed to swing by like an existential arm had reached out from the firmament and twisted the clock's hands with a quick jerk of their wrist. There was a bit of tequila on the bar, a little salt on her cheek, and a few outrageous peels of laughter leaving her vicinity, but she was having a good time - evidently, as was everyone around her. The man beside her had challenged her to an arm wrestle, and much to the dismay of her challenger (and the elation of everyone who had gathered around) she'd won, and been bought a free round of beers as a trophy. Her lithe legs swinging freely, she turned to the row of patrons beside her with a wicked grin. "Any more challengers?"