Andy Cohen Drunkenly Hosts Other Holidays
Labor Day - Here’s what they won’t tell you about Karl Marx: He’s a daddy!
Labor Day - Here’s what they won’t tell you about Karl Marx: He’s a daddy!
I tell stories of humanity. Some about a guy getting drunk in the woods. Others about two guys getting drunk in the woods.
How do these seltzer companies make money in such a saturated market? What gives?
We’ve also shitloaded that thing with, like, 17 green olives from the most overpriced gourmet grocery store we could find.
My job sucks. Why did I think working at a bar next to a port on a western bay that serves a hundred ships a day would be a good idea?
Random people keep jostling you to get to the front of the amorphous blob you’ve been waiting in for 30 minutes.
The May-Decemberita: Sherry with a sprinkle of Molly.
The urinary mishaps of three potty-training boys mingle to deliver this temporally complex white.
Once the chardonnay finishes aging in early 2039, we need a little more labor out of you before your first check.
A shot of rum stirred into a pint of Guinness? Last night I tossed and turned, cogitating on what type of person this drink might fit.
Isolated and idle, alcohol became my only sidekick and I didn’t care if it was shaken or stirred as long as it was in my mouth.
Badly behaving sports fans (A.K.A. “Brood W”) have exploded in population due to their inability to behave in public after their long hibernation.