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Running out of wine is a cunt


Guest nobgobbler

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Guest nobgobbler

Wine. Why do you enjoy it more when you only bought one bottle? Well I've finished the bottle and it hasn't touched the sides. I'm sat here in my dressing gown and novelty mouse slippers that hubby bought me today. Fucking novelty mouse slippers. If you want to impress me just get me a case of wine you cunt. 

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Guest KuntaCunty

Wine. Why do you enjoy it more when you only bought one bottle? Well I've finished the bottle and it hasn't touched the sides. I'm sat here in my dressing gown and novelty mouse slippers that hubby bought me today. Fucking novelty mouse slippers. If you want to impress me just get me a case of wine you cunt. 

 

If a case of wine doesn't impress, nothing will.  When you're right, you're right though, running is a complete cunt.  Especially if it happens after stores shut.  When buying a good wine, you must stock up, but I suggest a good bottle of liquor for emergencies such as this. 

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Guest nobgobbler

What is life when you find yourself in a pair of fuckin novelty slippers, gobbie? Drop a couple of valium, flick yourself off, then shove that empty bottle up your old man's bumhole.

Something needs to happen Frank. They'll be in the bin before the sparrows wake up.

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Guest KuntaCunty

Fucking gut rot. Wine is for fucking piss arse wanker alcholics

 

I must disagree, Del old lad.  How many courting dates have ended in long term relationship bliss, based on good taste, class, culture, and civility by drinking a bottle of catering fuel while viewing internet porn?  Fine wine has always been a part of the coupling ritual, as well as formal dining experiences which one's career could be advanced, families approve of a wedding or go at each other with home made shank weapons.  Always keep a supply of good wine on hand.  You can always move into more potent spirits later, but the wine sets the pace.

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I must disagree, Del old lad. How many courting dates have ended in long term relationship bliss, based on Hood taste, class, culture, and civility by drinking a bottle of catering fuel while viewing internet porn? Fine wine has always been a part of the coupling ritual, as well as formal dining experiences which one's career could be advanced, families approve of a wedding or go at each other with home made shank weapons. Always keep a supply of good wine on hand. You can always move into more potent spirits later, but the wine sets the pace.

Too right, KC. Ale and hard spirits are the sole province of barbarous Germanic types. Give me a good, full bodied Burgundy any day of the week.
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Guest nobgobbler

If a case of wine doesn't impress, nothing will.  When you're right, you're right though, running is a complete cunt.  Especially if it happens after stores shut.  When buying a good wine, you must stock up, but I suggest a good bottle of liquor for emergencies such as this. 

I'm beginning to wish I had taken scotty up on his half bottle of advocat, well, maybe not. 

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Guest nobgobbler

Quite frankly, Ms Gobbler, I'm fucking appalled. There is absolutely no fucking excuse for leaving yourself bereft of pesh. Do you not have neighbours you can scream at until they cough up some Advocaat from the back of their pull down display cabinet? Is there not a booze delivery service in your area; run by a borderline pikey with less business insurance than Ray fucking Teret's Mobile Disco? Don't you have bleach? Man up-or whatever the girlie equivalent is. If, by sundown tomorrow, you're lying in a pool of your own piss* and sick-or, somebody elses- consider yourself forgiven.


*I'll have first dibs on any pissed pants going.

I know, I am a complete disgrace to the kingdom of cuntdon. I manned up and took your advice. The knickers are on their way. We had one of those pull down cocktail cabinets when I was a kid. Art deco it was, with silver cocktail sticks in little holders. All lined with mirrors so you thought you had loads more booze. It was full of my mother's home made beetroot wine, tia maria, southern comfort and babycham glasses - neither of which I was allowed to touch. Didn't stop me nicking a cig out of it once though. I puked my guts up, well I was only 7 at the time. That's one of those numerous useless memories I thought was gone forever. It's a cunt when that happens.

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Its quite funny you lot trying to make out you're experts on wine when I know you lot will drink fucking anything including a fine bottle of turps mixed with brasso and russian aeroplane fuel.

imbecile extraordinaire.

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