Tag Archives: Jack Daniels

Drink


As I sit here drinking rum

at ten-thirty in the morning,

I begin to wonder if maybe

I might be a pirate by the time the bottle’s gone.

Wouldn’t that be ideal?

There certainly seems to be

a goodly number of drunk men

thinking they are Superman….

I can see the commercial for it now.

No need for higher learning!

Drink what you want to be!

Like, if you long to be a cowboy,

break out the Jim and Jack!

You’ll be whoring and meeting your enemy

at high noon in no time!

You aspire to be a great writer, you say?

Well, what kind of writer do you wish to be?

Do you wish to write brilliant

yet depressingly dull fiction?

Hemingway preferred absinthe.

Mind the green fairy, though.

She may put a shotgun in your hand

and bid you blow your brains out.

You have a journalistic edge?

Wild turkey was Hunter’s poison.

(I do wonder if maybe you might

just turn into a turkey if you drink that though.)

Wouldn’t it be grand?

If instead of just being called an alcoholic,

you could be called Marilyn Monroe?

What if you constantly drink vodka?

Will you turn into a Russian anarchist?

I’m not sure all Russians endorse anarchy,

but there sure seems to be

a hella lotta movies portraying them that way.

The question really is….

if you drink sea water,

are you actually a mermaid?

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Filed under Beauty, Entertainment, Humor, Life, Poetry, Uncategorized

A Nightmarishly Late Birthday Present


In honor of HR Nightmare’s aging, I shall bestow upon him gifts worthy of his Vampire self. I realize I’m very late in the bestowage.

Firstly, Jack Daniels (and a girl’s crotch). To get the party started.

A mirror, because when you look into it you won’t be able to tell how old you are, because you are a partial vampire. So then you can laugh.

Cleavage, because what straight man doesn’t want to see that. (I’m sorry, it’s not mine.)

Beautiful stillettos, because H.E. says you look good in them, and hey, if you wanna dress like a chic, it’s your birthday. (I picked green because that’s kinda manly, right?)

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Filed under Friendship, Humor, Life, Uncategorized

I’m Glad You’re Not Dead Yet, Chris Meloni


Dear Hottest Chris,

I’ve been searching for the perfect way to wish you a happy Entrance Into the World Day.

Since you entered this world in only the skin of your beautiful self, it seems only right that you spend your Day of Birth in exactly the same state.

That being said, I would be more than willing to come to you if you are at all uncomfortable travelling in the nude. I need only be invited.

Firstly, I would like to present to you this bottle of Jack Daniels as a birthday gift. Of course I haven’t slipped in a whole supply of Mickeys so that you will be rendered unconscious and I can ravage your naked body with no resistance. How silly of you even to think that I would do such a thing. Too, I have included a very cliche’ red rose as a symbol of my passionate feelings for you.

Secondly, I would like to present the cake I shall be jumping out of. In honor of your special day, I have decided to arrive in said cake in the exact amount of clothes you shall be sporting. Plus heels.

I was thinking, after I have jumped out of your specially-designed giant cake, you would maybe like to receive a full body massage with edible massage oils. I would make certain to include the special Triple-D massage technique wherever it is requested. After all of your hard places have been rubbed soft, (heehee) I would be more than willing to lick your deliciously-muscled bod clean of any wayward flavored oils.

As I’m quite sure you will be sleepy by this time, (because of the massage, NOT because of any Mickeys I haven’t slipped into your drink) I feel it would only be fair for me to allow you time on your day to lay down and take a nap. Therefore, I would make sure that you are positioned nicely in your bed before you pass out fall asleep.

While you are passed out resting, I would only do things to you that you would allow me to do while you were awake, like: nibbling your nipples, rubbing your feet, stroking your manhood, giving you a head massage, and massaging your hands with my boobs.

After your birthday nap of ten or 12 hours, I would be more than willing to stay in your home as a French maid; I promise you shall be amazed at my dominatrix   cleaning skills.

That being said, I would like to point out that I am daily amazed that at your age of fifty-one, you still have the ability to make my panties wet just by scowling.

Love,

Sparklebumps

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