donāt look at the swimming pool ā¦
You ladies can keep your rum. Just donāt touch my Becherovka!
Itās just hidden.
I didnāt drink it all, honest, nope.
It was a band of pirates, yeah, thatās the ticket.
Last night, when my ship came in. Yeah.
The parrot drank a lot too.
Yeah, thatās the ticket.
The Parrot owes me money.
Ah hah! First shipment is here!
Tell āim to stop waterinā teh rum! <hic>
Whereās that half-bottle of warm gin I hid securely stashed behind the Bukowski section of the bookshelves?
Still behind the Bukowski section of the bookshelves. Why do they never lookā½
Oh. Hmm. Oh.
OK, there it is. Where are there beard trimmings on the mouth of the bottle, and an odor that is more of BO and musk than that of juniper?
Hmm. Well, I should have some more around somewhere. Oh!!!
The hollowed out book of Under the Volcano! Yes, there must be!
I donāt even like ginā¦it justā¦there was a lot of it that Iā¦āplaced in strategic locations.ā
Shaken, not stirred !
Aerating the wine, boss!
Shaking the bushes, boss!
Smoking in bed in a prone position, boss!
The new Kate Bush. Welcome to 2023 bingo!
Squaaaantoooooo!
Uh, sorry. Sometimes Frankās tragedy just hits me out of nowhere.
But I know how to take care of that.
Says you and my Fitbit
Itās Delrin Day already?
OK, everybody contribute to the pick jar. And no gorilla snot or any of that jazz.
I mean, the Vanilla Ice track is barely a minute long.
And I donāt know that Bobby Brown created the term.