Rumor has it that drinking can be dangerous to the health you’re toasting.
Tag Archives: alcohol
Joke #12410
My great-grandfather invented bourbon. But he tested his invention so often that he never made it to the patent office.
Joke #12368
BACHELOR: “Mr. Smith, I want permission to marry your daughter.”
FATHER: “Before I give you my answer, I have to know one thing. Do you drink?”
BACHELOR: “Thanks, but business before pleasure.”
Joke #12283
“Seeing a psychiatrist certainly cured my drinking problem,” a man boasted to his pal. “The sessions cost so much, I can’t afford to buy liquor anymore.”
#10688: Izumo Etsuko -> davepoobond
Izumo Etsuko: sup d00d?]
davepoobond: not much you
Izumo Etsuko: me is buzzed
Izumo Etsuko: 🙁
Izumo Etsuko: (thats on the verge of being drunk)
davepoobond: oo
Izumo Etsuko: Peppermint Shcnapps + Coke = GOOD SHIT
Izumo Etsuko: I’m buzed…and I only had three cap fulls
Izumo Etsuko: o.o
Joke #10662
Q: How do geologists like their scotch?
A: On the rocks.
murashige
murashige – v. to get alcohol out of a turkey
ra’anan
ra’anan – n. an elementary school kid tested for blood alcohol content
Joke #9229
A chemistry teacher wanted to teach his 5th grade class a lesson about the evils of liquor, so he produced an experiment that involved a glass of water, a glass of whiskey and two worms. “Now, class. Observe the worms closely,” said the teacher putting a worm first into the water. The worm in the water writhed about, happy as a worm in water could be.
The second worm, he put into the whiskey. It writhed painfully, and we derive from this experiment?” the teacher asked. Johnny, who naturally sits at the back, raised his hand and wisely, responded, “Drink whiskey and you won’t get worms.”
Joke #9149
One night a man – who was in no shape to drive – wisely left his car parked and walked home. As he was walking unsteadily along the road, he was stopped by a policeman.
“What are you doing out here at 2 A.M.?” said the officer.
“I’m going to a lecture.” the man said.
“And just who is going to give a lecture at this hour?” the cop asked.
“My wife.” said the man.
The George Carlin Theory
The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A Death. What’s that, a bonus? I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first, get it out of the way. Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you’re too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alcohol, you party, you get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating. . .you finish off as an orgasm.
USA: College Drinking Out Of Control
I found this somewhere.
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Drinking alcohol has been around for as long as we can remember, but it isn’t until now that we realize the fatal effects and consequences of this horrific drug.
Drinking excessively can do many things to our brain that make us loose control of our body. You can’t think, walk, or even talk right. There are three parts of the brain that are effected while drinking; the cerebrum, cerebellum, and the medulla. The cerebrum controls recognition, vision, reasoning, and emotions. Drinking at only .01-.30% can damage and control these emotions. Next is the Cerebellum, which coordinates movement like walking. This is effected at .15-.35%. Last is the medulla, which is effected when someone drinks more than their body can handle. It controls heartbeat and breathing and can make them stop at levels as low as .30%. The effects of drinking at these levels are horrible. The short-term effects that most intermediate drinkers get are hangovers, which may include a headache and maybe still some uncordination. The things that most people overlook are the long-term effects, which effect your liver, lungs and nervous system. Whether drinking effects you in the long run or in a short-term way, the fact it that drinking alcohol will effect you no matter what.
When people think about drinking, they usually know the afterward effects, but they usually forget about the consequences of it. While being drunk, you usually cannot control your actions the way you to. Last year, 600,000 college students were assaulted by another who was drinking, and another 70,000 college students were sexually assaulted. Also, 400,000 college students had unprotected sex because of intoxication. This leads to many things like pregnancy and diseases like HIV, STDS. Since drinking controls most of your actions and thoughts, there is much violence and academic consequences. Over 25% of the people that drink in colleges have damaged property and/or have academic consequences. When college students drink, they don’t even think about death, but the truth is that when you are drunk, you can pass out, throw up, choke on your own vomit, and die. There are many other ways of death as well. Last year, 2.1 million college students drove under the influence, and another 1,400 students die a year from alcohol related injuries. 150,000 other students tried to commit suicide because of drinking. College students shouldn’t drink if they don’t know that the effects are sexually transmitted diseases, property destruction, and even death.
College drinkers are the largest portions of drinkers in the U.S. Controlling college drinking would control the rest of societies drinking. And since alcohol is the biggest drug used by college students, then if they stopped drinking, it would stop at least 50% of drugs used. The fact is that college drinking is out of control, and if you can stop that, you can stop drug abuse everywhere.
Adman’s Hangover
woow, I am hung over because i drank a bottle of wine last night
fub fub fub fub
oi
wubwubwubwubwub
hehehe
I sound like that crab from that show, Futurama
I’m not having fun being hung over. nooo
I have a headache
and another
and another
and heres one i just found
My mouth is dry, my pee is green, my eyes are soar, my peener is hardly funcioning, I woke up before I knew something about a railroad, and I’m ummmmm, unhappy
That dream was coool
I was some little boy, and my father was sending me away on a kayak
Well
After the shooting, or it was at a school or somthing and i got a few meters off the shore and soemthing happened and i got upgraded to some really nice train but i pushed it, and it was horse driven and the track split up ahead. I hit my cat, but she was ok, but it wasnt my cat. It was something else. I dont know what cuz i woke up damn phone. Dreams are soo cool, I wish I could finish a dream once in a while I wonder what it would look like.
Would there be credits??
The Janitor’s Great Adventure
The first time I saw the lady, I knew my life was over. But why start the story at the end? Let’s start from the beginning…
It was Saint Patrick’s Day, and everyone was drunk. That’s when I was made. Ain’t it grand? Anyway, I got born. Momma said I’d be a good janitor. Dadda said that I’d make a good towel rack. So I did what I thought I should do for a career. Be a janitor. Momma always liked it when I helped her work at home. She was a homework maker. The type of person that makes homework worksheets for schools and lazy teachers to use when they didn’t want to make their own.
Annnnnyyywayyy….my parents named me when I was old enough to go to college, even though I would never go to college. They named me after their favorite restaurant. Burger King. Burger King was a strong, forceful name, Dadda said. Dadda never married Momma. That meant Dadda could go out and hump the grass whenever he wanted. Dadda and Momma wanted to get married, but unfortunately, they were waiting for me to make income before they could use my money to get married, and give 5 dollars to all the dancers that would come. They were planning a grand marriage. One that would never come, because a freak accident happened to them. An invisible man came over and chopped their heads off, while they were getting stoned.
Poor unfortunate parents…
ANYWAY. I got hired at a school, and was treated with respect, people were so nice to me, saying hi to me then walking away laughing. I’m glad I made them happy. I think it was my smell that did it.
One day, I heard a rumor from one of the loser kids I became friends with, and sometimes buy alcohol for so he can give to other people, that a teacher was all high on heroin, and was raped 56 times up the ass. Of course it was a rumor, it wasn’t true…
Or was it?
I will never forget that day…February 31, 2009. You may say “hey wait a minute, February doesn’t have 31 days!” Well, I say to you “WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG!!!!!!” In the year 2009, the inhabitants of Bahrain got pissed off that February only had 28 days, and 29 days for some years, that they made a proposition at the United Nations to change that. Europe was in an outrage, and so was the Americas. But, China and India got behind Bahrain. The world made war on itself over the issue. Eventually a smart man said, “lets jus thave 31 days in February.” And everyone said, “ok” and stopped fighting. Treaties were signed, movies were made, history book writers were bored, and everyone went back to their boring old jobs.
Besides the fact that only a puppy lost his life from natural causes during the war, it was about time that…um…whatever…
Anyway, that teacher I told you about? 9 months after I heard that rumor, I saw her wobbling down the hallway, all fat and shit, and she shoulda been teaching her damn fangled Social Studies class. That bitch. She was screaming something about her water breaking to me, but I looked at the drinking fountain and it looked fine to me. Then she shook me by the collar screaming, “take me to the hospital, you assholeeeeee!!!”
I never been to a hospital, so I grabbed her, and got into my janitor car thingy, and shoved her in it too, driving down the main road in town, hoping to find the thing she was talking about.
I saw a big blue sign. Momma said that hospitals have big blue signs so I assumed it was the hospital, so I drove through the windows but when I crashed through it, everyone was sitting down at tables…eating pancakes…since when did hospitals have pancakes? But…I was wrong. Dead wrong.
The teacher was pissing all over the place, tossing baby poop, baby pee and babies all around the place,and people got pissed off and threw up, and tossed their pancakes at the waiters. Of course the waiters were getting mad, so the waiters charged the customers more money. We were smack dab in the middle of an IHOP. Don’t blame me, I’m just a janitor…
The End.
The Sad Pallet
Once upon a time there was an artist. He was an Impressionist that seemed to paint the saddest looking paintings when he used a particular pallet. He nicknamed the pallet George Jatus Sicklehymer Smit III, but for short, George.
George wasn’t really ever happy. He wasn’t popular in school, got bad grades, and didn’t get his first thumbing until he was 25. George was the saddest pallet in the world, and when the artist painted with him, the saddest shades of every color on him came out on the canvas.
One day, in the pallet box, Jonathon Ronald John Esquire (John for short) and Elizabeth Louise Patrick (Lizzy for short) were all sitting around drinking alcoholic paint. John and Lizzy had been going out for about 15 years, and often got their paint mixed up on each other, (if you know what I mean) and George often envied them, because he wanted to mix pain with someone, too.
So John and Lizzy, knowing how sad George was, thought they should help him out a bit. They thought it would be good for George to go to the paint store, and check out the teenagers. We all need some under-aged love sometimes, y’know. George thought about it, and decided to go along with what they suggested. As soon as George left, John and Lizzy made a mess of paint. There was so much paint dripping and squirting, it was nasty to watch.
Anywayyyy! George went to Mr. Rosebud’s Paint Shoppe. There were a lot of nice pallets and he liked the way their holes looked. He met a simple 15 year old pallet named Sandra. Sandra was actually a whore, but George didn’t know that, even though she had a tag that said “Whore Paint Supplies” and was priced at $8.99 without tax. It may give the impression that she was $8, like those damn corporate businesses want us to think, but its really $9! They think they can trick us with their sly methods of deceiving!
So then George and Sandra squirted some paint around (if you know what I mean) and when George found out Sandra was a whore, he shot her, then shot John and Lizzy and the artist. George was finally happy, as he was carted off to an art school.