Folding clothes, cleanly shaven, to the backdrop of pop-punk. Dave needs to stop keeping the Jager in the freezer because it has a tendency to fly out and spill in the most spectacular fashion.
Funny story about Jager actually. Carlos and I were at a country club in the province when this 300-pound cowboy insisted that we try Jager bombs. Neither of us wanted one. We didn’t know what it was, didn’t care, and were perfectly content with our lone Budweisers. It was a Tuesday, what was he thinking?
Well, cowboy orders the bombs for us and we felt obliged. Turns out that a Jager bomb is a variation on my “shut your mouth potion” – which is spiked Guarana Antarctica, but the catch is that you’re supposed to chug a Jager bomb, whereas you don’t chug the potion.
Now, the cowboy told us we needed to do one every 15-minutes, which was crazy, because after three minutes both Carlos and I got the dizzy and had to flee to Denny’s to get some food in our systems. Slept well that night.
