*Beep*
Heyyyyyyyyyayayayayayayayyyyyyyyayay.
*Hiccup*
It’s ME your Happy Hour!
*Chortle*
I’ve been thinking. Let’s CHANGE this stupid dumb name they gave me. Nobody likes HAPPY if people liked HAPPY they wouldn’t watch TV shows called “Naked and Afraid” or “Fear Factor” or “Sister Wives”. Let’s make this INTERESTING. I did a list of namer changer thingies and they’re magical okay love you HERE we GO:
*Hiccup*
-Sharon’s Boyfriend Joined A Nudist Colony In The Galapagos Again Hour.
-It’s Far Too Early For You To Be Staring At My Ass, Sir. Hour.
-Barre? Ohhhh I thought you meant Bar! Hour.
-Infiltrate the Roasted Cashew Supply Chain Hour
-Suffer Through Your Boss’s Grand Teton Anecdote Hour
-Tequila Has Antioxidants I Read It In A Buzzfeed Article Hour
-Couldn’t Afford Full Price Drinks If I Tried Hour.
-We’ll Only Go For An Hour! Hour.
Let me know what you think, okay? This is IMPORTINABLE. Okay?! Call me backkkkkk.
*Beep*
Now I’m special and you’re special and I’m definitely special and you’re very super special so WHY didn’t you order the $6 cocktail special I made just for you at Tradesman?!? It’s SPECIAL for a reason!
*Burp*
*Beep*
Did that Hinge guy with the foot fungus collection and the attached earlobes ever call you back? I liked him.
*Beep*
Remember that time you had five coffee slushies at Skinny Dennis and stayed up until 7am naming and making Tinder profiles for all twelve half empty cartons of Halo Top in your freezer?
*Beep*
Let’s start our own reality TV show where the contestants are trapped in a subway car and have to make a gourmet meal out of everyone’s random snacks. We’ll make millions of dollars and never have to stand around the bar like vultures waiting to swoop on a table again. What do you think??
*Beep*
Will you call the Official Time Committee and ask them if they’re really really really really REALLY sure it’s 3am? Cause I wanna one of those $6 strawberry rosemary gin thingies from Tabare right NOW. Wait. Wait. Do I *Hiccup* get special happy hour privileges? DO THEY KNOW WHO I AM??
*Beep*
Just a polite reminder that if you take that Tinder date to Pianos tomorrow don’t inhale all the nachos before he even has a chance to tell you “He’s not really looking for anything serious right now”.
*Beep*
Let’s ditch the date and go to Mother’s Ruin so we can get that frito pie and you can finally ask the bartender with the pickle tattoo out.
*Beep*
*Snore*