The AA meetings didn't help Marge at all. She couldn't seem to get alcohol off her mind.
What the hell am I talking about? I'm pretty much sloshed all the time!
Satan's bachelor party.
Call it what you want: School time, 8am, gin-o'clock; Jill loved this time of day!
Molly's large intestine really objected to her drinking.
Another butterbeer, Tom! And a cracker for Polly!
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