A patio bar with funky rooms and an outdoor disco with bad wiring sounds pretty damn good right now. THIS IS MY PATIO, JIMMY, GODDAMNIT. Fuck you.
I guess this is really more of a ‘Fuck you, Key West’ post, or maybe really ‘Fuck us, Minneapolis’…
Why don’t we get drunk and screw…
Because I don’t like spending all my disposable income on ballet lessons and American Girl dolls. Thanks for the advice, Jimmy Buffett. Oh, and fuck you.
Look, I’m a bartender. Making frozen margaritas is a pain in the ass, and I make them exclusively for sorority girls and cougars. Neither group tips worth shit.
Do you also have a song about Long Island Iced Teas? Fuck you, Jimmy Buffett.
My front walkway has looked like this for three months, and will for another three. And you think you’ve got island fever? Fuck you, Jimmy Buffett.
Down to the Banana Republics go the expatriated Americans hopin’ to find some fun. Funny, where I live, the Banana Republics are staffed by lazy wannabe male models and chicks with MFAs in Art History. Not to mention the pants never seem roomy enough. Fuck you, Jimmy Buffett.
I have never been to Paris, and as for my life - more like 35 years of perpetual bullshit.
Why don’t we get drunk and screw?
Changes in latitudes? I get two weeks’ vacation and I gotta use most of it to visit my folks in Nebraska. Fuck you, Jimmy Buffett.