The drunk guy at the end of the bar...

Since we can’t go to any bars, say what your pet(s) are currently doing, but refer to them as “the drunk guy at the end of the bar”.

Here’s mine:

The drunk guy at the end of the bar is passed out under the Christmas tree.

And the other drunk guy at the end of the bar is crying for snacks.

The drunk guy at the end of the bar does not exist because if I had a drunk guy at the end of the bar I would slap myself because having a drunk guy at the end of the bar is a waste of money.

(Great thread idea by the way...it will be funny!)

I had 7 dates with the drunk guy at the end of the bar before they let me take him home for keeps. He’s now getting used to a back rub and likes to sit on my lap but is so grumpy at bedtime.

The post that was quoted here has been removed

The drunk guy at the end of the bar...
was found passed-out in a rather rank smelling dustbin just outside. How he was able to climb in is a mystery. Most think that he had a little local assistance. He's a happy lapper now but avoids confined spaces.

The drunk guy at the end of the bar was a farm guy and he became unwell. He was shot in head and is now buried at the foot of one of the apple trees in the wild orchard behind our house. The grave is unmarked except for a small flowering shrub.

@Mercury

😳

Remind me not to get "unwell" near you.

The drunk guy at the end of the bar was found abandoned and half starved in a box in Bootle. As soon as she got her strength back she beat up the resident drunk and took over her favourite perch on the back of an armchair.

The drunk guy at the end of the bar is wearing an anti-scratch neck collar, he looks sadly into his beer and then even more sadly into his hollowed crotch area. Later our eyes meet and his sense of loss is excruciating. I offer my best and most soothing “good boy”. He looks away.

@hakima
My daughter has a bad habit of bringing home the drunk guy at the end of the bar. This has happened on several occasions. She has since moved out, taking a couple of the inebriated fellows with her, but leaving me and my wife (who seems to like them) with the rest. I must confess, I have allowed them to stay, but at a dear price - castration. Anyways, there remains seven of them (an eighth has been taken in by the neighbors) forced to live out in the steel building, though two insist on coming into our house whenever the entry door is opened. Most are milling around outside right now, waiting for a handout, but I'm sure one or two are dozing on the couch or armchair, or even a towel rack or odd cardboard box they can find.

@ktadaddy said
@hakima
My daughter has a bad habit of bringing home the drunk guy at the end of the bar. This has happened on several occasions. She has since moved out, taking a couple of the inebriated fellows with her, but leaving me and my wife (who seems to like them) with the rest. I must confess, I have allowed them to stay, but at a dear price - castration. Anyways, there rema ...[text shortened]... or two are dozing on the couch or armchair, or even a towel rack or odd cardboard box they can find.

@hakima said
Since we can’t go to any bars, say what your pet(s) are currently doing, but refer to them as “the drunk guy at the end of the bar”.

Here’s mine:

The drunk guy at the end of the bar is passed out under the Christmas tree.

And the other drunk guy at the end of the bar is crying for snacks.

@mercury said
The drunk guy at the end of the bar was a farm guy and he became unwell. He was shot in head and is now buried at the foot of one of the apple trees in the wild orchard behind our house. The grave is unmarked except for a small flowering shrub.

the drunk guy at the end of the bar wants his beer served in a bowl