Cow-Orkers XVI: Starkbier!

My married-with-kids colleagues, annoyed last night that we couldn't get into the strip club because the doorman didn't like the fact that I was wearing Adidas and not Florscheims or Ballys, are now thanking me. Under the cold light of sobriety they realise that had we indeed gone in, they'd be regretting this morning a lot more than they otherwise do with just the two liters of Starkbier each one drank last night. I'd had three; maybe I was a bit wobbly, too.

Strip club poll.
x-posted to da brog.

BUT I AM. NSFW

In an effort to keep the meme alive, I humbly submit the following entry;

CALLA'S MOM-- STOP READING HERE.

My wife's boobs have become jugs.

She's always had a sweet rack, but her bosom has become especially scrumptious now that it's in the dairy bar business. It's like a temporary breast augmentation without silicone, and I admit that the change speaks to me on a basic level.