Well Peg we all have to live with our disappointments. I, of course has to sleep with mine
Pretty women make us buy beer, ugly women make us drink beer
These are sevens. The box says nine because well... lady, you're a nine. Now I can accept that. Why can't you?
Why don't you follow me down the brewery, I'll tie a bowling ball to my ankle, dive in a vat of beer, I'll leave this world the same way I entered my marriage. Dead Drunk!