So you've bypassed your usual Saturday yard work, car washing and luckily your wife decided she didn't need to go shopping with all of your money. You think, "Why don't I go all out for a vodka tasting?" Flat fee, flavored vodka, food to soak your booze. Good stuff, right? Wrong! Unless you're Russian, or an unflappable high school junior, splitting a handle with your lacrosse buddies, you can't handle vodka. Not in the midddle of the fucking afternoon. Of course, if your libations are intended to salute hardcore, toothless motherfuckers, passing out, angry expressions and eyebrows/hitler mustaches of chicken skins are to be expected.
Under the guise of tantalizing flavors, the odorless spirit stalks you. Aside, why is bacon so fucking hip right now? If you ask me, the only worthy advancement should be in the direction of making bacon healthy and still tasty. So bacon lovers can continue to adorn their meats and cheeses with 'ye olde fat of back', without catching shit from which ever harbinger of estrogenic buzz killery happens to be sqwaking nearby. Furthermore, nothing truly jackal was ever referred to with the word "essence". The one exception is UNEssence, the aroma of Jackals, soon to be released at cosmetic counters/department stores worldwide. This shit smells like malt liquor, cigar smoke, baby hatred, butt sweat, and the old Head and Shoulders/Selsun Blue. Bitches and cougars alike will be jocking your nuts like Wilford Brimley on a box of Swedish Fish.
So once you see daylight again, the vodka realizes you're attempting to thwart its influence and possibly operate a motor vehicle. Not only is this behavior skrimpish and unjackular, it is a severe health hazard. Let's portend the departure is further complicated by an hour's transit to the nearby, or not so nearby capital of this great nation. Well, friend at that point, you may find yourself verbally meandering for excuses to dodge your evening's plans hurling fecal matter and marking territory with streams of pee. Like a janitor fumbling for a single key in his enormous collection, they spew out, "I think I'll watch the hockey game, I'm in need of a motivational speech, Stomp the Yard in HD, my wife had to go to the emergency room..." Then my friend, once bitch juice runneth over thy cup, resistance is futile. At this point, one may find oneself hanging up on a fellow jackal. Mistake not, this is the "essence" of skrimpture.
Boogers McRib's opinions are consistent with those of JackalsUNF.blogspot.com. Any behavior such as that described above is strictly prohibited by self-proclaimed jackals.