My husband drinks Jagermeister sometimes. I tell him it’s the alcohol equivalent of farting in bed. He says I’m just not used to this level of sophistication. Tonight, I caught him with a lime green plastic “Pineapple Willy’s” shot glass full of Jager and a large spoon of ice cream. I’m not saying its time for divorce, but maybe there’s a finishing school for husbands out there.
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