My son would take reusable containers with him to work. He’d leave them sitting in his bag for days before taking them out and putting them in the sink, unwashed. He was a lifeguard. Just try to imagine the smell of leftovers sitting in the sun for several days. I considered sticking his nose in it to break him of the habit, but everybody knows teenagers are untrainable. So we switched to the disposable containers for the sake of adult sanity.
I feel like cutting off some posts of the Pit and adding them to my first sandwich.
Does language have any meaning at all in your world, or is it all just random word generation?
Well, that’s just some cheesy baloney.
I lost a drink in my own home. I’ve examined every horizontal surface very carefully, it’s not on any of them. It had a couple ounces of an Islay single-malt in it, so if nothing else I should be able to sniff it out. It has vanished.
He really should mackdonna handheld shoehorn butterhorse.
I have a very strong hunch this wasn’t the first drink of the day. 
No true scotch-man would mislay his glass! Go forth and search again until you’re done! Detail your efforts to search every cabinet and locker! Be thorough!
Perth!
It’s always a shame to mislay islay.
Oh Christ, what a scumbag.
You can froop that bananaphone.
Nice
I dunno. At least he didn’t see double.
Good point. Somewhere in the 3-5 range.
Smile when you say that, partner.
It’s been years since I lost that drink. There are only so many horizontal surfaces to search. Islay tends to make its presence known, so if it was around I’d know it. Maybe the Langoliers took it.
Amateur. It’s been years that I lost drinking.
I don’t understand. Have you never had a sandwich, such that your first sandwich is a future event? And, are you under the assumption that you’re posting to a print medium, so you can put cut up paper in this theoretical sandwich?
I mean fist, but I must say quite a typo:D