So Zach and I headed over to this girls apartment the other night because her host family was out of town. These girls had told us that they had gotten a lot of liquor for the event so we thought could be quite a nice evening. Little did we know.
We showed up thinking we would be greeted with a handle of Smirnoff or some other girly spirits but when we entered the dwelling we came face to face with none other than a bottle of Old Nick’s Coco Punch.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all about trying new things, but the milky-white, watery liquid that the bottle contained looked as it had come out of a disgrunteled camel or prehaps a drunken sorority sister. In short: absolutly nasty.
It was.
For the rest of the night the punishment for any party foul type behavior was a swig of the Old Nick. The first foul was of course the very purchase of the “Coco Punch.” The girls were not happy with this ruling.
Moral of the story:javascript:void(0)
Coco Punch does not equal cheep Malibu, it equals mildly alcoholic breast milk. Exercise caution when dealing with the purchases of women in foreign countries. (For info on the purchasing of women see the upcoming post about travels in the Netherlands)
Cheers
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