StumblingFillies

  Cali is an ordinary California girl. She loves to get drunk on fruity cocktails. But, she has a secret. She’s a superhero, Marvelous Girl. Cali can only become Marvelous Girl when she has alcohol in her system. Whenever she transforms, her breasts become bigger, her stomach and face leaner, her skin perfectly tanned. One thing that doesn't change is her sobriety. No, Marvelous Girl is never sober.

 A repost of mine from BB. On the heels of her admission, “ “I’m THAT drinker that can go weeks without drinking, and then just one night drink every single bit of alcohol in sight,” comes her now Album “THAT drinker.”  Early reviews say it will be a country classic, right in there with George Jones' “White Lightning.” Rumor has it the recording session was one of those nights. If so, that means it was very similar to when the possum recorded White Lightning, with Carley bending her elbow more than the guitar strings, yet somehow recording the song.  http://www.cmt.com/news/1847587/carly-pearce-shares-random-fun-facts-about-herself-before-show-with-kenny-chesney/

  Kitty, Nacre Victoire. Gamer, Stoner, heavy drinker, hot girl. And your girlfriend. Today for 420, she took the day off. She got up early, so that by 4:20am she was drunk and high.  “Happy fourtwenny, babe,” she slurred, as she leaned on the computer desk, current joint smoldering in the other hand. “Sure looks that way. How wasted are you?” you ask. “Almose off my assss,” Nacre answers you, as she trunks and sits in her chair, taking another drag of her joint. “Can you shake your wasted ass for me?” “Surrre,” and she begins to do so. A few minutes later, “Iddizzz sooo fuggin' hod in here.  Helb me taze my sweass off.” You obliged her, and help your wasted girlfriend, coupling a few feels as she stumbles as you assist her. Once off, you help her back into her chair, telling her, “Shake your ass again.”  She does. She shakes her ass and takes a couple more drags of her joint, before she turns, and unsteadily pours another glass of whiskey, which she drinks, ...

  Stefani was a lady Revinuior. She didn’t mind you making and selling moonshine, so long as the IRS got its take, and she got to drink for free. Lately, the g-men and t-men where after more than just pappy's White Lightning, they were after Marijuana. Stef, as she liked to be called, had no problem with the growing or selling of weed, so long as the IRS got its take, and she got to toke for free. See, she’d just let you call your moonshine holy water, and your weed tobacco, and turn a wasted eye to it in exchange for letting her get wasted. Her most recent audit had been the Pettimore farm in East Tennessee. She’d got good and stoned in DC before grabbing an uber to a dispensary just outside of Dulles. There she purchased and smoked a final joint before boarding hopping a first class flight from Dulles to Knoxville. She couldn’t smoke on the plane, but she sure could get drunk on a plane, even if it was only a short 1 hour 40 min flight. Then she staggered off the plane and to her...

  Rosie makes a good easter bunny. She loves grass, and when she’s high, she gets thirsty. And the best drink is liquor, lots of it. In other words, she’s the stoned, boozed easter bunny. This easter, it's just her and her boyfreind. Drunk and stoned, Rossie bounced up the stairs, leaving a trail of chocolate-weed eggs up the stairwell and into the office. She hippity-hopped up the steps bouncing drunkenly off the walls with her furry pink rabbit ears and matching fluffy tail, delivering tasty treats for her to enjoy later. As she went, at each step, she deposited an egg, and took a sip of rum, or a hit of her joint, of both. Halfway up, the intoxicated bunny stumbled and sat on a step. She slurred, “Timme fer more grazz,” as she pulled out and lit a new joint.