Peter, your birthday was like 4 months ago, man. At least stop smoking 3 cigars a day.
Sam, it’s cool if you wanna blaze, but you’re never not high. Get your shit together.
Warren, my God, when was the last time you slept? Your girlfriend’s called like 8 times and…do you even have a phone anymore? No, the soda can you’re holding doesn’t count as a phone. Christ.
Frederick, you now owe me over 200 dollars for the cable, electric, and beer. What? No, for the 10th time, you can’t pay me in pizza slices. Dude, this is it, you gotta move out.
Holy God, Carrie. You’ve now successfully turned the weekend bender into a two week full blown alcoholic success. You keep rubbing your nose, stinking of booze and showing up late literally every day. HR is not happy, bro…no, i don’t want your dealer’s number. Now stop trying to sleep in the bathroom, man.
Larry, man, you already have enough issues in your life. Can we at least give up smoking? Also Karen’s wedding was over a month ago, take off the fucking tophat.
Steven, you’re so high you can’t even keep your eyes open. Just know that we’re seriously disappointed in you.
Trey, you haven’t been home in days. And quit saying, “the beach is my new home, brah.” It’s not, you live in Anaheim, dude.
Emily, we’re not judging you on the whole unemployment thing, constant Battlestar Galactica marathons or being severely overweight, it’s seriously just your tobacco intake. And, of course the amount of pot you’re smoking. How can a basset hound run through half an ounce every two days and be the brokest dog we know.
Willy, we’re proud of you. Keep doing you. Merry Christmas, you drunk clown.