Jors Grodirlssonas was bummed that none of his friends were able to attend his bachelor party.
“All their flights got cancelled. I believe them. They are good mates.”
“I live in a remote area and the flights are sketchy in good weather,” he laughed.
“Nobody came to give me shots. So I drank them myself.”
“No one in town even came over. So I sang bawdy songs by myself.”
“We were going to drink shots in the bars of my little town. OK, it’s one bar. But no one came to drink with me. So I put on naughty hats and sang and drank.”
“I celebrated alone in my house on the mountain.”
“This is my little brother. He felt bad for me, but he couldn’t have shots. He’s too young.”