The Hunt-Master Beckons Thee

I have bore witness to some wicked drunks on the Jager and I, too, have succumbed to the unadulterated madness that dwells within the green bottle. One hazy night long ago my brother-in-law bought me seven Jager Bombs while we hung out at the worst strip club in Denver. The night concluded when a patron actually took a swing at one of the strippers. While she was still dancing.

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