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The sophistication level at a cocktail party is directly proportional to the number of people using words like "boujee" and "artisanal." I just want to enjoy my drink without feeling like I accidentally stumbled into a thesaurus.
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At cocktail parties, they always have those fancy toothpick appetizers. It's like playing culinary Jenga trying to get that bacon-wrapped scallop without causing a delicious disaster. Call me old-fashioned, but I miss the simplicity of a chip and dip.
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Have you noticed that at cocktail parties, the music is always just loud enough to make small talk unbearable? I'm sorry, Susan, I couldn't hear you over the smooth jazz rendition of "Happy" playing in the background. What's that? No, I don't think Pharrell would approve.
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Have you ever been at a cocktail party where the host is so proud of their signature drink? "It's a secret family recipe," they say. Yeah, Karen, it's called a margarita mix with a splash of "I hope my in-laws leave early.
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You ever notice how at cocktail parties, everyone turns into a mixologist? Suddenly, your friend Steve, who can barely make a sandwich, is crafting a cocktail masterpiece like he's auditioning for a role in "Cocktail 2: Electric Boogaloo.
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There's always that one person at a cocktail party who thinks they're a stand-up comedian. They grab the mic and start telling jokes like they're auditioning for Last Comic Standing. Meanwhile, the rest of us are just hoping for a refill on our drinks to numb the pain.
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Cocktail parties are like adult treasure hunts. You're given a tiny glass, and your mission is to find the elusive combination of ingredients that makes you forget about your Monday morning meeting. Spoiler alert: It's usually at the bottom of the third glass.
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I love how at cocktail parties, people pretend to know the difference between a Cabernet Sauvignon and a Merlot. Let's be real, most of us just want a wine that doesn't taste like regret and has a label we can pronounce.
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You ever notice how cocktail parties turn into impromptu therapy sessions? One minute you're sipping on a mojito, and the next, you're sharing your deepest fears with a stranger named Chad, who happens to be an expert in existential crisis intervention. Cheers to unexpected emotional baggage!
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Cocktail parties are the only place where people judge you based on the ratio of olives to vermouth in your martini. I just smile and nod, pretending I have a refined palate, when in reality, I'm wondering if they have any snacks that aren't bite-sized and covered in pesto.
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