When a smoker or a compulsive cell phone user continually asks their friends to hold a drink in a bar so that they can participate in the aforementioned activity.
Bar Patron1: Hey, can I bum a hold? I need to light my cigarette.
Bar Patron2: I guess.
Two minutes later.
Bar Patron1: Can I bum a hold. I need to take this call.
Bar Patron2: Really?
The ooze that builds up on each corner of the mouth of that creepy neighbor that talks to much and prevents you from getting anywhere on time.
I ran into Mr Smith today and after an hour of him telling me about his cats urinary tract infection, I couldn't keep my eyes off his flap juice. spit gross
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