DIY: How To Drink Whiskey
Is this some kind of trick? How to drink whiskey?! Are you kidding me?
“You know how to drink, don’t you? You just put your lips together and suck.”
No shit, Sherlock. Every newborn that ever successfully met a nipple knows that much.
Why do the DIY nut jobs have to overcomplicate everything? I think they got a screw loose.
OK, smartypants. How do you drink whiskey?
Firewater Fireworks
In general, the lower the IQ the greater the thrill from fireworks and twinkly noisy thingies.
Word from the western front arrived early. It was going to be a “heat advisory” kind of a day. We hunkered in our bunkers and prepared for the worst. I put on a pair of clean tighty whities. Because:
To brine thine own self be true.
–Tom B. Taker
I was already looking forward to the salt water sores in my private areas. You know what they say. “Fight ’em over there or in your underwear.” Like always I choose the latter.
Day 1
Sunday night the neighbor set up a table saw in his front yard. He ran that sucker until 11:36 pm. On a work night. I kid you not. I believe this is the exact storyline of the movie Saw.
Day 2
Even more table saw. It was all squee … squee … squee … when the hours were wee.
What every happened to politeness? Basic manners? Please and thank you? All as dead as my peace of mind and peace and quiet.
Two nights of noise in a row. The urge to fling poo was becoming unbearable. Somehow, though, I was able to hold on.
But, little did I know it at the time, those two nights were merely flanking feints. The best was still yet to come.
Boom Shack-A-Lak!
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Drowned By Dribblings
By one definition, perhaps the only one that matters, there are two kinds of people in this world: Those who finish their beverages down to the last drop and those who always leave some behind.
I’m the former. “Never leave a beverage behind,” I’m pretty damn famous for saying.
Some, however, fall for that old wives’ tale that beverage enjoyment abates the deeper you get. Hogwash!
That first icy cold blast of Pepsi or Coke or beer is sublime goodness, right? On the other hand, that pathetic last half inch leftover at the bottom isn’t worth the backwashed-spit that now comprises 42% of its volume.
I guess the big question is this: Are all of those partially-filled glasses left lying around the house “half empty” or “half full?” The correct answer, of course, is: “Who gives a shit? Clean that crap up!”
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Satan’s Game – For the Horde!
Santiaga. The dangerous and sick alter ego of a person running for elected office.
Now this is when it gets interesting. … kerchunk … kerchunk …
The GOP found out that a Democratic candidate for elected office in Maine played a little computer game known as World of Warcraft (WoW).
It wasn’t something the candidate ever tried to hide.
How did the Maine Republican Party respond? By launching a website that seeks to portray the candidate as some kind of a sick freak. They tried to portray her in-game character as a dangerous real life (RL) thing.
Ominous. She’s a level 85 Orc Rogue that specializes in “assassination.” And she likes to stab things! Is that what we need in Maine politics? In the online game she gets away with “crude, vicious and violent” comments.
Maine needs a State Senator that lives in the real world, not in Colleen’s fantasy world.
–Maine Republican Party website
Yeah! I mean why the hell can’t she go out and just get a mistress like a real Maine politician??? Zumba is was more RL than the sick fantasy of WoW, right?
As always, this got me to thinking. What games have you ever played, you sick freaks???
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When the market drops
Note: Due to the upcoming tenth anniversary of 9/11, there will be no “Termination Tuesday” bracketology this week. It will be back again next week. In the meantime I’m actually going to try to behave.
Would you like to play a game? Don’t worry – it’s simple. First we’ll consider a factoid and then we’ll say the first thing that pops into our heads. This is just an idea. Let’s try it once and see what happens.
Ready? Okay!
Factoid: Approximately one-sixth of the human population on this planet does not have access to safe water.
Response: The solution is a new market! We should be charging a whole lot more for water!
Erm? Did we not all come up with the same answer? How odd.
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A birthday present
This coulda been my cup!
The “present” in the post title does not refer to a gift, although this post is about one. No, it refers to a time period as in: past, present, future.
Once upon a time I received the gift of a Starbucks gift card. It was a thoughtful gift even though the nearest Starbucks is something like 40 miles away from my small hometown.
In the course of owning that card, I ended up creating an account on the Starbucks web site. The purpose of which was to determine the balance remaining on the card.
During that exercise I provided Starbucks with certain information about myself, one of which was the date of my birth.
Normally it is usually something pleasant to receive a birthday gift. Starbucks was able to turn it into something else. Read on to learn how.
I received, in the mail, a postcard from Starbucks. They were giving me a “FREE DRINK” for my birthday. How nice. I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised.
That feeling wore off soon enough.
I now read from the Postcard of Starbucks:
You know us. We’d never miss a birthday.
We noticed your Star was shining brighter the other day. Must be time to celebrate your birthday.
Actually, this feels a bit creepy. I don’t really know you that well. Are you level jumping our relationship?
And WTF? My “star?” Just what are you implying about me? And why the hell is the word “Star” capitalized? Is this Star some sort of god in the realm of Starbucks? “Hail, mortals! Gaze thine eyes upon Bean, Venti and Star. The holy trinity of Starbucks!”
Meh. So I carefully read the card, not wanting any surprises prior to making the 40-mile drive in an attempt to redeem it. If I drove 40 miles only to be denied, there could be, as Robocop used to say, “trouble.”
Present this postcard for a FREE DRINK.
(We’ll make you any drink you like.)
That sounds good enough. All things being equal I’m actually a fairly reasonable fellow. True, I recently gave up coffee, but how could I expect you to know that? After all, we barely know each other. I’m sure I’ll find something you make that I can drink. Maybe a hot cocoa?
But then came the moment I always expect. The moment when expectations are flushed down the toilet. I continued to read on, this time scrutinizing the tinyest print found anywhere on the card:
Pardon us while we cover our bases.
–Thus sayeth the postcard
Now wait one damn minute! What the hell kind of “gift” is this, anyway? What kind of friend comes up to you on your birthday and says, “Here’s a gift for ya, pall. Be sure to read the legalese before opening, though. I enclosed an End User License Agreement. I have to cover my ass, ya know? Nothing personal. Oh, and, before I forget – Happy Birthday!”
With friends like that who needs enemies?
The wind was now completely out of my sails as I warily pressed on:
See expiration date on address block.
–Thus sayeth the postcard
And…
… must be cheerfully handed over at time of visit.
–Thus sayeth the postcard
Well played, Starbucks. Well played! If the expiration date didn’t get me the “cheerful” clause was there to guarantee that my attempt at redemption would fail. We all know I can’t pass any sort of damn cheerful clause!
And who in the hell gives a birthday gift with an expiration date?
I checked the date. I looked at the card. Yep, the date had already passed. I was no longer holding a “gift” in my hands. Due to the passage of two weeks of time I was holding nothing more interesting than a piece of Starbucks advertising. Two weeks expiration from the date of the birthday seems like a very narrow window indeed.
“Here’s a gift for ya, pal. No matter how inconvenient this might be, haul your ass to our store (40 miles away) and within the next two weeks – or you get nothing! Also, while you’re there, you might as well buy a bunch of our magnificent shit for top dollar.”
Well happy motherfucking birthday to me!
Starbucks had literally given me a present that could only be used in the present.
Thanks a lot, Starbucks. Thanks for nothing. Thanks for doing the impossible and making my birthday somehow even less than I could ever possibly expect.
Shouts from the Abyss 
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