So let me drop a little something something on ya real quick...
Things overheard at restaurants this weekend....
The good (in a british accent no less): "Son you have got to get to know those hooter girls better" --A man sez to his 4 year old boy
The Bad: "Manuel, come see this. This is what I was telling you about. This is a health code violation. Make it go away." --The hostess to the busboy pointing at something behind the bar
The Ugly: "You are a smelly pirate hooker." Me to Mr. White Chocolate after having to consume an entire pint while playing Bullisht pyramid and having the table next to us give disparaging looks.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Friday, May 26, 2006
So you don't have to look at the clown any more
Here's a picture of some people playing donkey baseball.
I'll write more later...
Sunday, May 21, 2006
I am going to go wash my eyeballs now...
Who drives a car with tags like this?
Do you really want to know?
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Sugar free Twizzlers = Pure Evil
Trust me on this one.
I am no doctor, but something tells me you should not be able to hear food being digested. And for sure, people next to you should not be able to hear it.
My stomach is making noises like when you throw water on a gremlin.
I am no doctor, but something tells me you should not be able to hear food being digested. And for sure, people next to you should not be able to hear it.
My stomach is making noises like when you throw water on a gremlin.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
A sidecar named desire
Went to a wedding this weekend.
Wedding had an open bar.
Fancy one, too.
The kind loaded with bottles of stuff that you don't even recognize.
Thus, I was so inspired to expand my lushicious horizons and order a sidecar.
The barkeep said "Sure thing, what's in a sidecar?"
I replied "I have no clue, you are the bartender, you tell me."
Barkeep says to BarkeepII "Hey barkeepII, what's a sidecar?"
BarkeepII "I have no idea."
Me "Just make something up."
BarkeepI "Like what?"
Me "Let's try vodka and fresh lime juice."
Despite being nowhere close to what a real sidecar is, my drink was pretty decent.
A few minutes later a friend went to the bar and ordered a dirty side car and a new game of screw with the bartender was born.
Over the course of the evening a variety of interesting and non-existing drinks were ordered. These drinks included, but were not limited to...
Curly Mullet
The Fuzzy Ninja
A dirrty (yes dirrty) Shirley Temple
An Arabian Cricket
and perhaps my most favorite...
The Sexy Pickle.
I even came up with a impromptu recipe (Sprite and Midori) to act as if such a thing truly exists.
The Sexy Pickle has the added benefit of being able to ask others important questions such as "Have you seen my sexy pickle?" or "You want taste my sexy pickle?"
I debated also asking for a Gary Busey, but feared receiving a pint of whiskey coupled with a slap and a warrant.
Late in the evening, as the game progressed, I overheard someone order a one-legged hooker. When the bartender asked what kind of drink is that? They replied, who said anything about a drink?
Ok, I made that last part up.
In other news, I had collard greens for dinner.
Wedding had an open bar.
Fancy one, too.
The kind loaded with bottles of stuff that you don't even recognize.
Thus, I was so inspired to expand my lushicious horizons and order a sidecar.
The barkeep said "Sure thing, what's in a sidecar?"
I replied "I have no clue, you are the bartender, you tell me."
Barkeep says to BarkeepII "Hey barkeepII, what's a sidecar?"
BarkeepII "I have no idea."
Me "Just make something up."
BarkeepI "Like what?"
Me "Let's try vodka and fresh lime juice."
Despite being nowhere close to what a real sidecar is, my drink was pretty decent.
A few minutes later a friend went to the bar and ordered a dirty side car and a new game of screw with the bartender was born.
Over the course of the evening a variety of interesting and non-existing drinks were ordered. These drinks included, but were not limited to...
Curly Mullet
The Fuzzy Ninja
A dirrty (yes dirrty) Shirley Temple
An Arabian Cricket
and perhaps my most favorite...
The Sexy Pickle.
I even came up with a impromptu recipe (Sprite and Midori) to act as if such a thing truly exists.
The Sexy Pickle has the added benefit of being able to ask others important questions such as "Have you seen my sexy pickle?" or "You want taste my sexy pickle?"
I debated also asking for a Gary Busey, but feared receiving a pint of whiskey coupled with a slap and a warrant.
Late in the evening, as the game progressed, I overheard someone order a one-legged hooker. When the bartender asked what kind of drink is that? They replied, who said anything about a drink?
Ok, I made that last part up.
In other news, I had collard greens for dinner.
Friday, May 12, 2006
What did the five fingers say to the face?
Today is the official Slap Your Irritating Co-workers Holiday:
Do you have a co-worker who talks nonstop about nothing, working your last nerve with tedious and boring details that you don't give a damn about?
Do you have a co-worker who ALWAYS screws up stuff creating MORE work for you?
Do you have a co-worker who kisses so much booty, you can look in their
Mouth and see what your boss had for lunch?
Do you have a co-worker who is SOOO obnoxious,when he/she enters a room, everyone else clears it?
Well, on behalf of Ike Turner, I am so very very glad to officially announce Today is SLAP YOUR IRRITATING CO-WORKER DAY!
There are the rules you must follow:
You can only slap one person per hour - no more.
You can slap the same person again if they irritate you again in the same day.
You are allowed to hold someone down as other co-workers take their turns slapping the irritant.
No weapons are allowed...other than going upside somebody's head with
a stapler or a hole-puncher.
CURSING IS MANDATORY!
After you have slapped the recipient, your Assault must be followed with something like "cause I'm sick of your stupid-a$$ always messing up stuff!"
* If questioned by a supervisor or police, (if the supervisor is the irritant), you are allowed to LIE, LIE, LIE! Now, study the rules, break out your list of folks that you want to slap the living day lights out of andget to slapping.....and have a GREAT DAY!
Do you have a co-worker who talks nonstop about nothing, working your last nerve with tedious and boring details that you don't give a damn about?
Do you have a co-worker who ALWAYS screws up stuff creating MORE work for you?
Do you have a co-worker who kisses so much booty, you can look in their
Mouth and see what your boss had for lunch?
Do you have a co-worker who is SOOO obnoxious,when he/she enters a room, everyone else clears it?
Well, on behalf of Ike Turner, I am so very very glad to officially announce Today is SLAP YOUR IRRITATING CO-WORKER DAY!
There are the rules you must follow:
You can only slap one person per hour - no more.
You can slap the same person again if they irritate you again in the same day.
You are allowed to hold someone down as other co-workers take their turns slapping the irritant.
No weapons are allowed...other than going upside somebody's head with
a stapler or a hole-puncher.
CURSING IS MANDATORY!
After you have slapped the recipient, your Assault must be followed with something like "cause I'm sick of your stupid-a$$ always messing up stuff!"
* If questioned by a supervisor or police, (if the supervisor is the irritant), you are allowed to LIE, LIE, LIE! Now, study the rules, break out your list of folks that you want to slap the living day lights out of andget to slapping.....and have a GREAT DAY!
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Monday, May 08, 2006
Ring of Fire
No longer only the name of a Johnny Cash song, but also the name of a home grown drinking game that in once played WILL change the way you look at the world.
The by product of liberal consumption of South Paw Light and Guiness compounded with several restaurant quality deviant minds, this game emerged like a phoenix from the ashes of several rounds of beer pong.
After a heated discussion, the ring of fire council was formed and guidelines for future participation were established. We shyed away from rules, because this game is most appealing to miscreants who pride themselves on breaking them, thus their development would ultimately be as pointless as playing see-saw with Kristy Alley.
So now, ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of the 2006 Myrtle Beach Ring of Fire Council, I present to you the guiding principles and corresponding examples behind Ring of Fire.
First, develop a list of "drinking punishments" and write each one on a piece of paper, then fold it up and place it in a hat. The exact number of punishments doesn't matter greatly, but you want a decent number. We used 8, since the number 8 is great according to the Count. You want some variation in the punishments, but they should all be attainable, and hopefully within the confines of the law. Of our eight we had one light punishment and one really really evil one. They were, presented in level of severity, as follows:
1. Eat a pretzel (AKA the one free pass)
2. Give a shotgun and take a shot gun (you shotgun a beer and elect someone else to do the same)
3. Funnel a beer
4. Irish Car Bomb
5. South Paw Bomb (Irish car bomb made with South Paw light instead of Guiness)
6. Flip for shots (you have 1 chance to flip a cup, if you hit, everyone else drinks a shot, if you miss you drink a shot)
7. Wine shooters (5 glasses, each with 2 shots of wine, must be finished in 5 minutes)
8. Mat shot (each player pours a beverage of their choice into the loser's cup, thus with five players, you end up with a cup filled 5 different drinks)
Next, take 12 keg cups and place each on upside down on a table. Hide a ping pong ball under one cup and then array them in form a circle. Have someone else spin the table around a few times. Then have someone else do the same.
Now the stage is set. Grab a deck of cards and gather around a second table or sit on the floor. Deal everyone a card and low card loses. In case of multiple low cards, a game of war settles the score. Loser has to visit the ring of fire and pull a cup (if the loser lost at war, they pull 2 cups, 3 cups if there was a war on top of a war). If the cup is empty, they remove it from the mix and the game continues (another round of cards is dealt).
When someone removes a cup and finds the ball, play Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" and have them draw a punishment and take it like a man or eastern European woman. Afterwards, remove that punishment from the mix and reset the ring of fire for another round. Continue playing until all punishments have been issued.
I know it doesn't sound like much, but with the right element, it's pretty much the greatest game of all times.
The by product of liberal consumption of South Paw Light and Guiness compounded with several restaurant quality deviant minds, this game emerged like a phoenix from the ashes of several rounds of beer pong.
After a heated discussion, the ring of fire council was formed and guidelines for future participation were established. We shyed away from rules, because this game is most appealing to miscreants who pride themselves on breaking them, thus their development would ultimately be as pointless as playing see-saw with Kristy Alley.
So now, ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of the 2006 Myrtle Beach Ring of Fire Council, I present to you the guiding principles and corresponding examples behind Ring of Fire.
First, develop a list of "drinking punishments" and write each one on a piece of paper, then fold it up and place it in a hat. The exact number of punishments doesn't matter greatly, but you want a decent number. We used 8, since the number 8 is great according to the Count. You want some variation in the punishments, but they should all be attainable, and hopefully within the confines of the law. Of our eight we had one light punishment and one really really evil one. They were, presented in level of severity, as follows:
1. Eat a pretzel (AKA the one free pass)
2. Give a shotgun and take a shot gun (you shotgun a beer and elect someone else to do the same)
3. Funnel a beer
4. Irish Car Bomb
5. South Paw Bomb (Irish car bomb made with South Paw light instead of Guiness)
6. Flip for shots (you have 1 chance to flip a cup, if you hit, everyone else drinks a shot, if you miss you drink a shot)
7. Wine shooters (5 glasses, each with 2 shots of wine, must be finished in 5 minutes)
8. Mat shot (each player pours a beverage of their choice into the loser's cup, thus with five players, you end up with a cup filled 5 different drinks)
Next, take 12 keg cups and place each on upside down on a table. Hide a ping pong ball under one cup and then array them in form a circle. Have someone else spin the table around a few times. Then have someone else do the same.
Now the stage is set. Grab a deck of cards and gather around a second table or sit on the floor. Deal everyone a card and low card loses. In case of multiple low cards, a game of war settles the score. Loser has to visit the ring of fire and pull a cup (if the loser lost at war, they pull 2 cups, 3 cups if there was a war on top of a war). If the cup is empty, they remove it from the mix and the game continues (another round of cards is dealt).
When someone removes a cup and finds the ball, play Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" and have them draw a punishment and take it like a man or eastern European woman. Afterwards, remove that punishment from the mix and reset the ring of fire for another round. Continue playing until all punishments have been issued.
I know it doesn't sound like much, but with the right element, it's pretty much the greatest game of all times.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Holding it down for German engineering since 87 yaaaa! Autoweek vol3
I know most people would scoff at this car, but I liked it. Perhaps due to the contrast effect and my previous car. More likely, however, it was due to my appreciation for being able to see beyond face value and size up potential.
Going on looks alone, a fair amount of people would consider this car butt ugly and never give it a second thought. Peel back the boxy exterior and you will find something rather revolutionary. VW engineers were pretty far ahead of the ricer curve, putting out an affordable, fun to drive pocket rocket. In fact, a recent issue of Automobile magazine placed the GTI among twenty cars which changed the way consumers think about cars and you don't see status like that every day (fugly looks or not).
As for interesting back story, my most memorable experience with the GTI was losing it when I was sideswiped by a drunk driver late one night while out looking for a Mother's day card. I was cruising along when WHAMO! I got sidechecked to the next lane by a Jeep which kept on truckin. I gave pursuit, flashing my lights and laying on the horn. A mile or so later the jeep pulled over.
The driver asked me what the problem was and I replied "nothing aside from the fact you just hit me." He opened his door to get out to assess the damage and fell out of his seat. He was more sauced than Courtney Love at a roast. He tried to leave the scene, but I busted out my ninja like skills and snacthed his keys from his ignition before he could make his getaway.
I proceeded to call the cops on a payphone. He proceeded to hang up said payphone.
I proceeded to call again and he proceeded to charge me like a bull.
I stuck out my elbow.
He ran into ye olde elbow and fell backwards.
We exchanged pleasantries.
The cops came.
He went to jail.
My GTI went bye bye, but not without blessing me with a nice insurance check. Actually I was able to keep it for the check less $100 and I did, banking on the fact that I could get at least $100 for it at the auto auction. I was right. It sold for close to $1,600, more that what I originally paid for it it the first place.
It was sort of my automotive giving tree.
A horse of a different name -- Autoweek Volume 2
While getting exponentially better gas mileage and having air conditioning which actually worked, this car was a tad bit light on the power side. The car would actually slow down when you pressed the horn and if you wanted to drive with AC, the car would labor more intensively that Kathy Lee’s sweat shop.
To remedy things, I tinted the windows. Then I tinted them again. Yes a true geto fashion statement if there ever was one, double tint. Then with the scraps, I cut out a giant wu-tang W and added that on my collage of tint. It was tint-tastic.
The car was charming in its own right. It had the world’s easiest clutch. I am pretty much convinced the shifter and clutch did nothing and were purely for show. I never had to worry about someone trying to steal the car since it was a sock in the gas tank away from being the piece o’ sh!t car Adam Sandler once sang about.
As an added bonus, the carefree attitude towards the car allowed me to experiment with different projects such as the aforementioned tinting and blinging out the wheels with tin foil.
Me and the LGC cut it up for two years and I have no regrets, Well maybe the tinfoil rims.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Pootie Dominates!
Van Damn! I just check the stats on my library of video shorts and Sine your bitty on the runny kine has broken the 2,000 views mark. Peeps jousting is a distant second with just under 1,000. Troll Hating and Mo betta jousting gets no love with less tha 25 views a piece.
Just some random facts.
That is all.
Go about your day.
Doodads.
Just some random facts.
That is all.
Go about your day.
Doodads.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Autoweek Volume 1
As far as the ole' stang goes, it was quite possibly the fastest car I have ever been in. Truth be told, I once rear-ended a bird trying to fly away from me. The car also had an amazing trick. Press in the clutch, cock the wheel all the way to one side, rev the engine to 5K and dump it and you could pretty much do a u-turn without moving. The car also goes 150 MPH and that's all I am going to elaborate about that.
The last thing I will say is that cops hated that car. I received my first (and last) ticket(s) in that car. It had a hard life (before I owned it of course). It started as a demo and then was bought by some kid in Waldorf before it came into my possession. He promised me it was never raced, despite having several thousand dollars worth of racing upgrades and 1/4 mile slip showing 13s. He sweared it was just one pass, just to see what it could do. I was gullible teenager. The car leaned funny and the frame developed stress factures so bad that a body shop fixed it, but didn't charge me because they had never seen anything like that and were worried of being liable for something going horribly wrong.
We had a good run, but after 3 years, I put the stang out to pasture thanks to the never ending supply of speed hungry gullible teenagers from Waldolf looking to buy a mustang.
The life and times of Mr. Happy
Right now, you are asking yourself, who the heck is Mr. Happy?
Is he the same guy from the Roger Hargreaves series?
No, not in this case.
When I refer to Mr. Happy, I am, in fact, referring to a wooden spoon that my mother's friend would use to discipline her kids, ala Catholic school nun ruler beating across the tops of your hand style.
Thankfully, my parents, being the enlightend folk they are, were never big into the whole corporal punishment scene.
However, they did try the spoon trick. Once.
I'm don't remember what, exactly, I did wrong, but I am sure I went out of my way to earn the fabled spoon smack. What I do remember is laughing at the first recourse of my actions...a hand smack. My foolish courage was rewarded with a upgraded punishment, Mr. Happy Style.
Like the sad clown, I laughed no more and retreated to my bedroom in furious tears. There I lay, waiting, plotting, until I glanced over to my desk and a grand vision unfolded.
I knew what I must do. The sleeping hours could not come soon enough, but once they did, my mission began. I stealthily crept into the kitchen and abducted the wooden utensil which wronged me only hours before.
I took the spoon back to my room, sat at my desk and inserted the handle into my pencil sharpener. I then began cranking the handle and laughing like a 3 year old mad man. I wore that handle down to a mere nub of its former glory before returning it to the drawer to serve warning to other spoons.
I guess it worked, cause the spoon beatings ceased. Victory was mine!
Is he the same guy from the Roger Hargreaves series?
No, not in this case.
When I refer to Mr. Happy, I am, in fact, referring to a wooden spoon that my mother's friend would use to discipline her kids, ala Catholic school nun ruler beating across the tops of your hand style.
Thankfully, my parents, being the enlightend folk they are, were never big into the whole corporal punishment scene.
However, they did try the spoon trick. Once.
I'm don't remember what, exactly, I did wrong, but I am sure I went out of my way to earn the fabled spoon smack. What I do remember is laughing at the first recourse of my actions...a hand smack. My foolish courage was rewarded with a upgraded punishment, Mr. Happy Style.
Like the sad clown, I laughed no more and retreated to my bedroom in furious tears. There I lay, waiting, plotting, until I glanced over to my desk and a grand vision unfolded.
I knew what I must do. The sleeping hours could not come soon enough, but once they did, my mission began. I stealthily crept into the kitchen and abducted the wooden utensil which wronged me only hours before.
I took the spoon back to my room, sat at my desk and inserted the handle into my pencil sharpener. I then began cranking the handle and laughing like a 3 year old mad man. I wore that handle down to a mere nub of its former glory before returning it to the drawer to serve warning to other spoons.
I guess it worked, cause the spoon beatings ceased. Victory was mine!
Friday, April 28, 2006
clink clink clink...color printer come out to playeeaa!
We got a new color printer at work recently and are allowed to dispose of the old one in any fashion we see fit.
FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!
The Color printer gets it, after school, 3:00 behind the library!
Look for another infamous T15 epic 2:00 movie portraying its demise soon.
FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!
The Color printer gets it, after school, 3:00 behind the library!
Look for another infamous T15 epic 2:00 movie portraying its demise soon.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Run for the hills!
I know my post on strawberry hills was hard to comprehend for some of you non-visual thinkers, so now we have this.
In other news, me and the lady watched Dave Attel's Insomniac Comedy Tour this weekend. It wasn't too shabby. One joke was so intense, I laughed and farted simultaneously, much to me lady's alarm. Touche Mr. Attel.
Finally, I saw a clip on America's Funniest Home Video of a snowman on a highway being runover.
As confirmation of my future trip to the fiery gates, I laughed hysterically. For starters, the clip is pretty damn funny in its own right. Secondly, I once experienced a very similar circumstance first hand...back in the day and secondarily (ie I take no responsibility, I just so happened to be around when it happened) of course.
The main difference was in the snowman's location. Rather on a county approved road, it stood proudly on someone's front yard. We were driving around in one of my friend's mom's car, a 1989 Chevy caprice, and one of our other friends (not the one who's mom owned the car) was driving.
As we rolled down the block, the driver calls out "I don't like the way that snowman looked at me" and proceeded to 180 the car, and floor it across the lawn mowing down frosty in the process.
Pretty deviant, eh? Well try and google snowman and car on google images and just look at what some twisted donkey thought up...
Maybe there is still hope for me after all.
Probably not.
In other news, me and the lady watched Dave Attel's Insomniac Comedy Tour this weekend. It wasn't too shabby. One joke was so intense, I laughed and farted simultaneously, much to me lady's alarm. Touche Mr. Attel.
Finally, I saw a clip on America's Funniest Home Video of a snowman on a highway being runover.
As confirmation of my future trip to the fiery gates, I laughed hysterically. For starters, the clip is pretty damn funny in its own right. Secondly, I once experienced a very similar circumstance first hand...back in the day and secondarily (ie I take no responsibility, I just so happened to be around when it happened) of course.
The main difference was in the snowman's location. Rather on a county approved road, it stood proudly on someone's front yard. We were driving around in one of my friend's mom's car, a 1989 Chevy caprice, and one of our other friends (not the one who's mom owned the car) was driving.
As we rolled down the block, the driver calls out "I don't like the way that snowman looked at me" and proceeded to 180 the car, and floor it across the lawn mowing down frosty in the process.
Pretty deviant, eh? Well try and google snowman and car on google images and just look at what some twisted donkey thought up...
Maybe there is still hope for me after all.
Probably not.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
It's bad luck just seeing a thing like that...
Forget Lost in Translation, go see Quick Change for an epic peformance from Bill Murray as a bank robbing clown and as an added bonus, quite possibly one of the best movie scenes of all times*
*in 1990 only
*in 1990 only
Friday, April 21, 2006
TSA Tonto and tres fish tacos...
It must be friday with a title like that, woo-haa got ya all in check!
So I have nil in terms of substance to blog about this PM but that's never stopped me before. Here are two things I'd like to share:
I had fish tacos for lunch today and they were fish-licious. Admittedly, I was a bit scarred to try them, but felt that with enough Cholula, anything is edible. Surprisingly they were not half-bad. Just 1/3 bad.
And from the "Oh that can't be good" vault, a snippet from yesterday's experience with the LAX TSA (airport security). The guard was of american indian/professional wrestler heritage. He was as diesal as they come and eyeballed my luggage tag and says to me "Custer.....any relation?" I wisely said "no" and his reply "Good...better not be...and how" Ok I added the "and how."
That is all.
So I have nil in terms of substance to blog about this PM but that's never stopped me before. Here are two things I'd like to share:
I had fish tacos for lunch today and they were fish-licious. Admittedly, I was a bit scarred to try them, but felt that with enough Cholula, anything is edible. Surprisingly they were not half-bad. Just 1/3 bad.
And from the "Oh that can't be good" vault, a snippet from yesterday's experience with the LAX TSA (airport security). The guard was of american indian/professional wrestler heritage. He was as diesal as they come and eyeballed my luggage tag and says to me "Custer.....any relation?" I wisely said "no" and his reply "Good...better not be...and how" Ok I added the "and how."
That is all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
