$38.27

That is the dollar amount of booze I intend to purchase. Or maybe the amount of a bar tab I’m going to run up later tonight. Either way I guarantee that it will be spent on booze of some sort - this I can assure you!

Have you ever found money when you weren’t expecting it? A crumpled $20 bill found in an old pair of jeans can totally make your day. It’s like the money faerie slipped you a little something extra for no damn reason at all. I just received a check in the mail for exactly $38.27, and like any unexpected “free” money I plan to blow it on whatever the hell I feel like. Right now I feel like booze. Fuck any “responsible or smart” spending, what fun would that be? I’m looking forward to possibly buying a high-end bourbon to ring in the new season. A bottle of Hendricks’s gin or even a couple bottles of wine could do the trick, we’ll see.

I had no idea why I received a check for that amount, and was hesitant about depositing it into my checking account fearing it may be one of those bank scams you hear about so often. But after clearing it with the bank teller who safely identified the source I went ahead and cashed that sucker. Turns out it was payment from a class action lawsuit I was part of several years ago. Hell, I’d forgotten about that many, many brain cells ago. So naturally this comes as a surprise, the good kind of surprise. The only down side of my good fortune is that by self-reporting this news I have alerted a few cadging, drunk friends that will be more than happy to assist me with my endeavors. I may have to hole up at a tavern in deep east Knox County. I may hide in my urban bunker with the phone turned off and refuse to answer the door - a la this. Actually, this is a farce of shit. A huge lie. There was no free money-check. Prank call, Prank call!!

The Great Pumpkin

The folks at Coaches Hot Seat have punkin-head Phil positioned at #2 in their current rankings. I'm shocked he isn't #1 but that honor is held by another SEC coach, Tommy Tuberville of Auburn. The Vols head to South Carolina tomorrow to face Spurrier's 'Cocks. It has been a dicey season for Fulmer and with another loss this weekend I don't see any way he stays to coach another year. Of course we're at the "soft" part of our schedule which means he could run the table to finish 8-4 7-5 and put UT in a bowl game and possibly save his job. The thought of that sends shivers up my spine. Scary!

Halloween

One of us mf had to post this weak shit, and I am that asshole. Just barely lazy enough to steal these images from the interweb and put them here so you can view them for the millionth time

Read this sumbitchin' wiki

www.beeripedia.com/index.php/Main_Page

Algonquin Round Table Part Deux

Greetings all. Today I embark upon some needed discourse on boozing it up. I have assembled a crack team of both historical and fictitious personalities to offer perspective and opinion about the important drinking and social issues of our age.

Our panelists: Ike Turner, Animal Mother, Mick Mars, and Richard Dawson

LVL: Let's start with you Mr. Turner. What can you offer us from your often tumultous time with Tina Turner?

Ike Turner: I am the greatest lover who ever walked the Earth.

LVL: And what did you drink in those days to ease the anguish of such a relationship?

Ike Turner: Pimp hand, bitch!

LVL: Uhh, certainly Ike. Say...is Rick James available over there on the other side? No?

LVL: Okay then...we now turn to prominent Vietcong dispatcher Animal Mother.

LVL: Welcome.

AM: I'm gonna tear you a new asshole.

LVL: Charming, jarhead savant killer. Say, is that a VC over there?

AM: FUCK!

LVL: Impressive killpower and prejudice, sir. Now, let us introduce a man with no need of introduction Richard Fucking Dawson!

RD: 'allo 'allo! 'ellen 'ave you 'idden my 'atchet?? Cor! Blimey! Straight up from Sussex you lot arrrr! Let's play d' feud!

LVL: Sir, we aren't playing that game, and there are no women here for you to grope, despite your impressive gin/rum/scotch breath...which I might add defies all reason.

RD:ZZZZZZZZ

LVL: Shit. Fuck. Um...now, last panelist...slightly renown but utterly cool guitarist of Motley Crue, Mick Mars.

MM: Ten seconds to love!

LVL: Exciting, Mick. Been a big fan since Live Wire. Let's start with the rumors that Nikki injected all kinds of shit in his veins. Your take?

MM: If I want to do a concert with my ball bag hanging out, I can do it...I'm Mick Mars!!

LVL:Your rebuttal Ike Turner?

Ike Turner: Gots to keep the pimp hand strong.

LVL: What say you Animal Mother?

Animal Mother: If I'm going to get my balls shot off for a word, I want that word to be poontang.

(gestures with M-60, bungalow flies open)

Da Nang Hooker: Hey, you got girrfriend Vietnam? Me so horny. Me ruv you rong time. (conjecture, license)

LVL: Wonderful.

Ike Turner: Pimp hand, bitch!

Work Less, Drink Less?

I took off work most of last week and returned yesterday to a shitload of catch-up work like you’d expect. During my time off there were several drinking occasions I took full advantage of, most notably the "Drunkard’s Breakfast" hosted by Lord von Lord, plus the weekend, the football game, etc. Aside from the heroic intake of Irish whiskey, bloody marys, Maker’s Mark and beer at LVL’s last Wednesday, the rest of my “drinking time” was underwhelming at best. Like I said, I did drink at times, but having 5 consecutive days off I expected to have at least a minor 3-day bender at some point. I’m pretty sure there were a couple of days I didn’t consume a drop of alcohol.

This makes me wonder if my drinking habits revolve completely around work. I don’t know how else to explain it. If I’d made plans and gone out of town somewhere conducive to drinking (a vacation) things may have been different. There’s something about a $200 hotel room, travel expenses, and being away from home that makes you feel like you have to go out and spend $5 a beer or $8 for a mixed drink and force yourself to have a good time. Apparently staying at home causes the opposite effect, for me at least.

So there I was, mostly sober. Sober for no reason at all. Sober in spite of not having to go to work. Sober with a keg of beer sitting in my kitchen. I can’t put my finger on it. Thursday I was recovering, but not from a hangover. It was a pork induced, cholesterol-fat attack that kept me on the couch most of the day.

Sunday I had no excuse, yet still I did not drink even though I had to work the next day. You’d think the glum notion of returning to work with the 9 – 5er’s could’ve provided some motivation, but no. I was riding high, feeling relaxed and refreshed from so much time off work. Fucking relaxation, why do you make me unthirsty?

Yesterday I returned to the office and found the heap of work I’d left behind the past 5 days. Oddly I was alone all day, the boss and receptionist absent in some peculiar day of hooky. The phone rang, the fax rang, and my emails were backed up a mile long. Shit. What now? Oh yeah, I’ve got to prepare for a conference coming in town this weekend. I’ve got seminars to arrange. I have dumb asses calling with dumb ass questions. Man, this must be why I took off last week, because all this work. Do you see where this is going? After work I felt the need to relieve some stress and went to the gym for a nice, short workout. But that wasn’t enough to make things right, not just yet. Something was out of place. My hand felt empty and useless. I turned on the football game and poured a beer, then another, and another…

I’m back!! (at work)

Bar Review: Sunsphere Update

Leaving the horror of the 2008 UT-Bama game we found ourselves back in the familiar confines of the Skybox. Not a major update here, only to say that now both elevators are working and the bartender ran off some awful frat idiots inquiring about Red Bull, Jager, etc.

I'm not against Jager and Red Bull, or Vodka and Red Bull as was the second drink order these khaki wearing dipshits wanted. Nay, it is just that some bars are for the drinking professionals (aka adults) and that shit outs you as college douche. Indeed, though we were not carded these guys were. Learn, oafish simpletons of the future.

Huge props to the Skybox for having some goddamn taste.