Comparison

There is much to appreciate about the 'good old days'

Note with the genteel black and white advertisement and overall folksy kitsch one could almost think that the 60's were a fine time to be alive. Let's all drink some Schlitz and the one, solitary beer that Anheuser Busch produces-Budweiser.

However,

With the modern marvels of a greedy NFL and HDTV we actually see what we young turks were missing:

Oof. This? Look I realize that TV coverage in those days was still in black and white...but my God, did the teams of yesteryear just assume that the actual spectators were blind as well? A pox on the Broncos. Give me standard definition and a small screen, please.

One's Golden Years

One of my co-workers is retiring at the end of the month...as he visited my office today while otherwise wasting time, he told me that he plans on 'drinking and fucking' after he leaves. On the way out the door he looks back and tells me "Don't tell my wife though, she thinks I'm working till January."

Beautiful.

Hilarious

September 4 @ 9:28 in particular rings true...and the old fart clearly hates Jim Beam.


http://twitter.com/shitmydadsays

From the "Holy Fucking Shit" Files

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you this thing:

Behold: The Silver God

I am grateful and disturbed that someone actually had the foresight during the 70's, 80's, or 90's to take a picture of Knoxville's most horrifying shitter this side of Neyland Stadium. This...thing, resided in the gentlemen's lavatory at the now defunct The Last Lap. We've blogged on the nostalgic bygones from Cumberland Avenue's glory days, but this majestic piece of photography brings a smile to my face and a powerful desire to drink leaded Budweiser.

Sometimes less is more, and I don't feel my standard need to be garrulous here. Those of us that remember this seemingly indestructible piece of Knoxville history really do not need my bullshit perspective to reminisce.

Let's just say that it doesn't matter if the film was in color or black and white, the powerful energies emanating from The Silver God would have made it look as it did during my foggiest memories. Secondly, the amount of piss in the bowl was always less than the urine puddled in the corner, which is not surprising when you consider that just off camera to the left is the trough which made for uncomfortably close quarters(think U-Boats).

I can remember only one time ever seeing anyone sit on the damn thing. I presume that person is deceased now. Fucking bacteria and voodoo have seen to that.

Gotterdammerung

Setting: Early Saturday morning...Mackey's couch. I'm alive, at least on some immoderate level. Allow me to show you as best I can what was going on inside my skull:

Get the idea? I swear Mad Max and The Lord Humongous were chasing each other in what once was a reasonably active mind. All motor control, gone. Attempts to rise...utterly fucked. Well, seems like it must be the sixth of September.

You see, I rarely lose memories or blackout. Believe me, that's not always a good thing. I've seen shit that'll turn you white with febrile confusion. As for most of my birthday, as Mackey has recounted, I put on a drinking clinic before succumbing to unconsciousness. The truly great part of a real nasty birthday tear is the hostility your friends really have for you. Oh sure, it's great fun...till you see furtive giggles as one "friend" slinks off to a far bartender. Said sumbitch or third-rate tart won't comeback with a stout bourbon. No, those hours are passed by and by (along with respectability). Instead, Patron rears its nasty sombrero. Jager hunts. The bow legged woman demands an audience. Any number of drinks that end with -zee's and -drops follow at a pretanatural pace. The Valkyries were definitely choosers of the slain that night.

Feh. I'm glad this sort of power-drinking only comes round once a year. Always nice to have it around Labor Day and the start of football season...makes the transition into Drinksgiving that much easier. Still, the hangover was impressive and defied description. It was a definite badge of honor.

Many thanks to all those for their well wishes and I salute the drinking buddies from Friday night. I won't forget it, you bastards. Heaven help the next one of you with a reason to celebrate.

Great Drunks of the Silver Screen 3.0

I give you Long Duk Dong.

Ah yes, John Hughes. During the utterly awesome, but completely saccharine teen angst/party films the 1980s this particular man did more for the typical surburban white youth than nearly any other director and producer. One of the more hilarious and borderline offensive characters is the sublime Donger.

Superpowers: Social climber, pretanatural drinker, attracting Amazons

Weaknesses: automobiles, the letters L and R, attracting Amazons

Long Duk Dong descends on a fictional Illinois town as an exchange student and within a hazy weekend offends his host family, destroys a car(while enhancing stereotypes), and mates with a giantess. Sounds like college.

This is an obscure choice, but his cultural staying power cannot be denied. While growing up in the Reagan years, teens looked to Hollywood to enable their underage boozing and this film was among that ilk. Sometimes I enjoy thinking that Dong went back to the orient, set up an opium den and whorehouse, and now runs a multinational conglomerate marketing sexually explicit material catering to big uns and chubby chasers.

I rail at thee, mix-n-match six pack

For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.-- Kipling

Indulge me for just a moment. Yes, the reader may wonder what I have against the seemingly innocent practice of mix and matching one's six pack...but I say now that this practice is godless, deceitful, and most likely communist. Soviet even.

I was at the local food jobber over the weekend. Being a man, I of course went to the beer section where I notice a patron with the bland white cardboard container indicative of this egalitarian practice. Now this place for years posted signs imploring us citizens to refrain from the college era prank/rookage of repackaging Newcastles into a Miller Lite six packs which could save the crafty ( if morally flexible) student upwards of five bucks. This is a young man's game, and should be abandoned upon getting a decent occupation. I note with irony the fact that said grocery store now encourages their state sanctioned mixing...complete with a nice surcharge(ie fucking) for the shopper.

Back to the patron. I scowled at his effete purchase...wondering if he was getting some Tiger Lagers from Singapore, or perhaps some Abita. Instead, this asshole had two Miller Chills and what appeared to be some Hefe Weizen trash, plus two malt piss from Smirnoff.

Juno's cunt, have you lost your mind sir?

This is part of the problem...anyone weak enough with a pathological need to sample some beers should man up and buy a six pack of the brew. You don't like Stella Artois after one bottle? Tough shit fairy, drink the other five now and learn your lesson. That's not to say one can't go into a proper bar and try new beers or drinks...but that is the time and place for proper

experimentation, not sitting on your well explored sofa nancing about which low carb trash you want to drink next. Hell, I would have had more respect had this consumer loaded up his custom six pack with heavy hitters like Red Hook, Duck-Rabbit, or any of the fifty Sam Adams that gets thrust on the American public. Bud Lime/Chill? Awful.

To take single beers and turn them into some sort of heterogeneous experiment is wrong. You rob the beer of its strength when you remove it from its fellows...and cheapen your buzz in the process. To sum up: if purchasing a single beer is your goal, find a nice 40(they like it
with the word 'dawg' because it makes them feel like they're friends with the product) and proceed to the gutter...otherwise, purchase your beer as prominent thinkers always have: six, twelve, eighteen, twenty-four, pony keg, keg in that order.

Save that douchebag crap for the Smirnoff Ice drinkers.

Tag is 40!

Our very own Tag Berauscht had a birthday recently and turned the big 4-0. Congrats for making it this far gramps - we're all thoroughly impressed that your liver has held up this long. Your dedication to daily-drinking has served you well so far, so don't go changing anytime soon. Well, change your Depends as necessary, but keep on drinking poopy-pants.