Olympic Drinking

Fucking China. I was debating on maybe trying to capitalize on the ubiquitous and nauseating amounts of coverage NBC and their whores will hoist upon us beginning...well today actually. To be honest, I am not sure if I should punish my liver for the sins of the orient.

I'm on record as stating this Olympics will have some sort of calamity written all over it.(No I am not referring to the shit paper ripped from a teletubbies episode) Many blogs that I read are of the same opinion, although you wouldn't know much of it from the so-called regular media. These asshats can't grovel fast enough to the Chicoms, while giving lip service to freedom of the press yada yada yada. Being born on the day of the Munich Massacre, I claim clairvoyance on this esoteric and narrow project. There have been the standard reports of pollution, violence at checkpoints, and general commie fuckery. I'm still pulling for some exotic disaster, perhaps a dragon war or the appearance of Zombie Genghis Khan, you know...a real fuckup of Jovian proportion.

Anyhoo. I thought I might try and enlist the group into some of sort of drinking game for the Olympics. Not the faggotry that some locals think of as drinking games, this is strict power boozing and low-key jackassery. Perhaps a beer or shot for every gold medal the USA brings back( I believe that was around 36 or so for the 2004 Summer Games) at the conclusion of ceremonies. Then again, my heart really isn't into it...and to be honest, I'll probably drink that much anyway. So, to close this pointless entry, I've included an image of mostly humorous drunken acts that might be construed as athletic competition. Well, at the Delta Tau Chi house.

Review: Slivovitz

And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. Revelation of St. John 6:8

With apologies to Mr. Blake, with whom I doubt very seriously ever expected his famed rendering of Death on horseback to grace a booze blog. Then again he probably never tasted the brutal horror that is slivovitz, aka Hellhooch.

This review is a curious one. To wit, the authors of this blog will each shudder and squirm when remembering trips to Restaurant Linderhoff in Farragut. Though we do not consume this murderous plum brandy often, we do feel a sense of shame and terror at the very mention of the liquor. Twice in recent memory we've journeyed deep to the west of Knox County for authentic German cuisine and atmosphere. Twice we've acted like boors, cads, rakes, and in one nasty case--the accused. However, that's a story for a different post. Lets stick to the topic and review at hand:

Fucking plum brandy from the Goddamn Balkans. This shit tastes literally like fire...I've often spoke of it in hushed whispers "like tequila made in a coal mine" and that's being generous. It defies taste. In fact, I'm not going to take this much further. This shit will kill you. Need concrete proof? Then consider our clinical case of young college student Slobodan Tyrone Washington Jefferson Radesvic Milosevic(no relation) aged 22 years:

Get the idea? Stay the fuck away from this shit. Your criminal record, your relationships, your family, et all will thank you. I am firmly convinced the Black Hand organization was on this tripe when Archduke Ferdinand was assassinated and thus triggered World War One. If you've ever seen our group at Linderhoff, you'll wonder why more global wars haven't erupted. Fuck the former Yugoslavian states with a board wrapped in concertina wire.