From Adult Diapers to Cursive Z’s (A Drunken Recollection)

Update: Remembered a Q and Z!  Now with more O!

Last night, as usual, the conversations danced around like the carbonation in the libations.  Here’s a rundown of the lowdown in alphabetic order:

A -> Adult Diapers.  Apparently, some people wear them to rock concerts so they don’t lose their spot.  Discussion of wearing them to the bar any night reeked of laziness.
B -> b (the lower case letter).  A malformed handwritten form of this letter prompted another to mention that it looked like a stick person’s foot.  This prompted me to ask if “d” was the other foot.
C -> Cursive Writing.  This sprung out of the “b” incident.  Heated (lukewarm) debate began over capital F’s.  Capital I’s, Q’s, X’s and Z’s were remembered fondly.  (And conveniently.)
D -> Darts.  The game was played.  I never achieved Swiss Cheez athleticism (see S).
E -> ESPN.  And their stupid show where people play Madden ’09.  To borrow liberally from SNL (and specifically Seth and Amy), “Really?”
F -> F (see C)
G -> George and Ma’am.  “Why do you call George, George, and me, Ma’am, instead of Katherine?” / “Because it’s close to Mom.”  (see W – ha, like the channel!)
H -> Hole.  Courtney’s “Celebrity Skin” was played on the digital jukebox, when we really wanted to play… (see V – ha, like the resume!)
I -> I (see C – ha, like Intensive Care Center… wait that’s not funny)
J -> “Jake’s Again.”  Home of the delectable $3.25 CHEESEBURGER… IF ONLY I COULD CAPITALIZE THE $3.25
K -> Kan’t think of anything.
L -> Lions.  Alex Karras played for them.  He was married to Susan Clark.  They were on a show together.  (see W – not as funny the second time)
M -> Maverick.  Not our ol’ GOP pals.  The increbidle (I mixed up my left and right feet) ride at Cedar Point.
N -> Nope, nothing to see here.
O -> Olympic Figure Skating.  Specifically – Men’s Figure Skating.  Particularly – Brian Boitano, and whether he was Canadian or American.  The argument found footing* in the South Park Movie because he did not have a flapping head.  *(SIDENOTE: db <– regular footing; bd <– pigeon-toed, or shy, footing)
P -> Proposal 2.  In Michigan, it’s about stem cell research, and the funding it gets.  Fun ding?  Funny!
Q -> Q (see C… for cop out)… No wait!  Quints!  We chatted about how the old toyline would prove to be an interesting costume.
R -> Relationships.  I daydreamed my ideal situation – the woman would be beautiful and mysterious.  She would belittle me almost everyday, but tell me she still cares about me.  She’d disappear for days at a time and I’d go crazy, wondering about her, waiting for her return.  When she’d come home, I’d question where she’d been.  She’d get angry and threaten to leave me for good.  I’d withdraw the question and find happiness once again in her arms.  Ah, true love.
S -> Swiss Cheez.  Normally, as an athlete or skilled competitor, I’m moderate at best.  That’s me in the air pockets of the Cheez.  But every once in awhile, I hit the Cheez and look out!
T -> Trivia.  That’s why we were out ‘n about.  Check out the details here.
U -> Universe.  What we’re here for, and how everyone wants to be told what to do and to be like – but you can’t anyone that’s what they want.
V -> Violet.  “Go on, take everything, take everything I want you to!”
W -> “Webster.”  Two episodes I remember from this show: the time Webster thought his photography teacher stole his picture to win a magazine contest (they happened to take the same snapshot of a tree, but the winning pic had the teacher at the bottom of the frame!), and the other ‘sode had young Webster walking in on George and Ma’am getting busy.  They told him they were “changing a lightbulb,” so when Webster’s friend (a girl) came over, they got nude to “change a lightbulb.”  Kids!
X -> X (see C… for cheap)
Y -> You had to be there.
Z -> Z (see C, si?)  No, wait… Zenith.  Did you know they created the first remote control?

Three Things I Learned At The Lions Game

I’m a glutton for punishment.  Yes, I went to watch the Lions take on the Redskins at Ford Field.  Yes, I’m even going to Chicago next weekend to see them battle the Bears.  And why, you ask?

I could be lame and say – beer.  I could be lamer and say – the ladies.  It’s sure not the boys in blue and silver (and dammit if they didn’t get my hopes up again!)

It’s for the things you can learn when you least expect it.  So now I present to you, three things I learned at the Detroit Lions game:

1) You can make plastic out of plants.  You read that right.  And where did I stumble upon this discovery?  My beer cup.  The best part about the company that makes the plant-plastic cups?  Their website is F-K.

2) The Detroit Lions Pet Calendar is not a derogatory euphamism calendar.  A sale can be a powerful, um, selling tool.  At $10 a pop (for the calendar, not a soda… though that price is close), I considered getting one.  If I had, this is a sample of what I would have found.

3) Pornology would make a great name for a website.  But alas, it has already been taken, and not for any good use.  When my buddy, Jay, mispronounced the root word, I swore if the domain name was available, I’d be making a career switch.

Ah, the Power of Beer in a plastic cup made from plants..

Drunken Recollection… Movies of the Week Circa 1980

i’m not in as much pain as I was in last time, but on this eve of hops and barley, I’ve become deteremined to find the name of one, if not both, TV movies.

Let me interject my theory on the way the brain works.  I feel the best way to picture our memory is that it’s a warehouse full of boxes.  The older you grow, the more boxes you get.  There may be millions or billions, but basically, what it comes down to is which boxes you can access.  This determines, in part, your intelligence, or at least, your memory.

How I picture it is these boxes contain knowledge you’ve amassed through your life, but if the top is closed (due to alcohol, drugs, age, stress), it’s temporarily or perminently lost.  Why I say that is because sometimes you can send your synapses to look for something… and for the life of you, you know what it is but you can’t think of it… then days ly of this ater it pops in your head.

This is what I’m hoping for with these recollections.  ( I don’t even know if any of this makes any sense.)  I’m hoping I can trigger an answer.

The first flick I recalled was presumably named “The Vindicator,” but via IMDb, I discovered this film was a  “Robocop” clone.  What I remember about the movie was there was this guy who’s brother died in a car accident, so he souped up his truck with weapons (I remember a grapple hook most of all).  He set out to exact revenge against erratic drivers.  The very first catch he made with his hook was a man trying to get his pregnant wife to a hospital.

The second flick, well, that was easy.  I remembered one night in my youth, when I had a loose tooth about to fall out, this TV movie where a mentally challenged man was accused of hurting/killing a young girl, so he hid in a scarcrow.  They found him and killed him, but he returned from the dead or something.  IMDb did it’s job on this one: it’s called “Dark Night of the Scarecrow.”

I also found this on YouTube.  Thank heavens for the Internet – we don’t ever need to remember ever again.

If you have any inkling about the other movie, please give me a clue.

Zima’s Not Even Cold In The Ground

This past week, MillerCoors announced that they’re “cancelling” Zima.

They’ve declared the “malternative” nation dead.

Though it may not be “malternatively” kosher, there’s a new kid on the block!  (No, really, look… it’s Danny Wood… the New Kid no one remembers… he’s working at the Burger King by my house…) (from Luxist)

Pernod Absinthe is a revival of Pernod Fils, arguably the most authentic absinthe ever produced with a recipe that’s over 200 years old… The original is a high-proof sprit distilled from Grand Wormwood, fennel and anise – exactly the same as consumed by the likes of Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet, and now, us.

Pernod’s the right stuff to get get me through those long shifts at night, when all those drunk assholes come through the drive-thru, ordering Big Macs or Nacho Bell Grandes like they’re so fucking original,” Danny might say.

Gary Busey R.O.C.K.S.

Dr. Drew used to be somewhat of a hero of mine. Along with Adam Carolla and the beautiful Diane Farr, he hosted one of the rare shows I used to watch on MTV called “Loveline.” The two nuggets of knowledge dropped on me that have stuck are:

1) If you’re prone to lockjaw ladies (presumably from stepping on rusty nails?), then there’s always the side slide. (Thanks to Julie Benz for that one, and her unforgetable pantomimed presentation! You know Julie currently from Showtime’s “Dexter” and “Rambo,” formerly from “Jawbreaker,” and always from my memories.)

2) If a girl talks with a squeaky voice as an adult, she was molested as a kid. Hilarious!

(SIDENOTE: Whatever happened to “BuzzKill,” MTV? Just because Dave, Frank, and Travis disrupted the beach house, it doesn’t mean they never existed!)

Dr. Drew’s latest endeavor is the second season of Celebrity Rehab on VH1. Gary Busey’s in it, and he R.O.C.K.S. (Really Opens Cans of Kickass Seriously)

Here’s a sneak peek at the wisdom he’s there to share (a Busey-ism, if you will… cuz he does):

The word S.O.B.E.R… that stands for Son Of a Bitch, Everything’s Real

Click here for video. (From VH1)

If that’s not working, this is an equal treat:

Drunken Recollection… Chicken Lizards

The last Drunken Recollection I partook(or is it partaked… partaken?) in occurred the next morn.  Tonight, I humbly attempt apropos of nothing to write this despite my greater interest in hitting the sack or floor or bathroom tile… (You have no idea how many typos I’ve corrected on the fly right now – seriously, I’m serious.)

Discussion tonight swam around the usual philosophic waxings of two grown adults that have known each other since the age of five.  The fact that we still find new things to discuss is in of itself an item of wonder.  (It’s one of life’s magic tricks, I presume.)

Tonight, it was the discussion of chicken lizards.  Allegedly, some scientist has found a way to manipulate chicken DNA so that it turns into a lizard, ‘natch.  Make that a “terrible lizard.”  (Common science nerds – I’m talkin’ dinosaurs here.)

In my investigations (Google is my Watson), I’ve found not a bit of evidence to support the tall tale.  But i have found this:

Kentucky Fried Dinosaurs

Kentucky Fried Dinosaurs

According to GetAngry, in New York and Massachusetts, this Taconic Chicken Lizard existed.  It’s only natural enemy was the Berkshire Mountain Monkey:

I think it had skin and muscles... maybe.

I think it had skin and muscles... maybe.

Still without scientific evidence, I searched further to find an artist’s representation of this hybrid (from Elfwood):

I think a kid from my third grade class drew the same thing.

I think a kid from my third grade class drew the same thing.

Unfortunately, with my buzz winding down, eureka!  (And if not eureka, at least “Eek the Cat”…)
From Miss Moneypenny CPU(?):

Australian scientists are trying to crack another evolution (adaptation?) mystery of a chicken evolving backwards into a lizard!

They believe the harsh Australian outback may be responsible to the survival of Speedy Speedcat’s cousin, Sheila Chickencat and her offspring!

Er, wait no… that doesn’t even make any sense… (And I thought I could speak Australian…)

I found that story twice, and not a lick of a chick with scales (I may be able to find that description).  I’ve looked as long as I can in my condition, and found nothing.  Is it bedtime yet?

Who Could Ask For Anything More?

What do I love more in the whole wide world than a new Zac Efron movie? 

Nick Nolte talking about said Zac Efron movie!

Doncha just get lost in their eyes...

Doncha just get lost in their eyes...

(Not really, but it’s hilarious anyway… courtesy of one of my fave ass-kickingest sites: Filmdrunk.)

(Pics from People Magazine and breakin’ the law.)

I Stand Corrected AKA I Stand Old-Schooled

Memories are a lot like books – they can get dusty.  They’re also a lot like raisins – they’re wrinkly (and purple?) and cats – they always land on their feet.  Mix in years of voluntary and involuntary brain damage and somehow you mash two things together that

A) Have completely different styles of conveying a message (even thought the message is the same).

B) Have completely different style of presentation – one’s traditional animation and one’s… what the hell is that style?  Can we just call it 90’s style?

and C) Were made eight years apart from each other (1983 and 1991 to be exact… either way, my breakfast still probably consisted of Cocoa Krispies.)

For some reason, I thought this guy…

…sang this song…

Guess I better stop drinking so much Zima…  I’m so “malternative” it’s hard to stop.

R.I.P. Zima, We Hardly Knew Ya

In a bold decision no one could have ever seen coming (mostly because most people didn’t know it was still around), MillerCoors is pulling the plug on its popular party starter, Zima.

According to the Chicago Tribune, the marketing department poured their forties on Zima’s grave mostly due to a weakness in the “malternative” segment of the population (apparently, they succumb to pressure when tickled).

Caffeinated Sparks will be picking up where Zima left off… as the last thing on Earth I’m reaching for when I need to get a drink on.

"I'll miss you with all my heart," she sighs, "Especially next Saturday at my boyfriend's bonfire..."

“I’ll miss you with all my heart,” she sniffled.  “Especially next Saturday at my boyfriend’s bonfire… his band Bond Jovi is playing.  They dress up like 007 and play cover songs…  Look at me, blubbering…”

In My Brain While Sleeping… The Next Hollywood Blockbuster

In world left asunder by war and poverty… a future that’s not that far… ahead…

Battles are no longer fought by armies and men, but by giant robots (but not like “Robot Jox” robots)…

They meet in a stone cold mountain ring, and battle to knock each other’s blocks off…

Starring Mark Wahlberg.  (Seriously, he was in my dream.)

INGREDIENTS: Pitchers of beer + two cherry bombs.