Drunken Recollection… Someone Else’s Insight

I didn’t compose this graphic – my cousin Steve did.  It pertains to, well, a lot about life, and I find it brilliant:

(Not So) Artistic Representation (Not Done By Me)

My favorite is:

…being far from sea level…

Drunken Recollection… Funny, I Don’t Recollect This Drunken Treat…

and that’s probably because it wasn’t a drunken treat.

But I was told this while I was drunk, and I believed my friend.  Moooostly because of the aforementioned boozing and unfamiliarity with the product.

Still, who thought marketing juice boxes to adults was a great idea?

Probably the same people who thought using Richard Lewis in the commercials was the bee’s knees.

(Or Richard Lewis’ hair stylist, amiright?)

Drunken Recollection… How This Happened I’ll Never Know

As I mentioned in the title… how this happened, I’ll never know.  And besides that, I wish it was a much more exciting mixup than what it is.

Now please keep in mind – this conversation happened extremely late into an evening of drinking, but for some reason, this song was brought up:

  • Amy Grant’s That’s What Love is For

And for some reason, there was a great confusion between that song and this one:

  • Vanessa Williams and Brian McKnight’s Love Is

The mental state was so deteriorated that night, it was believed for a considerable amount of the discussion that they might have even been remakes of each other.  At times, they even sounded the same.

Like I said, the brews were bruising synapses that night.

Confusing those two songs (although their titles are similar) was almost as bad as confusing these two songs (which have a similar back beat):

  • The Beach Boys’ Kokomo
  • Sade’s Smooth Operator

Drunken Recollection… Concrete Jungle Where Drinks Are Made Of

Now that I’m clean-shaven and no longer look like this:

The bird is the word.

Or this:

I must admit, I missed my face.  I went through one day of phantom beard, but that was it.  I should mention my regret for removing the season-long Red Wings hockey beard on the first day of the Stanley Cup playoffs, but in order to fly to NYC without hassle, it seemed worth the hassle.  (Thank goatee they’re advancing to Round 2!)

Anysubway, I won’t bore you with the details.  All the details.  Just some of them.

Jay was Hitting One Liners Out of the Park

"Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the crowd that wanted to beat up a guy for wearing a Mets' cap..."

On Friday, we headed to Yankee Stadium to see two of our beloved ex-Tigers play (Curtis Granderson and, um, Marcus Thames), and all day, my buddy Jay was calling ’em like he saw ’em.

Some of things he said that were actually documented:

I need to stop calling these trips vacations and start calling them work out retreats.

If I owned that shirt it’d be my third favorite shirt.

Hey I’m paying twenty bucks to look at empty stages tomorrow.

Steve: Who sings ‘I Can See Clearly Now the Rain is Gone?’
Jay: Ke$ha.

What are you? A garbophobe?

It’s getting all Wendy’s up in here! [This one was mine. – Ed.]

“It’s Getting All Wendy’s Up in Here!”

I wish I had photos as proof, but Wendy’s in Midtown is, simply put, insane.  I don’t think it was an isolated incident either.  The show Ugly Americans even gave a shout out to it.

At any rate, the breakdown of events (this all happened within fifteen minutes):

  • Some one threw their filled drink in the air.
  • A sober girl was trying to get a trashed girl up the stairs.
  • Steve slipped on the spilled drink and dropped everything but his drink.
  • Chris tripped down some stairs while holding only the top bun covered in its toppings.  (He wanted a plain one.)
  • Somebody left a strange package on one of the tables.  (I checked what it was, damned if I remember.)
  • A person kept screaming about how he wanted to kill everyone, and no one reacted.

I don’t know.  It seemed much crazier when I was trashed.

I’m So Proud of Myself for Something Not Proud

This photo's fuzziness doesn't even come close to my eyes' fuzziness that night.

On Saturday, we found a bar called No Idea and like the bar’s name, we had no idea what was in store (hee!).  We stopped here after not getting to play ping-pong at Susan Sarandon’s Spin because they were closing for a private party.

BONUS JAY QUOTE!

Here I was under the impression none of us played ping-pong.

The plan was this: kick back a few cheap drinks, make our way to bar hop in East Village, and finally check out P.D.T.’s in Crif Dogs (our missed mission from last year).  Let’s just say that plan’s quickly becoming an annual tradition.

As soon as the drinks kept flowing (courtesy of an all-you-can-drink party), the remainder of the night became a blur.

Oh yeah – my proud moment… I threw up and quickly returned to drink more.  I never knew I had it in me to do that!

The Drunk Idea of the Trip

Andrew Dice Clay’s reality show should have been called Rollin’ with Dice.  I was going to make a graphic, but fuck it (heehee!).

Drunken Recollection… A Toilet Paper Roll’s Worth Of Ideas

Ever hear about fortress games?  Me neither.  But my friend Jay has recently become obsessed with them.  Our other friend has mocked him for purchasing so many different versions of the same game, but it should be noted that he owns dozens of first person shooters.  Touché.  (Or more appropriately, too lame.)

Any360, apparently I was familiar with fortress games, and in fact owned one myself:

Plants Vs. Zombies - A Battle for My Heart

It’s a fun game.  And a time drainer.  The concept is simple – build up your fortress to defend against invaders.  In the case of Plants Vs. Zombies, you plant vegetation to battle the living dead approaching your home.

Well prior to realizing what a fortress game was, I had Jay explain them to me.  He told me it was a single-player game, and I told him it’d be better as a multi-player.  Then voilá!  That should be a game!

A game where you get to be both the plants AND the zombies!  Each player would setup their zombie line of attack prior to beginning, and then as the war waged on, you’d arrange your plants!  For example.  Obviously it could be anything in the _____ vs. _____ situation.

Next item!  A new website!

Is any of that answer in English?

Yes, the site would be based on the above question:

uglychicksthatthinktheyrehot.com

I mentioned this idea at a Detroit Tiger’s game (hence the reason for the other mindedness), and a woman seated next to me that was attractive also liked the idea.

Next item! Exploding bats!

How awesome would it be if baseball bats exploded after every hit?

Answer: Very.

Drunken Recollection… Things To Investigate If I Remember Them (Which I Did)

That's one way to do it...

Do you get drunk faster by drinking beer through a straw?

Per Wiki Answers (and I guess, common sense):

The drinking implement is not important. The speed at which you drink is. If you drink more in a shorter space of time then yes, naturally. Pretty self-explanatory really.

This one was a two-parter: 1) As a kid, did I not watch M*A*S*H* because of the theme song?

Yes.  It’s terrible.

2) Would I have liked it if it had a different theme song?

I don’t see why not.

Is “The Mike Game” a fun game to play?

Yes.  Once you understand the complicated rules.

Somebody told me there was a Polish dog that was saved from an iceberg…

and there was.  They named him “Baltic”… you know, after the sea Polish fisherman found him on.  I named my dog the same way!

The Opposite of a Hot Dog

Find the update on the situation here (and for an update on The Situation here).  Now I’m going to go grab a beer and a straw, relax, and watch an old episode of Baywatch with my dog, “Outside the Strip Club.”

Drunken Recollection… DrunkWonderings

While boozing with my fellow booze hounds not to long ago, a few wonderings popped in my head.  These are them (is that proper English or proper drunk-speak?):

1) As a child, I was a fan of the wrong film series.

"I've made a huge mistake."

For most of my life, it’s been Star Wars all the way for me, baby.  And as an (alleged) adult, I’ve paid for it dearly, both figuratively and literally.

  • Figuratively… in the sense that James Bond would have fostered my inner Lothario, as opposed to Luke Skywalker inspiring my inner whiny “hero.”  (Granted, I could have looked to Han Solo, but he didn’t have a lightsaber and couldn’t use the Force.)
  • Literally… in the sense that I spent way too much fucking money on toys in a bid to recapture my lost youth.

On the other hand, if I had idolized Agent 007, I might have lived a life of danger (both in and out of the bedroom), but definitely his love of gadgetry would one day complement mine.

2) I should have picked different friends.

"Will the real Slim Shady please stand up?"

Some of my friends I’ve known since I was four years old.  And at times I’m left to wonder, what does a kid know?  I already mentioned that I chose to make Luke Skywalker my hero and not James Bond when I was a young ‘un.  The incident that triggered this thought:

  • A friend-that-shall-go-unnamed-(though-he-knows-who-he-is) ran around Hooters getting the entire staff to sign the calendar he purchased for his toddler son.  Although one girl was clever (and inappropriate).  She wrote:

May your dreams be wet, and your diapers stay dry.  (Or something like that.)

  • To be honest, it was the gayest heterosexual thing I’ve ever witnessed.

3) Why does twelve seem like it’s a plural form of twelf, like how it is with pants and pant?

4) If going “number one” and “number two” means what they mean, what would going “number three” on up represent?

BONUS SOBER WONDERING, WHICH I GUESS SHOULD BE A JusWondering:

Why can’t I stop watching this video?

Here’s the shortened version for a maximized quick hit: