drinking

Here’s Some Tasty Competition, Taco Bell! (I Still <3 U)

Posted on by sgottahurt

La Shish kabob-bye!

La Shish kabob-bye!

I always pass closed La Shish restaurants in my travels, and it makes me sad that shady underpinnings (a euphemism for alleged terrorist funding if there ever was one) forced them to go, um, under.  Although I’d eaten at one of the original restaurants more than once (I assume that either of the Michigan Avenue locations in Dearborn was the first), I always thought it would be great that a local Arab cuisine could go national as a chain.

Oh well.  C’est la shish…  Other versions of La Shish have popped up in its place, even stealing its logo design, but they don’t have the same momentum as the original.  That is why I suggest going another route and follow My Taco Bell Plan.

In only one weekend, I can train any entrepreneur how to climb that mountain of creating a monster franchise and ring that bell at the top!

  • Step 1)  You need a catchy name.  Witness how Taco Bell rolls off the tongue.  Taaaaco Bell, Taaacooo Belllll.  La Shish worked well, but it name is tarnished.  My suggestion: Kebob Stop.  My other client, Dim Sum Gong, is already achieving some success.
  • Step 2) Ah, not so fast… you’re going to have to subscribe to my program to learn the rest.  For a flat fee of $20,000, I will teach you details to secrets like these: Lego style food design (Taco Bell makes, like, 30 dishes out of, like, eight items), signing a deal with PepsiCo (you have to get Mt. Dew, I promise you), and After Hours marketing (drinking and fast food go hand-in-hand… as does anonymous sex).

I’m also looking for developers for my Pierogi To Go and Taka Sushi restaurants.  Act now!

JusWondering… Can “Demolition Man” Be Right About Taco Bell?

Posted on by sgottahurt

Tacotacotacotacotacotacotaco Bell, Ding Ding!

Tacotacotacotacotacotacotaco Bell, Ding Ding!

For some people, getting recognized at any local establishment might be embarrassing.  For me, it’s something I strive for.  I like being a regular.  I enjoy the “Norm”-factor. On the bar scene, it’s great.  At a Taco Bell?  I might have to admit that I have a spicy meat and waxy cheese problem.

It occurred this past week when I got to the window.  The attendant remembered me and joked that my soda had “extra ice, just how you like it.”  Simply because I always order a #8 soft shell with a Mt. Dew no ice, and I have my four dollars and two cents in exact change, that doesn’t make me an addict.  And even if it does, it’s not my fault.  It’s because all those other asshole places don’t have as winning a strategy as my beloved Taco Bell.

  • First off: very few joints have my Spruce Juice.  It’s a Pepsi product, and since Coke is uber-global, the only other place I can Do the Dew is at KFC or Quizno’s. 
  • Second off: it’s a matter of price.  If I don’t go the soda route at the drive-thru (because I’m already packing), how can you beat $2.52 for a meal?  Well, except for a double dose of Mickey D’s double-cheeseburgers.  (Really, they should be cheese doubleburgers, right?)  Still, a meal and a drink for $4.02?  Zno’s and KuFCa are like MC Hammer in that “They do want they wanna do, say what they wanna say, live how they wanna live, play how they wanna play, dance how they wanna dance, kick and they slap a friend…” (Oh!  You thought it was going to be “They can’t touch this!”  That would have been better.)
  • Third off (a.k.a. the Bra-Layer, whereas the first would be shirt, and the second would be pants): the meat is a crap shoot.  Wait – that sounds terrible.  What I mean is, sometimes you might get jacked on the amount of beef or cheese you get, and sometimes you get hooked the f up.  It mixes gambling and eating and I like it!

All in all, I’m down with TB.  And I don’t care if I’m a regular.  I’ll be happy if it wins the “Franchise Wars.”  Now if you’ll excuse me – I just finished eating some Grande Soft Tacos and I have to go poop.

InASense, Lost… Vodka Tampons And Butt Beer Bongs

Posted on by sgottahurt

Chalk this one up in the category of “now I’ve seen everything.”  Necessity is the mother f-er of invention, and leave it to the people of this day and age to come up with this (or the children and kids, as the lead idiot doctor puts it):

Vodpod videos no longer available.

 

 

Now, aside from the fact that this may or may not be something new to the scene, one aspect of consideration remains: Stupidly, who gave these stupid doctors a show?  (<— In reference to random ethnic lady doc’s double vag comment… hilarious!  No?  Oh, well.)

One of my friends from back in the day, John, put it best.  At a Halloween party on U of M’s campus, one of our mutual friend’s roommates – who was a space aeronautics and astrophysics student, mind you – decided to streak around the block.  John’s observation: “I guess it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to be a rocket scientist.”  Check and mate!

(via Best Week Ever)

Drunken Recollection… Drinking Math Sucks!

Posted on by sgottahurt

Now with more granite!

Now with more granite!

Okay… I feel like I’m at full steam again.  It’s not like I haven’t drank ten pounds of beer before, but at age 33, I might as well be drinking Quikrete.  Actually, I don’t even think it’s so much of an age thing, or an amount of food eaten thing.  It comes down to a timetable.

In Chicago – 12 lbs. beer / 8 hrs = ah, who cares… I was going to make a big math post about drinking and yada yada… Since it’s already boring me, I’ll shift gears and chat about dead people jewelry.

Did you know you can turn the ashes of a loved one (already deceased preferable) into a diamond?  How crazy is that?  I mean, I guess it make more sense than keeping an urn on the fireplace mantle, but still.

It may seem insensitive (probably because it is), but I wonder what other kinds of memorabilia could fashioned out of cremated remains:

Maybe a Japanese Zen Garden.  How about a fingerprinting kit (human carbon has to be a lot safer than asbestos).  Then there’s always an idea like Litter Critters…

Kiss My Glass (J/K… You Really Should Recycle)

Posted on by sgottahurt

Knowing my cousin, Steve, and his friends, they maaay have been drunk when they made this commercial for one of his classes.  But then again, his classmates might not be his friends, and therefore they weren’t drunk.  Either way, I think they did a smashing job.  (Ha!  It’s about recycling glass!)

They’re in a contest against other students to get the most hits on YouTube.  This is me trying to help out.  That makes me a winner!

Drunken Recollection… Instant Hangover TV

Posted on by sgottahurt

First, turn off the sound to this video.  It’s completely irrelevant to the experience (and that’s how I originally saw it).  Now pretend you’re bombed:

I was at one of my local hangouts, pounding back a few ol’ El Millerlitos, when this damn CNBC show caught my eye on the table’s flat screen.  It wasn’t this particular segment, but what I bore witness to was a brain derailment.  She was pretty enough on her own (she being Carmen Wong-Ulrich, a.k.a. The Great American Mixing Pot), but what happens at the 1:10 mark persisted for what seemed like ten minutes.  At the time of the inebriation, I sat in stunned disbelief and nausea because I couldn’t tell if the camera was moving or the background.  And what’s with the insane amount of jarring cuts!

Might be fun to watch high, though…

Drunken Recollection… Does Marijuana Have Stem Cells?

Posted on by sgottahurt

Aristotle Adobe? Socraterra Cotta!

Aristotle Adobe? Socraterra Cotta!

Group time is philosophy time for me… pure and simple.  That’s how the Greeks did it (I presume their poison might have been strapping young lads); that’s how the Beats did it (they sure loved their opiates); and for me – it’s the bar and the beer.

In Michigan, Proposals 1 and 2 both passed, and while the legalization of marijuana for medical use gets a fair poke with the jokes, it was the stem cell research that started the rant.  (Okay, none of this is really philosophizing… maybe it’s hypothesizing… or “making shit up”…)

Anyweed, I launched a tangent about where I see the research going.  I mean, when I was young lad playing with Play-Doh (wait – what?), I didn’t expect things like corrective eye surgery, tendon replacements, or cloning to ever be possible.  After all, could cowboys imagine TV?

I know the tests so far haven’t provided anything as spectacular as regrowing hair in bald spots or reconnecting injured spinal cords (I’m not weighing these examples as the same, at all… yes I am).  But in time, these leaps in medicine may happen.  Things like head/brain transplants could be as common as corrective eye surgery.

The flip-side, of course, is the mad scientist aspect – that things like head/brain transplants could be as common as corrective eye surgery.  Will individuals be able to personalize themselves with the genetic equivalent of tattoos and piercings (“hey, check out my back ears”)?  I still feel we’ll know there’s been progress when we see a headline akin to this: “Scientists Accidentally Give Test Subject Vision… Via His Penis.” 

The upside to that scenario is you could tuck a video iPod in your drawers and watch a movie while at work… sorry ladies.  Although you already do have the magic bullet… and I’m not talking about the blender.

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

Posted on by sgottahurt

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?

Drunken Recollection… Movies of the Week Circa 1980

Posted on by sgottahurt

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

Posted on by sgottahurt

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.