…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?)
I could have scribbled this post of drunken ramblings about how much a stone weighs in Britain (14 lbs.), or what the temperature of horse blood is (98-101°F) and how it pertains to the creation of degrees Fahrenheit, but I won’t.
Instead, I’m going to have a Drunken Recollection about bums. And I’m not talking about bums in a mean, anti-homeless way. This is merely an examination of the variety of terms used in regard to bums.
We were at the bar discussing the wide array of names used in books, television, and cinema, and how there was no real differentiation between types.
Until now.
Allow me to present a Venn diagram that I made to display the degrees of differences. It took two attempts, because my first one didn’t truly capture the essence of a Venn diagram.
Agree? Disagree? Disapprove? Let me know in the comments. My excuse will be simply: “I was drunk.” Which could be a phrase muttered by many of those below…
My friend Jay works with a bunch of middle-aged shop guys (please take that as a euphemism), and as is common practice amongst those in that industry, the loony bin rejects spew a bunch of bullshit out of their mouths (so much for any euphemisms).
Every so often, Jay asks me to check out the validity of comets heading towards Earth, or if there really are three-breasted women doing porn. And I do – often in the name of Drunken Recollections. This latest effort is to get to the bottom of whether Rihanna’s song Umbrella is about how she sold her soul to The Devil.
This video is even long for my tastes, but I recommend checking it all out for curiosity’s sake (or jump to about the 4:30 mark):
That’s some heavy crazy analysis. This one sees Satan in another place (his “semen” I guess):
And click here for a complete breakdown of the lyrics.
So What Do I Ultimately Think?
If someone can analyze the hell out of a video (so to speak) and find images of the occult, or the Illuminati, or whatever, then someone making a video could have just as easily put all those things in there. Does it mean Rihanna or Jay-Z are Satanists? Who cares. Worshipping Baphomet at least makes more sense than worshipping Xenu…
…and for the record, let’s not bring this up again when drinking, Jay. It’s kind of a buzz killer.
Because I’m kind of afraid.
They also hate Mondays (but they do love themselves).
Again, this is a song that’s been out for a long time, but I only recently listened to Lil Wayne’s 6’7′ enough to hear this lyric:
Real Gs move in silence like lasagna…
I was drinking heavily at the time, so my bemusement over such a strange lyric was definitely intensified. There’s plenty of “controversy” over whether the G in lasagna really is silent, amongst other things, but I find rhyming lasagna with behind ya and kinda to be kinda lazy… another thing Garfield and Lil Wayne have in common.
(SIDENOTE: It’s only fair to admit that at least he’s not making up words to rhyme.)
What I posit to question is why not choose any of these other words with real silent G’s:
What I propose to attempt is my own rap using the above words… *clears throat*
Imma design a campaign to send pain yo way
To gnaw at you raw till you fall like Bin Lay-
Den you can roam the globe like some gnome with no home
Foreign lands full of gnats and king’s coal and no comb
By the size of your sighs, diaphragm’s showin’ signs
Your reign will stop raining, you’re not Shaq – you resigned
I don’t know where that “anger” came from… *bows*
Oh wait, I forgot this line: Real Gs move in silence like bologna…
It seems like a lot of Drunken Recollections are about mix-ups, so why not create a term for it:
ALCONFUSION
This post is about a pair of moments of alconfusion… one on my behalf, one on behalf of another.
While in Kentucky for the derby, I was at the bar and somebody was talking about Rachel Nichols and her possible hook-ups with most of the NFL or NBA or whatever… that’s neither here nor there. They were talking about the sportscaster from ESPN:
Rachel Nichols, daughter of director Mike Nichols and her mother
I thought they were talking about this Rachel Nichols:
Except she's not normally green...
Hopefully this will help:
Yo Joe, indeed.
So my alconfusion was me thinking they were speaking ill of actress Rachel Nichols when they weren’t. They were just speaking ill of the sportscaster I don’t find attractive know.
I was going to write about Lupe Fiasco’s The Show Goes On a while back because it liberally borrows from Modest Mouse’s Float On, but the song’s creators acknowledged that at the time of release, so I didn’t. But I get to write about it today.
While this tune played at the bar, a friend asked who performed this Float On rip-off. I answered correctly, but what she thought I said cracked me up.
I replied:
Lupe Fiasco
She heard:
Beefy Asshole
On three occasions from three different friends I was asked about the validity of each of these videos. I think on some level, in each situation, my friends knew these weren’t real or true. But on another, perhaps spiritual, level, they wanted these to be real or true. Why? Well, I get the second one, but the others? No thanks.
My friend Jess brought this video up, knowing full well how I feel about aliens, and by the time I finally mustered the sauce to catch up on it (see what I did there?), fear did not overcome me. Not even a little. That translates to: FAKE.
Don’t watch the video unless you want to be tortured prior to our inevitable demise. My friend Jason likes bringing this one up, plus all the updates and refutations he’s found. He’s new to the TripleDoubleU, so I forgive him. This gist is this:
By September of this year, we’re all gonna die.
The gist of my response to that is this:
Keep on drinking!
Ooookay… so chair dancing might not be the best descriptor.
While drinking one night (hence the post’s header), I stated there should be a dance competition between seated performers. Specifically, you can dance your ass off, but your ass must remain planted on a chair. Hence chair dancing sit down dancing.
Here are some videos I found of others with the same idea:
At least it’s better than this:
This is an old battle I’ve been meaning to revisit for quite some time. It’s a war of semantics and the preferred way of getting my hands dirty.
The alcoholic argument I’ve had with cohorts goes like so:
In any given situation, with any given group of girls, one girl is always the hottest…
Sometimes the bar has been set so low that the hottest girl might not be as hot in other situations…
Thus she is __________ hot.
This is the point of contention. What word best describes the type of hot:
CLASSROOM vs. WORKPLACE
To illustrate my point, let’s use Blake Lively and Eliza Dushku as objects subjects:
Here they are in basic bathing suits.
Both look stunning in their conservative attire, and are definitely above par for the course of this discussion. Nonetheless, let’s imagine two rooms full of regular women, with one of them in each room.
For Blake Lively, she would be designated hot of course. But would you say she’s CLASSROOM hot? Meaning that in any given classroom situation, she’d be the hottest girl?
For Eliza Dushku, would you prefer the term WORKPLACE hot? Meaning that any workplace, she’d be the hottest girl?
Classroom vs. Workplace
Okay. I’m probably not making myself clear here. I’m getting distracted by the pretty ladies.
Which term is the better classifier? I argue CLASSROOM because you’re a part of a smaller group within the larger machine – SCHOOL.
Some friends argue that it seems creepy, and that WORKPLACE works as a better classifier. I would retaliate with the fact that we’re discussing classifications, but I did use the word work… so I’ll say that if they said BOARDROOM hot, they’d be on the same page.
But maybe we’re all wrong, and there is only one clear way to explain this idea of the regular girl rising to the top of regular girls to become hottest – and no, it’s not the HIGHLANDER way of “There can be only one!” But it is just as nerdy:
COMIC CON HOT
For your consideration..
The proof in the figgy pudding, Jessica Nigri (also known as The Comic Con Girl or The Pikachu Girl):
Shirt open, case closed.
Apparently, this happens:
At the bar, someone brought up the fact they used to play this in high school. (I still doubt they played it. Seems kind of potentially dangerous.) But nonetheless, I didn’t believe, and in not believing, I made an ass of myself.
The last time I didn’t believe, it was about this being possible:
I had to eat crow after that.
Thanks, I’m here all night!
I’ve mentioned it before – I love IFC’s Portlandia. It’s finished its six-episode run, and will be back some time next year, but one night while drinking, I learned something about one of its guest stars, Aimee Mann. Here’s a sample of her appearance:
I thought I never heard of her, since I never saw Magnolia or heard her song from it:
But as I said, I thought I never heard of her…
I had no idea the lead singer from ‘Til Tuesday was the same person in Portlandia!
Also, another drunken night, I watched Letterman or Fallon and this performer came on:
Soooo…
I had no idea the lead singer from ‘Til Tuesday was the same person in Portlandia!
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