Archive for December, 2007

Flights of the not-so-Fancy

Over Thanksgiving weekend Mrs. ACW and I decided that since there was so much to do around the house and for our respective courses, that we should instead do nothing. So we got a plan in our head to head on down to the libary to rent us up some movies.

On the way we managed to persuade Mokie to join us, but it wasn’t really hard because he generally spends his time sitting around doing nothing anyway.

At some point while we were trying to decide what movies to watch (Mallrats and Mean Girls, by the way. Mallrats is a classic, of course. And Mean Girls was actually really funny, and caught Lindsay Lohan at her peak, just before she lost all the weight that made her attractive in the first place, and just before she became a swirling Charybdis of coke-fueled STDs.) I decided that we should drink a flight of beers and do a beer tasting. We had all day, so there’s no reason why we shouldn’t.

So we went to the liquor store to pick up some beers, when I got an even AWESOMER idea: we should do a beer tasting of a flight of shitty beers. The idea was proposed to the group, sent to the Ways and Means committee to determine if funds and livers were in good enough shape to support this endeavor, returned for a vote with a rider attached suggesting that we should also buy a bag of Doritos, and then passed with a unanimous vote of 3 yeas and 0 nays.

In case you can’t tell, that’s Corona, Miller Lite, Becks, Budweiser, MGD, and Colt 45 surrounding Wookie, who is occupying the place in the box that was previously occupied by a 6 of Guinness. Hey, we had to buy SOMETHING that was actually worth drinking.

Through a complicated system of pouring beers so that no one knew what they were drinking, we eventually got all the beers into glasses, ready to be consumed.

In case you can’t tell, that last one says, “URINE SPECIMEN BOTTLE”. It’s okay though, it’s sterilized. Yes, I’m sure. I’m absolutely sure. I own an autoclave, okay? Don’t ask.

I think we’ve since lost the list that says exactly who guessed correctly or incorrectly about which beer was which, but I do remember a few things:

-Becks tastes like a skunk took a dump in a bucket of piss

-Mokie and Mrs. ACW are apparently incapable of distinguishing Colt 45 from Miller Lite

-All shitty beers have the same color and consistency

-I guessed all the beers correctly! I am the king of shitty beer!

Is Columbus, Ohio in da hizzay?

Can you help a brother out with some restaurant recommendations? In return, the next time I call the internet “bitches” or “fuckfaces” or “effluvium-snorting cock-holes” you will be excluded.

I hate to have to write about the snow again

But people are fucking imbeciles, so I am forced to do so.

If you are so terrified of a dry, snow-free road that you have to drive at 25 miles per hour (a road, I should mention, that typically travels at about 50 to 60 miles per hour) you should probably keep your timid, nutless, pants-wetting ass home, rather than fuck shit up for the rest of us.

To be clear: Stay. The Fuck. Home. You are not important. Your job is not important. The world would not miss you for a decade, much less a day.

Everyone hates you.

The apocalypse is upon us

Prepare yourselves for the coming Armageddon.

These flurries will surely rend souls from flesh and leave the region nothing less than a scarred and smoking crater, forsooth!

P.S. Even minuscule amounts of snow makes Marylanders idiots.

Back after these messages

Working on my final paper for my class, so I’ll leave you with this until Thursday:

I am awesome. You are a bitch.

Discuss.

Are you hitting on me, Amazon.com?

So while searching for a long-sleeve, tagless, grey, cotton, medium-sized Hanes Perfect-T in the Hanes Amazon.com store, I stumbled across this image.

Is it just me, or is the guy in the boxers trying to hide a half-chub?




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