Cups Runneth Over: The War Against Beer Pong in Time Magazine

Interestingly, Time Magazine posted an article recently, about the 'War Against Beer Pong'.

Now, we're no strangers to the game, having played it at our book launch, and we're certainly no strangers to writing about it:

For those of you who missed it, click here and here.




Cheers,

The Beer Pong Champions of the Greater Toronto Area,

The Shark Guys

Royals Sample Carbon Neutral Beer: Chuck and Camilla Chug Cold Ones

As Canadians, we're grateful for all the Royal Family have given us, namely a holiday in May that coincides with warmer weather, and currency featuring the Queen, whose craggy visage youngsters can fold into creative shapes when they're old enough to earn an allowance.

We've also noted how gratifying it is to find a crumpled twenty in the pocket of a pair of slacks and included only one tale involving royalty in our who's who of drunks, The Man Who Scared a Shark to Death and Other True Tales of Drunken Debauchery, and that concerned a footman who was adding whiskey to the water bowls of the royal corgis – an offense which, although funny, resulted in his demotion.

According to reports, the Prince of Wales and Duchess of Cornwall were in Suffolk recently, sampling 'carbon neutral' beer (there are conflicting reports as to whether it was flat or fizzy) and arriving by helicopter as befitting such an eco-friendly event.

Here are pictures of the couple testing the 'beer goggles' phenomenon they've no doubt heard so much about.

20 Worst City Names in North America: You Can't Beat a Dead Horse, Alaska

At the risk of never being given the keys to the city of Crapo Maryland, where you might not to want to open anything anyway, namely a business, there are some places that are just plain unappealing to the ear---as opposed to say, the state of Indiana*, which is unappealing to each of the other senses as well.
[*Editor's note: It could be worse. It could be farther away from its main selling point---proximity to Chicago]

There are towns that for whatever reason struck 'appeal to tourists' off the local chamber of commerce agendas, watched the Rotarians rotate their wheels out of Dodge and whose mayors are currently in the process of decommissioning our welcome wagons.

These are places where a road sign pointing to them, even with the gas tank registering near empty, would have you lead foot it down the interstate and take your chances getting stranded somewhere while some maniac with a billhook muttering something about 'city folk' chops you into the next episode of CSI.

Now, at the risking of offending anyone outside Indiana state lines (a state so ugly it should be annexed, partitioned and sold off to the highest bidder--perhaps if a sultan in Bahrain needs somewhere to work out the finer points of his Ferrari's 5-speed transmission) we should note that we've never actually been to any of the offending towns on account of never experiencing break pad trouble anywhere in their vicinity, (though one of us sped through Gary quite quickly) but we're sure they're all lovely places.



1. Dildo, Newfoundland The stagette gift that turns party-goers into short-form improvisational comedians, and if the party is held at an upper end restaurant will result in a board of health citation, this device is also the most embarrassing item that can be seized at customs (doubly so if you're a man and with any sort of standing in the community, say the comptroller for Lizard Lick, NC)

2. Flushing, New York, Drain, Oregon Two names that refer to sending something through pipes, like say, E.coli through your intestines or a hole that attracts flies, these plumbing-themed dud names are a plunger and a snake away from causing serious water damage to your bathroom tiles and your psyche.


3. Bald Knob, Arkansas A particular sexual predilection detailed in the back pages of the Village Voice, or an insult hurled out the window at a chrome-dome trucker who cut you off.








4. Dead Horse, Alaska What more could we say about it without invoking the phrase? If your town is a 'one horse' one, better make sure the beast isn't glue factory-bound.

5. Hellhole, Idaho / Hell, Michigan 'Hell' might mean bright in German, but these name choices aren't. If Hell was at a lower latitude, instead of Michigan, at least in the summer it would lend itself to 'It's hotter than Hell", "No it isn't" repartee.





6. Crapo, Maryland Indeed.





7. Asbestos,Quebec Like Fleatown (below), don't make any long term plans to stay. If you can't stand the heat, get out of the asbestos kitchen. Can explain the high absentee level due to incarceration/death at your next high school reunion.



8. Red Lick, Mississippi French Lick, Indiana, Lizard Lick, North Carolina Larry Bird may have put French Lick on the map, but technical fouls all around and a clang off the irons for these burgs.




9. Dismal, Tennessee
1. obsolete : disastrous, dreadful
2: showing or causing gloom or depression
3: lacking merit : particularly bad


10. Hicksville, New York Probably not the most sophisticated center for learning and culture.

11. Boogertown, North Carolina One good thing about Boogertown, is that it's in Gaston County, Cito Gaston having captained the Toronto Blue Jays to back to back World Series wins. This may be a stretch, but why don't YOU come up with something for a substance a construction worker shoots out his left nostril.




12. Fleatown, Ohio Brought in from a curbside mattress. Don't make any hotel reservations.


13. Boring, Oregon Oregon town five-finger discount of Salt Lake's de facto title.









14. Ogle, Kentucky You may want to think twice about using the hotel pool. A creepy uncle at a 4-H jamboree, whose hugs linger on a little too long.

15. Hardup, Utah, Blueball Pennsylvania When it comes to new names, these towns aren't gettin' any and neither are you.










16. Spread Eagle, Wisconsin A city that's tough on crime, but leaves you feeling compromised.




17. Rudeville, New Jersey A ten-cent tip town.


18. Lynch, Kentucky / Swastika, Ontario Not exactly doing wonders for the tourism industry, and hopefully not given to showing civic pride through parades.









19. Downer, Minnesota Dismal, TN's sister city.

20. Recluse, Wyoming Along with 'no fixed address' and 'loner' this term makes up the serial killer trifecta.

Drunks Shooting Stuff: …And God’s Mercy on the Wild Lawnmower Man

Continuing our series on drunken shotgun violence (see Friday’s entry on a moose being sent to that hunting lodge wall in the sky [though the moose was the drunk party in that one]), we would be remiss if we failed to report on the case of a Milwaukee man who engaged in armed combat with that highly tempting target – a gas-powered lawnmower.

The duty to mow a lawn on a regular basis is enough to make anyone, even those who don’t break out into hives at the mere sight of anything green and outdoors, want to permanently live in an apartment. (And the sound of some inconsiderate lawn-loving prick starting up his lawnmower bright and early on a Saturday morning while you’re trying to sleep off a hangover should be a justifiable cause for homicide.)

When your lawnmower is a piece of junk that takes numerous pulls and expletives to get started, it’s not surprising that you might be tempted to do the thing grievous harm. And such was the case with our Milwaukee friend (Editor’s Note: Given its size, Wisconsin is amply represented on this website. See here for more), who had spent the morning drinking, decided in the early afternoon to mow his lawn (the best time), couldn’t get it started, and ended up shooting the thing with a sawed-off shotgun. A neighbor, of the rat-fink variety of neighbor, phoned police and he was arrested, charged with drunken disorderly conduct and also for having the sawed-off shotgun in the first place (the ‘sawed-off’ part makes it illegal).

The weapons charge is likely the one that sees him facing an incredible potential six-year prison term, however the defendant in this case offered a defence that we’d accept if we somehow were unable to dodge jury duty and found ourselves listening to this case. “"I can do that," he told police. "It’s my lawn mower and my yard, so I can shoot it if I want." And damn it, he’s right! It’s not like the shotgun blast ricocheted and fell some neighbor out trimming the bougainvillea. The only victim here was a crap lawnmower that had it coming anyway. And if a man can’t get drunk and disorderly in his own home, then where exactly can he? Being able to shoot up your lawnmower while pie-eyed before the PM is exactly what freedom is all about.

And as a tribute of sorts to our lawnmower man friend for sticking up for everyone’s right to get a bit ripped and reckless, we have compiled here some clips of others doing just that. As any seasoned emergency-room nurse will tell you, drinking and guns do mix and here is video proof of just how often:

First for those of you who need a visual to fully comprehend what the destruction of a lawnmower entails, here it is:

A scenic train ride in the Russian countryside isn’t complete unless you take a moment to fire a few shotgun blasts out the window. Bonus: the guy doing the shooting is a well known Russian politician.

Camping: An attempt to commune with nature while shooting up whiskey bottles and going on drunken wheelbarrow rides.

The William Tell legend but with two drunken buddies instead of the father and son and a stuffed animal in place of the apple. No word on whether this pair of Darwin Awards contenders continued to be as lucky.

And of course, a blog like this would not be complete without a mention of the patron saint of intoxicated people shooting up stuff, a man who spent the last quarter of his life pretty much doing exactly that, the good doctor Hunter S. Thompson. A classic clip from Conan O’Brien:

via videosift.com

Shark-bite DVD Review: Heartbreak Kid: Fleecing the audience like the Patagonia product line

"You should go with the Patagonia. It's made from 100% recycled material."

Nothing will have you have you reaching for a bottle of antacids and chasing it with a gulp of de-fizzed Canada Dry like hammer-fisted product placements, and if you do manage to slip the first punch (a camera shot that lingers on the Patagonia sign in Stiller's sporting goods store) the ringing endorsement above will surely put you on the canvas.

The Heartbreak Kid is recycled material too. Enough to re-pave an LA freeway.

Or San Francisco, in this case.

Stiller plays the role that has lingered in a Hollywood blue box container for years, albeit more often with the fairer sex: the guy, in this case, who just can't seem to settle down/keeps meeting the wrong person, who has numerous character failings that are offset by being a genuinely nice guy (discovered by a 'nice girl' counterpart who at first doesn't take notice but gradually comes to do so---or not so gradually as it seems, as these romantic comedies are always criminally overlong).

Stiller is 'Eddie', the socially awkward, put upon, Bay City hard luck chump who bemoans his single-hood and is dispensed not so paternal advice ('you should be crushing pussy') from real life dad Jerry.

His good Samaritan ways capture the attention of the mugging victim, Swedish knock-out Malin Akerman ('Lila') and after six weeks of whirlwind courtship, an atmospheric event that unfortunately didn't send the pages of the Neil Simon script adaptation flying in a direction away from whoever green-lighted this--they end up in Cabo on a honeymoon.

This is where things begin to unravel. Unlike the charmer he was earlier: 'A UFO is an 'FO' to them [aliens], 'cause they know what it is', she is soon put off by most of his interests, and he by hers especially when finding out she is not really an environmental researcher (apparently, the phrase 'exactly what kind of research are you involved in?' or 'what did you study in college that led you down this career path?' didn't come up in the weeks leading up to their nuptials) but some kind of hippie granola volunteer who hands out pamphlets, and wants to move to Holland.

After suspecting their personalities aren't quite as compatible as previously thought, Eddie finds out this is the case sexually as well (apparently, their six week courtship was an abstinent one), with a painful, in both senses of the word, string of related gags.

Despite his warning that she don sunscreen, Lila suffers a debilitating sun burn and Stiller's Eddie does what any supportive husband would do: leaves her alone, goes down to the beach, drinks himself silly and hits it off with a southern belle and her charming family who he then proceeds to bamboozle in every way imaginable to keep up the single charade, until he's found out and has to make amends with all concerned.

If you've heard all this before, you have, except this time with the Farrelly Brothers stock-in-trade: obscene latrine humor and a really sick donkey sex sight gag with the beast of burden sporting wood.

While a similar gag actually worked in Clerks II, and at this point I can't believe there is a cinematic precedent, it, like all the others gags here, seems to fall flaccid. The camera lingers on for too long (especially harsh in this instance) and the brief bits of physical comedy just seem arbitrary and out of place. It should be mentioned, so does Seth Rogan, who pops his head into one scene for the briefest of cameos, hands someone a beer and seems embarrassed to be there and leaves.

And quite rightly.

Miles away from his San Francisco sporting goods store, Patagonia rears its head again, this time as a reference to a 'bunch of suppliers' Eddie supposedly met on the beach, a gambit to thwart his increasingly leery wife, a half-wit to the beguiling Stiller, but still undeserving of such cruel deceit while laid up in a hotel bed. Pleading with his suspicious bride Stiller blurts: "Patagonia is my biggest supplier. I carry their entire line".

The audience, nor her, are buying it and at the end of the day, are fleeced.

Chris, Toronto
www.thesharkguys.com

Drunk Moose on the Loose! Justice is Swift and Final for Drunken Toddler-Biting Beast

If anyone, Ben Stein for instance, needs proof that Darwin offered more than just creative fuel for the Nazis (a key point in the ironically-titled film featuring one-joke Ferris Bueller prof [and former Nixon lackey] Stein: “Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed”), one need look no further than at how our animal friends seem to enjoy fermented beverages just as much as your second-cousin Murray the Mooch (who incidentally also looks like a stork, thus further strengthening the point).

We did not leave out the wild kingdom (Mutual of Omaha version or otherwise) in our compendium of drunken exploits, “The Man Who Scared a Shark to Death: And Other True Tales of Drunken Debauchery.” Indeed, two chapters are devoted to it – “Man Bites Dog and Dog Bites Back,” (the animals were sober in most of these stories, but the humans – like the guy who broke into a zoo late at night so his buddies could watch him wrestle a bear – were not) and “Crapulent Critters,” which features, among others, a raging drunken chimpanzee, an alcoholic and foul-tempered parrot, and ripped royal corgis. Also in that chapter is a small “Dishonorable Mention” entry about elk (the kind of elk that in North America we would refer to as moose) hopped up on fermented apples and terrorizing a senior’s center.

When you’ve been covering drunks in the news for as long as we have, certain patterns begin to emerge: at Christmas time, drunks in Santa suits will gather en masse and start a riot, and, it’s just as certain, that Swedish moose will never know when it’s time to push away from the bar and go home once they start gorging on fermented apples. The connection between moose and alcoholism presumably explains why the worst themed bars you can possibly set foot in that aren't ersatz Irish places like Mickey Mcfinnigan's Macgregor Pub & Grill are those with “Moose” in their names -- “The Loose Moose” etc. (though we're sure that the place is a first-rate establishment, or at least the best you can hope for so far removed from civilization.)

In the latest case of a drunken moose terrorizing a Swede, a three-year-old girl was playing in a sandpit when a moose, intoxicated on fermented apples, sauntered by and bit her on the arm. Reports were vague as to whether the child had been drinking at the time or had done anything to provoke the beast. Regardless though, any such actions on the tot's part would have to be balanced with the 500-800 pound weight advantage that the moose had on its side. The girl let out the kind of piercing shriek that one images one would (even in one’s 30s) when bit by a giant drunken animal, her mother came rushing to her aid and the moose made a drunken zigzag for higher ground.

Unfortunately for the moose, escaping backwoods justice would not be so easy. A renegade posse of hunters, bent on vigilante justice, waited for him at the site of the fermented apples. When he returned for another intoxicating gobble, the hunters shot his ass. Wildlife officials said it was extremely rare for a moose to actually bite a person, though it would be far more common for a moose to kick to death or trample somebody, basically like a bunch of bikers at a social function. The summary execution then seems understandable given that other unattended Swedish children might have met such a fate.

And since we have a yearly limit of stories about misbehaving animals drunk on fermented fruit -- we keep them to one such story per year (unless by eating the fermented apples the animal somehow gains the ability to speak, in which case we'll blog about little else for a long while) -- here is a scene from the documentary "Animals are Beautiful People" of more than one species getting blasted on the stuff (and yes, as suspected, giraffes do make for dignified-looking drunks).

Happy National Tequila Day! (also, Happy Cheap Marketing Ploy Day!)

Well, today is National Tequila Day, a day whose origin we traced back to the maker of a particular tequila, who, in a recent survey determined that "84% of respondents were interested in learning how to mix easy-to-make, creative cocktails with top-shelf tequila", the same 84%, not coincidentally, who were likely given repeated assurances that a free case of the stuff would arrive at their doors if they agreed to such a sentiment.

Here is a handy '5 Tips on How Not to Be a Jackass' when consuming it, from our friends at www.drinkplanner.com

To mark this festive occasion, and to honor Patrick Swayze's heroic battle with pancreatic cancer, we thought we'd share our Top 10 Coolest Bartenders of All Time for those who missed it the first time around.

Salut!
The Shark Guys

[Editor's Note: Apparently Friday is 'National Scotch Day' but since our Google fingers are tired, we'll leave it to you to track down its similarly suspect press release origin]

Drunk-Dialing : The Light Comic Opera

We’ve blogged on occasion about the infamous drink and dial – that decision to call someone in the middle of the night and share with them the penetrating truths that have come to you after half a bottle of Jack Daniels and three keg stands. Who doesn’t enjoy getting a call at 3am from someone who is ready either to take you for an unwanted drunken stumble down nostalgia lane, or to tell you that they just figured out what went wrong in your relationship and, surprise, surprise, the blame does not lie with the lush making the call.

In our tome of drunken exploits, “The Man Who Scared a Shark To Death: And Other True Tales of Drunken Debauchery,” we chronicle the tale of quite possibly the oldest immature drunk dialer, a 52-year-old Danish man who was playing with his toy ships in the bath when he decided to phone the local sea rescue unit and inform them that one of his ships was in danger of capsizing. They actually sent rescue boats to look for the sinking ship... He had to pay a hefty fine for the lark. We also mention in the book Virgin Mobile Australia’s plan to combat drink dialing by allowing their users to ban all incoming calls from suspect drink-dialers between the hours of 12am-6pm. It’s a good plan.

As much as we’ve written about the drink-and-dial, and as many such calls as we’ve made, we have yet to put the phenomenon to a tune. (Editor’s Note: We are, however, working on a Jerky Boys-like album of crank calls in which we phone up bars that don’t serve food and get increasingly testy with them when they refuse to take our lunch orders. “Alright, ya goof, ya gotta pen? Ok, one pastrami on rye… What? What do you mean you don’t got food?” Recording companies interested in distributing this for us should email either of the authors directly via the contacts page.)

Ed Harcourt, an up-and-coming singer/songwriter (he’s the guy in the photo for those who thought he might be a drunk-dialer we're having trouble with), has found a novel way to get a persistent drunk-dialer off his back. Rather than subscribe to a service like the one mentioned above, he’s recorded, “You Only Call Me When You’re Drunk” (listen to full song here), which should not be confused with the Pet Shop Boys prequel to this song -- before the relationship completely deteriorated -- “You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You’re Drunk,” (or their ode to that uncle who's a little too hands-on for comfort during the holidays, “Your Funny Uncle”).

Harcourt’s been getting some calls from a “deplorable old friend, somewhere in the East end,” and the song is his gentle request for his buddy to screw off and let him get a good night’s sleep because he has work in the morning and his buddy may or may not live in the park. One wonders if Harcourt hasn’t placed a few of these wee-small-hours-of-the-morning calls himself; he writes like someone who knows the challenges: "I guess you have me on speed-dial/for your eyesight is too blurred, to text me any words.”

The song starts off slow and in the kind of mood you'd be in if you picked up the phone while still half-asleep and confused as to who the hell could be calling at such a godforsaken hour, then it picks up in pitch and ferocity and takes on a more operatic quality. This is one call too many and it's time he sobers his buddy up with some home truths. They used to be close friends, cursing the local rich boys and committing acts of costly, albeit righteous, vandalism -- "As dreamers we'd scream all the songs/we'd known all our lives off the roofs of the city bankers/ break in the windows, burn all the documents/Rich daddy's boys!" -- now though his buddy has become an energy drain, a nuisance who is more trouble than the nostalgia is worth. Like many drunk-dialers he's gripped by the wanderlust and when the bars are closed, he picks up the phone to continue the adventure, "You only call me when you're drunk/Cursing down the phone, you can't stand being alone."

But for the guy who has yet to sever all connections to civilized society, it's time to hang up. He tells him, "Give all your sadness a last embrace/Turn up sober at my place, we'll talk about it face to face." And that's one call the drunken friend is unlikely to make.

Loud Music in Bars Linked to Increased Drinking: Health Files from the Drawer Marked 'Obvious'

The presence of a bunch of clipboard wielding scientists blocking access to the bar, is apparently not enough to dissuade people from drinking, according to a new study in which it was determined after much scrutiny of the data (and noting that the sky above is a shade of blue) that people tend to drink more where the music is louder.

Over the course of three weekends French researchers were able to marry work and pleasure by frittering away grant money on what is patently obvious to anyone who's ever sidled up to a bar and thought to themselves, 'you know what? this place would be a hell of a lot more fun if there was a live band, or at the very least, a stereo'.

According to researchers at the University of Southern Brittany, 'environmental music played in a bar is associated with an increase in drinking', and while we're not sure what this means exactly, it might refer to Al Gore sitting in with the house band playing a carbon negative stand up bass.

Now, we've done comparable research ourselves, but had to fund it out of pocket and call it a tab when we came up with our Top 10 Bar Songs of All Time, a list which we highly recommend. And if you're ever in a bar where a bunch of eggheads are trying to spoil your good time, buy 'em a round and crank these to oblivion.

Shark-Bite DVD Review: Iron Man -- Dean Martin meets the Transformers

The appeal of comic books is, of course, in the escape they offer their readers. You might be some nerd who spends the first period of every high school day shouting for your freedom from the locker that bullies stuffed you in, but hey, Peter Parker was a dweeb too before a spider bit him and the resulting mutant powers from that incident gave him the ability to climb walls and swing pretty girls from building to building. You may be some brooding, miserable slob who’s lived in your mother’s basement for longer than society would deem seemly, but Bruce Wayne spends a lot of time in his basement and could also stand some cheering up, and look at all the cool stuff he does as Batman. Many comics offer their reader heroes that are troubled in some way that a teen can relate to -- the socially useless who become unbelievably heroic via their alter egos.

“Iron Man” is a different kind of comic book hero, and is played by Robert Downey Jr. a different kind of actor from the type we’d expect to see fronting a blockbuster. We know from the moment the film opens with Downey, as Tony Stark, motoring down an Afghan highway in a Humvee, with a highball in his hand and the AC/DC blasting that we’re in for a movie that is miles apart from a tale of a nerd getting revenge on that muscle freak who kicked his sand in his face on the beach. We’re in for a rock and roll good time, and that is certainly what the film delivers.

For those unfamiliar with the “Iron Man” story, the central character is Tony Stark, a weapons manufacturer and one hell of a fun guy. He is labeled a “Merchant of Death”, but he seems to be far more of a charmer than Viktor Bout, ending up, as he does, in bed with the female reporter who gives him the moniker shortly after she does so.

He’s more or less casual about his war profiteering, is a genius and seems to enjoy the tech side of blowing stuff up, and, perhaps most importantly, being rich enough to have his own private plane complete with stewardesses who know where the sake is kept and double as pole-dancers once it’s been served.

Stark takes that plane to Afghanistan where he shows American generals Stark Industries’ latest piece of scorched-earth war machinery the “Jericho” missile. Shortly after firing one off into the – hopefully unoccupied – mountains, Stark is on his way back to the army base when his convoy is ambushed and he is shot. He survives, but the tribe that captured him wants him to construct a “Jericho” for their nefarious purposes.

Stark has different plans, and he and his cellmate Yinsen put together the first crude Iron Man suit. Sleeker and benefiting from better paint jobs though the latter suits might be, the spectacle of the first is hard to top: Iron Man makes his screen debut all clanking metal amid heavy guitars and proceeds to flambé every bad guy in the camp.

Once out of Afghanistan, Stark has a change of heart about the evil weapons business. He wants to make love err… Well he does not want to make war. This launches Jeff Bridges, who plays Tony’s right-hand man at Stark Industries the wonderfully named Obadiah Stane, in from the background.

Given the press surrounding this film, it will probably not be revealing too much to say that Bridges plays the heavy in this one, and he plays it well, a swaggering, cigar-chomping industrialist who’d strap his own grandma to a warhead if it meant some more filthy lucre for the pile.

The villains in this type of movie, most of the time, end up being far more interesting than the heroes they torment; who would you rather hang around with for an evening’s drinks (provided your death was not on the menu) – lunatic billionaire Lex Luthor or Clark Kent? What makes “Iron Man” so much fun is that both hero and villain are equally entertaining and played by great actors who are willing to jump into their scenes with enthusiasm, as if they want to do more than just offset the scenes where things get smashed. Likewise, Gwyneth Paltrow, playing a character whose name is the only clear sign of the comic book’s 60s origins, “Pepper Potts”, brings a human touch to a role that could have been pure camp.

We’re in for a long summer of superheroes, and for some inexplicable reason it’s been decided that another “Incredible Hulk” movie is necessary (One more time that we’ll get to here those immortal words, “HULK!?! HULK, HIM SMASH! Editor's Note: For an excellent review of The Incredible Hulk, click here) and there’s the better film prospect of another in Christopher Nolan’s Batman series. But I doubt we’re in for another like this one. There are genre standards in this one – the trial and error scenes, for example, in which new powers get tested, causing significant structural damage to buildings, and, it would appear in this case, killing without remark passersby via traffic incidents – but what we’re left with is unique among the genre: a film for the guys in high school who missed first period not because of bullies, but because they were too hungover from partying the night before.

Noel. Bangkok

Click here for more superhero fun.

Beer Couture: Top 10 Suds Fashion Duds

For those whose "Sunday Best" refers to what's worn at the Piggly Wiggly cashing in those cheesy nacho Hamburger Helper coupons, here are a few beer-themed sartorial suggestions you can run by the missus as she lights a Vantage Ultra Light off the propane barbecue and kicks back in a hammock.

Now, we've chronicled all manner of drunken exploit in our book, The Man Who Scared a Shark to Death and Other True Tales of Drunken Debauchery, from leaping into a stark and stingray-filled aquarium drunk on a bet (the title story) to trying to beat a DUI rap by handing the cops ID belonging to a guy with a glass eye and hoping they wouldn't notice. Our guess is, the type of person who'd get up to such hijinks would undoubtedly have a drawer filled with garments like the ones we're showcasing here that the wife would most certainly try and shrink in the wash or sneak off to a church clothing drive when her man is out of town.

For a night on the town blinding a biker with your pool cue's butt end, beating the snot out of a motel ice machine, and kicking up dust at the state police, nothing says 'I'm not to be messed with' like a good ol' 1) Classic Beer T or Tank Top. If you're the adventurous type, it comes complete with double entendre seen here.

How do you establish territorial boundaries and also alert people to the fact that your name is Dick, and you drink beer? The answer is to the left, though technically the T would make more sense if it were on the actual beer, like a beer cosy perhaps. If you receive this as a gift and your name is not Dick, it's probably best that you reconsider the nature of your association with the person doing the giving. To the right, we have the kind of T-shirt that is a must for anyone who has ever worked out for longer than one week. What use is having the big guns unless you wear one of these to show them off? There is no point in lifting weights, or even in breaking a sweat, unless you have the kind of clothing that can reveal your efforts to the outside world.
[Fashion Suggestion: Best paired with an undergarment of some kind, though for the girl who is looking for instant popularity this is completely optional.]

2. The Coors Draw String Pant. Elegant, stylish, these are words that are never mentioned in conjunction with this item. A comfy expandable elastic waistband, means you're limited only by how many Hardee's Thickburgers can be forced down your gullet and by how many negative triglycerides readings come back from the lab that you choose to ignore before that tingling sensation in your arm gets too worrisome. [Fashion Suggestion: Pair with a sleeveless Stone Cold Steve Austin 3:16 T, Crocs, a frog doing something sexually suggestive tank top or bare-chested if you have errands to run and drive a jeep]




3. Budweiser Tie. For more official gatherings, like say the christening of the neighbor's riding mower, the burying of a beloved family pet or a sentencing hearing, you can get the gavel banger to at least chuckle at your official Budweiser Tie before sending you straight up the river without a raft. Whether such bold haberdashery really constitutes throwing yourself on the mercy of the court (or just a cheap ploy to beat that Oxycontin possession/indecent exposure rap) is up to legal interpretation.








4. King of Beers One-piece/Corona Bikini Top. For a more tasteful statement, such as a backyard grill-off where the neighbor's leering nephews are present, here's a two-piece, left. For wrestling in wet lettuce/impromptu Playboy Mansion badminton, to the right is a sassier version once those same kids turn 17. [Corrupting a minor charges vary according to state]




5. The 'Got Beer?' Combination Belt/Bottle Opener.
Who says style can't be functional? Give your back molars a rest as this versatile product will pop open bottles, hold up your pants, and if a rumble breaks out, you're an arm and a 38 waist's length away from being able to reach out and flog someone.





6. The Beer Belly Pouch Best accessorized with a Corona Draw String Pant if you're asymptomatic after that gastric bypass. With specs including an 80 ounce capacity and able to accommodate up to a 40-inch waistline, this product will fit at least one third of the target demographic. For a similar product we've reviewed here, click [Fashion Suggestion: For special occasions like staff meetings, sales presentations, wear a collared buttoned shirt over top, feed the drinking tube through the sleeve and surreptitiously sip from the wrist. This only applies if you're not the one conducting either meeting, unless you want to call a five minute recess to take a few swigs in the office's handicapped bathroom]


7. Miller Lite Thong Floss that 'junk in your trunk' and show your significant other that your tastes in the boudoir correspond to the case of junk you just stashed in the trunk.







8. Budweiser Beer Hat. Protect yourself from UV radiation, skin damage, good taste and the company of womenfolk with this bona fide Budweiser Beer Hat. Also, prevent sustaining any further head injury of the type that would result in the decision to sport this anywhere beyond the backyard (where it should only be donned if there is a sufficiently tall hedge) or the local laughing academy, where unfortunately, all such beverages would immediately be confiscated.




9. St Paddy's Socks Celebrate St Patrick's Day all year round with St Paddy's Day Commemorative Socks. I don't know about you, but we feel green just looking at them.










10. Pints of Beer Cuff Links. For your first time wearing cuff links, take your cue from the tone of the event you're to attend and what others will be wearing. If those people are completely and wholly unreliable, create a stir with your very own Pints of Beer Cuff Links [Fashion Suggestion: Wow the VIP section of your local Tough Man Contest with these beauties]

Sleeping it off in Seattle: Drunk Attacks Cafe Manager with Fireworks and Headbutt

Having not ever set foot in the place, we've familiarized ourselves with Seattle through Conan O'Brien, who had two guys in tower costumes, one representing the Space Needle and the other the larger CN Tower (both since dwarfed by a monolith in Dubai, leaving our fair cities feeling hopelessly inadequate) duke it out.

We've also learned quite a bit from the sitcom Frasier and though it was filmed in its entirety at a Paramount Studios sound stage, we feel that it's given us a pretty good idea as to what the city is all about. Besides, there was one episode, season 5 we believe, that was filmed there and though we didn't see it, it was probably a solid one.

[Editor's aside: It's a little known fact that Shelly Long did not care much for the Frasier character, and initially wanted him ousted from the show---Cheers that is, she wasn't holding a long-term grudge against him on his own show as her career took a nosedive from Space Needle-like heights]

Seattle, to the best of our knowledge is a lovely place. So lovely, in fact, that we've even agreed to promote our book The Man Who Scared a Shark to Death and Other True Tales of Drunken Debauchery on one of their radio stations, marking our very first public appearance in the US of A!

[Editor's second aside: Special thanks to the posterior-kicking KISW, 99.9 FM, the very same station that, according to some random drunk warbling Livin' on Tulsa Time in a local karaoke bar, helped launch Nirvana and since we have no way whatsoever to confirm whether this is true, have to take him at his word]

Seattle, fortuitously, has come across our radar this week, as one of our parade of ornery, staggering pisstanks calls the Emerald City home.

According to the Seattle PI, which sounds like a failed Magnum PI spin-off without the glamorous Italian automobiles, reports that a man was refused entry to Cafe Amore recently. Not getting any 'love' at this cafe 'when the world seemed to shine like he'd had too much wine' the guy made several failed attempts to sneak by.

When these attempts failed miserably, the guy returned with a Roman candle [Editor's third and final aside: Did you hear about the happy Roman? He was glad he ate her] and struggled with the manager, who tried to wrest the firework from his hand, during which point the drunk head-butted him.

Next time make a reservation, and if the calamari are rubbery, THEN resort to head-butting.

See you soon Pacific Northwest!!!

Tune into KISW Thursday, July 17th at 4:30 PT, 7:30 EST. [Those left coasters are so laid back, they're 3 hours behind us]

25 Horrible Bands Named after Places: Music from Hell and Elsewhere

Much like hypertension or obesity are predictors for cardiovascular disease, geography is a measure for determining whether a band's music will make you want to cover your ears.

Before you start penning a terse letter to your city councilor, we're not referring specifically to where a band might be from, but one whose name is geographic in origin.

Now, there is no question, there are a handful of talented place-derived bands in genres other than rock/pop. These include punk bands UK Subs, New