November 28, 2007
From stand-up comedian Keith Alberstadt:
Fantasy Football is like Dungeons and Dragons for the guys who used to make fun of people who played Dungeons and Dragons.
I take part in neither. As I’ve said to the many people who suggested I join either: “I’m a geek. But I’m not that kind of geek.”
August 7, 2007
Guinness is an interesting dog… He managed to swallow a bee yesterday, ended up with my hysteric pregnant wife taking him to the vet, as he’s throwing up and apparently having trouble breathing. The vet gave him a couple injections in case he was having a reaction to the bee, and eventually he came home.
But I think one of two things occurred. Either there was a mixup, and my little Guinness is juicin’ like Barry Bonds, or the bee was radioactive and has turned him into a superdog. Because I don’t know how else he would have picked up this massive bone!
July 11, 2007
James Hetfield, lead-singer of Metallica, learned this week that the UK’s Luton airport was not on his list of places he can roam freely. Sad but true, Hetfield was detained due to his “Taliban-like beard” making officials nervous. One wonders if the rock star felt like an outlaw torn or just another victim of the master of puppets, big brother government. But for his devil’s dance, quickly explaining to the officials that he was a rock star, and not a terrorist, Hetfield may have felt a bit … I don’t know … minus human? Though Hetfield escaped relatively unscathed, nay more a hero of the day, I have no doubt that the memory of his detiainment will remain though nothing else matters.
Let this be a lesson: in the land of wolf and man, the bell tolls for us all … until the-thing-that-should-not-be sleeps, that is.
I’d warn those governments about Hetfield, though… He’s been known to fight fire with fire, and may leave you blackened.
May 7, 2007
I was showing off pictures a few weeks ago of things like red meat and vegetables, elaborate fajitas, and the like. I chose not to show any pictures of tonight, because it’s little more than a broken man.
With the move coming up, I’ve been packing like a madman. I stopped cooking a few days ago, because I packed up the cookware. I’ve thrown away the various additives that don’t transport well and are cheap (vinegar, flour, etc). And tonight for dinner I polished off the leftover roast beef sub I bought for lunch.
Hungry in the evening, I started looking around in the freezer… “Hmm”, I thought, “there’s some mint chocolate chip ice cream in here! That’ll hit the spot!”
So I pulled it out of the freezer and opened the cupboard. “Ahh hell, I packed up the bowls…” Then I opened the drawers. “Ahh shit, I packed the silverware too!”
So it was off to improvise. I looked around and I saw a slightly non-conventional spoon. It was marked with a stamp that said “1 tablespoon” and was on a keyring with other, similar, spoons. And I didn’t have a bowl, but I still had the tub the ice cream was sitting in.
So I sat down with a 1 tbsp measuring spoon and a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream to end the evening… Gluttony, thy name is Brad.
April 10, 2007
I saw this…
Often seen as mommy’s boys, Italian men are now letting their mothers choose their future wives live on television.
Italy’s state TV aired the first episode of a new reality show this week in which the mothers of five single men have to pick out prospective brides from a selection of candidates.
Must.Avoid.The.Joke…. Ah, screw it.
Why do Italian men grow moustaches? (answer below the fold)
It reminds them of their mothers.
April 3, 2007
I blame the money supply.
Ever since my wife went out of town, my grocery bills seem to have doubled. She would come home every Saturday talking about what she’d bought for the week… “I’ve only spent $39, and I’ve got us food for a week!”
Well, now that she is out of town, I can’t seem to spend less than $75 for the week. And I’m only feeding myself! And I didn’t even factor in the cost of beer!
Now, I could suggest that maybe it’s due to the fact that I’m buying little more than large quantities of meat and fresh vegetables. And that since I haven’t figured out portion control, I’m pretty much eating enough food for three (oddly, I’m not gaining weight?)… After all, one night last week I had a little over a pound of salmon ($15) and a little over a pound of asparagus ($3). Tonight I had over a pound of sausage/peppers/redonion, which came in a ready-cut package, and two ears of corn on the cob. Maybe quantity and choice of food have something to do with it? Nah…
It can’t be my eating habits, my lack of shopping acumen, or anything of my own fault. I prefer to blame inflation. Damn you, Ben Bernanke! Damn you to hell!
The Unrepentant Individual linked with No Lambic! Cheezborger Saison!
April 2, 2007
Seriously. Don’t click play.
March 27, 2007
(I don’t normally venture into the world of fiction, but I’ve been mulling this one over for a while. Let me know what you think.)
Lieutenant Hernandez— known more readily as Mr. Hernandez these days— squatted behind an azalea bush outside a rather nice home. Something didnâ€™t seem right. The house was oddly quiet, as if nobody was home, but he could see a flicker of a television screen inside. Relaxing before he made an entrance in the fading light of dusk, he sensed heâ€™d reached his destination. He also sensed something elseâ€¦
Luis Hernandez was on the edge in his youth. He was one of those â€˜tweeners, a kid who was bright enough to do whatever he chose in life, but had a heart for adventure that always seemed to get him into trouble. He never seemed to do well in school, a fact that befuddled his teachers, who saw him accomplish great things when he put his mind to it, but never seemed to apply himself. Only one of his teachers really got him motivated, his history teacher, Mr. Thompson.
Everyone hated Thompson. He was a gruff, demanding man, who was quick to tell you when you were wrong, and wasnâ€™t quick to congratulate you when you were right. He was a fair teacher, willing to improve your grade if you could coherently argue your wrong answer, but if he argued back and you faltered, you were out of luck. Thompson was known for kids transferring out of his class early in a semester. He had a knack for making the weak-willed students cry. Only a few people could possibly excel in a class like his; it took an iron will, a relentless work ethic, and an ability to think on your feet that few possessed. Most of Luisâ€™ other teachers thought he would get skewered by Thompson, instead Luis was his favorite student.
It was Thompson who convinced Luis to join the service. In the barrio where Luis grew up, Thompson knew heâ€™d end up turning to gangs, and probably sell drugs. Of course, it wasnâ€™t Luisâ€™ safety that Thompson was worried about, as he knew Luis had a knack for leadership and guile that would keep him safe. But he knew that Luis wanted more, and made sure that he joined the Marines right out of school, in 1979.
It was a culture shock, of course. Luis had been able to scrape by doing what he wanted when he wanted, and those first few days of boot camp saw him doing push-ups until he thought his arms would give out. Luis made the mistake early of talking back to his drill sergeant, and that meant that Luis was made an example of. Quickly he got to know the bad side of his superiors, but his brash behavior made him some quick friends among his unit. It only took two weeks, though. Once he realized he didnâ€™t have a choice, he sunk back under the radar and moved his way through the rest of basic without much incident.
He thought he was under the radar, of course. Ever since the early days, his sergeant had pegged him as a leader. He would take some molding, of course, but he had a way with his fellow soldiers that the sergeant had seen before. He was going to go places.
Luis was always at the head of the line for promotions. After he had learned the discipline of the Marines, and accepted that he wasnâ€™t getting out of it, he started to excel. He quickly saw that if he could get enough time to get himself a college degree, heâ€™d be a shoo-in for OCS. When his superiors saw him in action in Grenada, they decided to support his ambitions. They thought he was likely to stick around the Corps for a while, so he was selected for MECEP, the program which would allow him to complete a degree and become an officer. He— greatly surprising himself— took extra classes to complete his Bachelors Degree in Political Science in only three years, finishing in May 1987.
He had barely gotten the ink dry on his commission when he saw action in Panama, but he proved himself worthy. The ability to speak Spanish from his childhood came in handy, and he was a major asset on the ground. After Grenada, he saw some more action in the First Gulf War, where he was promoted from 2nd Lieutenant to 1st Lieutenant. But then the military changed. He wanted to stay in, but the military started cutting their headcount, and in early 2004, Luis Hernandez found himself out of a job.
He tried the corporate world for a while, and it seemed like he was back in high school. He didnâ€™t have any high aspirations, didnâ€™t really care about what he was doing, and although he did enough to get by, never really excelled. Of course, going from combat to corporate will take the wind out of anyoneâ€™s sails. He spent three years working in an office, before he decided he needed out.
He went into business for himself. Did some security consulting, some personal protection jobs, but eventually started getting into corporate espionage. He soon realized that he was doing something he loved, he was great at it, and he was making more money than heâ€™d ever imagined. If only that old man Thompson could see him now!
He got a reputation as a man who would deliver the goods when asked. Nobody really questioned his methods, only that he could deliver. Itâ€™s not that his methods were unethical, per se, but a man in Luisâ€™ position quickly learns that traditional ethics donâ€™t apply, and had constructed his own moral code. It got him into trouble a few times, and he had to turn down or cancel a few jobs mid-stream that he found objectionable, but he was more than solid enough otherwise to ensure repeat business.
His resume grew. Intel, Microsoft, Goldman Sachs, Pfizer. Occasionally some off-the-books government work. He managed to find what he needed to find. When rumors surfaced of production problems at overseas facilities, he was there. When the financial guys wanted to make sure the companies they gave â€œBuyâ€ recommendations to werenâ€™t cooking the books, he was there. When the drug companies wanted evidence to file patent infringement lawsuits, they sent Luis.
This was why he found it very odd when he received a call in 2003 from Hanes. After all, thereâ€™s not a lot of corporate espionage in the underwear world. It was even more bizarre when they scheduled to meet him at corporate HQ. Why would they want someone who so often acted in anonymity to pull into their parking lot and sign in with a receptionist?
He was intrigued, but decided to check things out. When he walked into a boardroom full of bigwigs, complete with a projector set up and â€œWelcome, Luis!â€ as the first slide of a Powerpoint presentation, he started to worry someone had set him up. At the very least, it was clear that these people had no understanding of operational security. IF they wanted him to engage in corporate espionage, it would have been insane to meet him under these circumstances. Nothing, of course, could have been further from the truth. The rest of the meeting set into action a chain of events that he never could have expected.
â€œLuis,â€ they asked him, â€œhave you ever lost a sock?â€ Of course he had, Luis responded.
â€œDid you ever joke that maybe those socks were stolen?â€ Again, Luis responded in the affirmative, as he had often joked with his family that some monster came in late at night to steal the missing socks.
The bigwigs from Hanes continued to tell a tale that Luis thought could only be a joke. Stories abounded of young children seeing an â€œanimalâ€ scurrying off in the night in a blur with their socks. Babies with bite marks all over their feet when the beast would grow bold enough to remove their socks while they were wearing them. Only a few stories came from adults, as the beast was known for avoiding adults, but those few were from sources credible enough to be trusted. Stories existed from every continent of sightings, but nothing conclusive enough to locate the beast.
It wasnâ€™t a joke after all, and they were going to pay him enough money to buy the island of Grenada to capture that beast! Even if he couldnâ€™t manage to lure it out and trap it, theyâ€™d pay dearly for pictures to prove it exists.
Luis left the meeting in a daze, with a check in his pocket and a couple of leads to get him started. Could this beast really exist? What sort of creature would hoard socks? Luis still didnâ€™t quite believe it, but he had negotiated a contract lucrative enough that even if he never found this mythical creature, he would still be well-paid for the search. Given that he was starting to tire of the monotony of corporate espionage, something new might be a welcome change.
His first leads took him down to South America, where his heritage and command of the language already made him feel at home. While most of the legends of the Chupacabra involved the destruction of livestock, a few also included the disappearance of socks. These stories emerged from all over South America, in little towns where there seemed no chance that the legends could have spread between these towns by chance.
Mexico, Nicaragua, all the way down to Argentina and Peru. He kept hearing stories, but they all seemed to be dead ends. It became increasingly apparent that the beast he was after wasnâ€™t the Chupacabra. Sightings of both had occurred, and he pieced together the accounts to determine that the beast who stole socks was not the same who destroyed livestock.
Seeing that his search would be fruitless in South America, he moved on. He next flew to the Himalayas, as the stories of the mythical Yeti were also accompanied, like the Chupacabra, with lost socks. Again he found that sightings of the Yeti and the beast who steals socks were certainly not the same.
He was beginning to see a pattern. While often there were reports of a beast who steals socks in the same location as the stories of other mythical creatures, it was clear that the two were not the same. Further research uncovered a startling fact: while the stories of a Yeti or Chupacabra were found only in certain regions, the stories of the sock-stealing monster were global!
Luis realized that he was on the track of something truly groundbreaking. He knew that the capture of this beast would result not only in him being paid unreal sums of money, but that it would include tremendous fame as well.
Luis tracked the stories of the creature for three more years. It seemed that everywhere he went, he would encounter stories of the beast. Occasionally he would also encounter some who had seen the beast. It was a small, dark creature, four-legged. It moved quickly but with stealth. But the most universal report was the creatureâ€™s eyes. They glowed red like nothing people had ever seen. It was consistent with nearly every sighting. The eyes were always remembered, always brought up, even when the other details didnâ€™t entirely match. Luis started to understand that he wasnâ€™t trailing a mythical beast, but something that must be real.
In late 2006, Luis decided to try a different approach. He knew he was getting close to the nature of the myth, but locating the beast was another matter entirely. He decided to scour the worldwide news articles for mentions of socks. It sounded like a long shot, but he was getting desperate, and Hanes was getting mighty tired of paying down his expense account.
What he found was intriguing. Judging from news stories, it was clear that there were reports worldwide of piles of socks being found all over the world, but with no explanation. Luis surmised that this must mean only one thing: when the beast is frightened, it tends to save itself rather than the socks. Nobody had ever delved into these reports, though. Occasionally it was nothing more than a local quirk that some hiker had found. On some occasions there were searches to see if they were socks from people who might have met an ill fate. But nobody had ever asked why these socks had shown up when the trails ran cold. Furthermore, nobody had ever analyzed these stories to see where they were most common.
It was here that Luis made his breakthrough. The stories of found socks were worldwide, but they werenâ€™t equally distributed. The stories were most prevalent in America, and in the American Southeast. Luis knew where to focus his search!
It was that chain of events that placed Luis behind an azalea bush in the Atlanta suburbs. With the sun going down, he picked the lock and entered the house.
Greeted by a little barking dog, he realized he must be in the wrong place. After all, this beast wouldnâ€™t allow a little yapping creature like this to live here, would it? He must be in the wrong house.
He followed the dog around a corner— and stopped short. The sight before him, of a mound of socks up to the ceiling, left him breathless. He WAS in the right place! But where was the beast? Nothing was here but a small dog, and that dog most certainly didnâ€™t have glowing red eyes.
The dog, as if it were supposed to be there guarding socks, sat down on a few. Luis decided to get a photo. Heâ€™d figure out this beast yet, but it must be gone finding more socks at the moment, so he was sure he had a few minutes to spare.
As he crouched next to the floor to get a photo, he heard the dog start to growl. Such a guttural growl from such a small dog, he had never heard before.
He aimed his camera, and as he was about to press the button, he realized his mistake. The dog’s eyes were glowing red like candles!
When the authorities arrived two days later, they didnâ€™t find a dog, nor did they find any socks. They found Luisâ€™ body in a pool of blood, his jugular severed by a bite from an unknown creature. His shoes were in tatters, and his feet— bare.
But they did find one other thing at the scene: his camera.
The Unrepentant Individual linked with Book Review — Mean Martin Manning, by Scott Stein
March 24, 2007
An interesting piece of satire by the Scott Stein, about the pill that makes you taller. Well, not really, the pill that makes you THINK you’re taller.
The pill didnâ€™t take immediate effect. For about 10 minutes you felt nothing. Then you were taller. That is, you believed you were. The drug convinced its user, whatever his height, that he was three inches taller. It was a new technology, and its power was limited, if perfect in its simplicity and specificity. Three inches was all it added. Gargantuanx could not alter the physical world–boxes of pasta on supermarket shelves which were out of reach before taking the pill did not get any closer after a dose. But under its influence, one was certain that the shelf of pasta was three inches higher than it had been, so the illusion that one was three inches taller was intact.
Heading down the proverbial rabbit hole [which seems an apt analogy when "one pill makes you larger"], the questions comes up: should Gargantuanx be prohibited? Thus, the name of the piece, Garghibition.
Check it out. If you have the same sort of bizarre sense of humor as I do– and you probably wouldn’t be here if you didn’t– you’ll like it.
January 30, 2007
Just something I noticed today…
What’s wrong with this commercial?
Answer below the fold:
Who the hell buys salmon filets on eBay?!
January 11, 2007
In a surprising turn, new legislation in Georgia has made it illegal to sell meat on Fridays during Lent. While it has been seen as an unchangeable practice for years to ban Sunday sales of alcohol, Georgia has now become the first state to expand the practice to non-alcohol goods.
The move is a surprise to most people, both in Georgia and around the country. No other states have suggested plans to follow suit, but analysts expect a ripple throughout the South as other evangelical-dominated states consider similar legislation.
The justification for the law, by the legislators, seems unclear. Most have taken a silent approach when asked, but it is largely thought that a small minority of Christians convinced Georgia’s legislators that it was their role to enforce dietary rules of religious observance. Pastor Bobby Smith, of the New Life Church of Atlanta, did suggest that the rules were not intended to bind people to religious observance, but purely as a restriction of commerce:
“I’m not saying that people can’t eat meat on Fridays during Lent,” Smith said, “I just think that we as a society should not be encouraging it. If they want to buy their meat on Thursday, and eat it on Friday, that’s just fine. This isn’t an infringement on anyone’s rights. After all, we’re not making it illegal every day during Lent, just on Fridays. But America was founded on Christian ideals, and I think we should respect the Lord’s wishes on our observance of his laws.”
The new law has drawn ire from many sides. The ACLU issued a joint statement with the American Atheists, threatening lawsuits based on the separation of church and state. Most alcohol-related blue laws have survived such challenges based on the 21st Amendment, but it’s unclear whether the measure will have other legal cover. One Georgia legislator, though, speaking on condition of anonymity, suggested that the court may be the only option to fight this law:
“We’ve learned from the unpopularity of blue laws that very few people are in favor of the law. However, it’s not enough of an imposition that they take the energy to fight the law. The supporters, however, are rabid, and will withhold their vote, as a group, from any politician who endorses the end of blue laws.”
Legal fights are expected to take years. In the meantime, however, Georgia shoppers should hope they remember to buy their meat on Thursday.
Yes, in case you’re wondering, I’ve made all this up.
Sadly, this appears to be the entire justification for the continuation of blue laws. Many politicians fear the end of these laws simply because they’re afraid to upset a core group of rabid constituents. It doesn’t matter that the laws are hypocritical (as in legalizing the sale of “immoral” alcohol but restricting it only one day of the week, unless you’re in a restaurant, in which case it’s okay). Nor does it matter that it’s an infringement upon the rights of people to engage in commerce. It doesn’t even matter that most people don’t support the laws. Nobody in the legislature has the courage to stand up and strike them down.
December 7, 2006
I was talking with a buddy of mine from Chicago last night, nicknamed Sober John (only half of the name is accurate), and he pointed me to a little online story.
It’s a quick read, but if you actually enjoy reading what I write, you’ll probably enjoy this too.
November 30, 2006
Immediately following Thanksgiving, you see about three or four radio stations in every major market switch over to an all-Christmas, all-the-time format. And I’m damn sick of it. But only this year have I really asked why. First, I thought it might be the standard depression of the season, as the college football regular season has ended and we’ve got a good 4 weeks before any meaningful bowl games start. But there’s more than that.
I can sum it up in one word. Encomium. Obviously, that requires a little explanation. Encomium is a CD that came out a few years ago, a tribute to Led Zeppelin. It contained covers of Led Zeppelin tunes by a number of hit bands. And some of them were pretty good, such as Stone Temple Pilots’ cover of Dancing Days. They kept much of the spirit and feel of the song, while putting a little of their own twist on it. But others weren’t so great. There are just as many hits as misses when you try to put your own spin on a great.
And that right there is what Christmas music is. Every crooner, from the greats, to the has-beens, and the never-were’s have made a Christmas album. I heard a cover of “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch” on the radio today by Sixpence None the Richer. For every smooth, well-produced tune with a voice like Harry Connick Jr powering the lyrics, there are multiple failures. It’s the same tune sung by the Chipmunks. It might be some nobody who has put a mediocre vocal on top of some bad 80’s synthesizer melody and beats. Or it’s a “diva”, who is turning what should be a single note into a trembling, wavering journey through six different octaves. Heck, Weird Al Yankovic can make one hell of a polka, but I really never thought “O Tannenbaum” needed an accordion solo!
There’s a lot of great music, and a lot of crappy music in the world. Over time, most of the crappy music finds the dust bin of history. You don’t hear many radio stations playing a Rollins Band cover of Zeppelin these days. But bad Christmas music is eternal. I guess when you have to fill 24 hours a day, seven days a week, on multiple radio stations, you don’t want to only play the good stuff. But the bad stuff is enough to ruin it for me. You can keep your Chipmunks and your divas, I’ll tune in to the channels playing normal music.
UPDATE: I was talking to a customer at work today, and he put me on hold. I was treated to hold music consisting of Christmas music performed by barking dogs. I CAN’T ESCAPE IT!!!
Below The Beltway linked with What He Said
June 13, 2006
All taken from this thread at beeradvocate.com:
An oil tycoon from Texas is vacationing in Ireland. He stops by the local and puts a wager up to the crowd. He tells them he’ll pay $10,000 to anyone who can drink 10 pints in two minutes. One man is so offended he leaves the bar.
After a few minutes the Texan asks if no one is man enough to take the take and that he’d heard Irish men could drink. A minute later, the man who left walks back into the bar gets the barkeep to line up ten pints and takes them in about a minute and a half. The Texan owes up to the bet and congratulates the Irishman. He says to the man “That was quite impressive but I have to ask; Where’d you go when you left?”
The Irishman replied “I went to the pub down the road. I had to make sure I could do it first.”
A man walks into a bar and orders a draft and sits down. After a couple sips a monkey runs up and quickly dips his balls in the man’s beer. The man is furious and can’t believe what just happened. “Bartender!”, the man said “That monkey just dipped his balls in my beer, I can’t drink this, give me another one.”
The bartender serves him another, but after a moment the monkey appears again and before the man could stop him he dips his balls in the beer again. “That damn monkey just did it again, I can’t drink this!”, he said. “Bartender, give me another beer please.”
The bartender poured the man a third pint and this time the man was determined not to let that monkey dip his balls in it. He watched the beer closely, and the monkey was not in sight, so he started chatting with a woman across the bar. As soon as he stopped paying attention the monkey snuck up like lightning, and quickly dipped his balls in the beer again.
“I’ve had enough of this!”, the man yelled, “All my beers have been ruined.” “Is that your monkey bartender?” “No”, he replied, “That monkey belongs to the piano player over there”
The man gets up from his barstool and approaches the piano player and taps him on the back. “Excuse me sir, do you know your monkey is dipping his balls in my beer?” “No I sure don’t.” replied the piano player. “But, if you hum a few notes I can try to fake it.”
A man was walking down the street when he was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless man who asked him for a couple of dollars for dinner.
The man took out his wallet, extracted ten dollars and asked, “If I give you this money, will you buy some beer with it instead of dinner?”
“No, I had to stop drinking beer years ago,” the homeless man replied.
“Will you use it to go fishing instead of buying food?” the man asked.
“No, I don’t waste time fishing,” the homeless man said. “I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive.”
“Will you spend this on greens fees at a golf course instead of food?” the man asked.
“Are you NUTS!” replied the homeless man. “I haven’t played golf in 20 years!”
“Will you spend the money on a woman in the red light district instead of food?” the man asked.
“What disease would I get for ten lousy bucks?” exclaimed the homeless man.
“Well,” said the man, “I’m not going to give you the money. Instead, I’m going to take you home for a terrific dinner cooked by my wife.”
The homeless man was astounded. “Won’t your wife be furious with you for doing that? I know I’m dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting.”
The man replied, “That’s okay. It’s important for her to see what a man looks like after he has given up beer, fishing, golf, and sex.”
A young Irishman walked into the local pub, took a seat at the bar and orders 3 beers. After an hour or so, the bartender asked the man, “Excuse Sir, I noticed that you’ve been here for a while and ordered 3 beers when you sat down. Wouldn’t it have made sense to order your beer one at a time so that they don’t go flat?”
He said, “Well Sir you see, my 2 brothers are living in other countries and we don’t get the chance to see each other very much. So, we designated this date and time each year to go to the nearest pub, order 1 beer for each brother and drink them in rememberance of each other.”
After several years of this ritual, the man then showed up to the pub and only ordered 2 beers. The bartender got a sinking feeling in his heart thinking that something must have happened to one of the brothers.
Before the Irishman finished his last beer, the bartender said, “I’m sorry for your loss sir…”
The Irishman said,”Pardon me?”
The bartender said, “Well, I noticed that you only ordered 2 beers this year and assumed that one of your brothers had passed away.”
The Irishman said, “Oh no Sir, this is the year that I’ve decided to quit drinking”
A guy is drinking at the bar when he decides it’s time to go home. He tries to stand up from his stool and falls flat on his face. He tries to get up and falls again. He thinks “Damn, I’m drunk…I just need some air.” So he crawls outside and tries to get up, but falls again. He knows he needs to get home so his wife won’t know he’s been out drinking late, so he crawls himself all the way home, drags himself up the stairs into bed next to his wife, and passes out.
His wife wakes up the next morning, looks at him and says “You’ve been drinking.”
He tries to act innocent. “No I haven’t. What makes you think that?”
“You left your wheelchair at the bar again!”
A guy walks into a bar with his dog, orders an Abita beer, and asks if the Saints game is on.
“Wait a minute, buddy,” the bartender says. “There’s no dogs allowed in here.”
“But you don’t understand,” the man says. “My dog and I are total Saints fans! We’ve been watching them play for 20 years now! I’m afraid this might be old Spot’s last game with me, and the danged TV at the house just died!”
The bartender takes pity on the man and allows him to keep the dog so long as there’s no funny business.
A few minutes into the game, the Saints score a first down. The dog starts going wild, doing backflips, buying random patrons beers, and just going nuts.
“Wow,” the bardtender comments. “You’re not kidding, that dog is a crazy Saints fan. What does he do when the Saints win a game?”
“I dunno,” the guy says. “Like I said, I only had him for 20 years now.”
John and Jessica were on their way home from the bar one night and John got pulled over by the police. The officer told John that he was stopped because his tail light was burned out. John said, “I’m very sorry officer, I didn’t realize it was out, I’ll get it fixed right away.”
Just then Jessica said, “I knew this would happen when I told you two days ago to get that light fixed.”
So the officer asked for John’s license and after looking at it said, “Sir your license has expired.”
And again John apologized and mentioned that he didn’t realize that it had expired and would take care of it first thing in the morning.
Jessica said, “I told you a week ago that the state sent you a letter telling you that your license had expired.”
Well by this time, John is a bit upset with his wife contradicting him in front of the officer, and he said in a rather loud voice, “Jessica, shut your mouth!”
The officer then leaned over toward Jessica and asked. “Does your husband always talk to you like that?”
Jessica replied, “only when he’s drunk.”
After a night of heavy beer drinking, a man wakes up at home with a terrible hangover. He thinks to himself, “Ahh crap, my wife is going to kill me.”
Instead, as he clears his eyes, he sees a glass of ice water and two aspirin on his bedstand, with a note saying “Had to run some errands. Hope you get well soon. Your loving wife, Laura.” The man is clearly confused by this, and expects some sort of trap.
He goes downstairs, vaguely remembering coming home drunk and vomiting everywhere. He steps into the kitchen, where he sees his favourite breakfast already prepared for him. Eggs benedict, sausage, bacon, coffee and orange juice. Beside his breakfast is the morning newspaper, already turned to the sports section. He’s thinking to himself, what is going on? Why is my wife treating me so nice? He sits down on the chair, and slowly starts eating his breakfast, wondering if she poisoned the coffee or put too much salt on the eggs.
Eventually, his son comes down. Confused, he asks his son what happened. “Well,” said the son, “You came home piss drunk, with vomit all over your clothes. It took you 30 minutes to try and get in the door. Once in, you fell down, pissed yourself and vomited all over mom’s shoes. You tried to get upstairs, but kept falling and puking everywhere. Mom woke up, was furious, and dragged you upstairs. She threw you in the bathtub and showered you off. Afterwards, you got up and passed out on the bed.
Seeing that you puked all over your jacket and clothes, she tried to take off your clothes so she can clean them. As she was taking off your pants, you woke up and yelled out “GET OFF ME, YOU SLUT! I’M MARRIED!”
A man walks into the front door of a bar. He is obviously drunk, and staggers up to the bar, seats himself on a stool and, with a belch, asks the bartender for a beer. The bartender politely informs the man that it appears that he has already had plenty to drink, he could not be served additional liquor at this bar, and could a cab be called for him? The drunk is briefly surprised, then softly scoffs, grumbles, climbs down off the bar stool and staggers out the front door.
A few minutes later, the same drunk stumbles in the SIDE door of the bar. He wobbles up to the bar and hollers for a beer. The bartender comes over and, still politely – but more firmly, refuses service to the man due to his inebriation, and again offers to call a cab. The drunk looks at the bartender for a moment angrily, curses, and shows himself out the side door, all the while grumbling and shaking his head.
A few minutes later, the same drunk bursts in through the BACK door of the bar. He plops himself up on a bar stool, gathers his wits and belligerently orders a beer. The bartender comes over and emphatically reminds the man that he is clearly drunk, will be served no drinks, and either a cab or the police will be called immediately.
The surprised drunk looks at the bartender, and in hopeless anguish, cries “MAAAN! How many bars do you work at?
A man is stumbling through the woods totally drunk when he comes upon a preacher baptizing people in the river. He proceeds to walkinto the water and subsequently bumps into the preacher.
The preacher turns around and is almost overcome by the smell of alcohol, whereupon he asks the drunk, “Are you ready to find Jesus?” The drunk answers, “Yes, I am.” So the preacher grabs him and dunks him in the water. He pulls him up and asks the drunk, “Brother, have you found Jesus?”
The drunk replies, “No, I haven’t found Jesus.”
The preacher, shocked at the answer, dunks him into the water again for a little longer this time. He again pulls him out of the water and asks again, “Have you found Jesus, my brother?”
The drunk again answers, “No, I haven’t found Jesus.”
By this time the preacher is at his wits end and dunks the drunk in the water again–but this time holds him down for about 30 seconds– and when he begins kicking his arms and legs, he pulls him up.
The preacher again asks the drunk, “For the love of God, have you found Jesus ?”
The drunk wipes his eyes and catches his breath–and says to the Preacher, “Are you sure this is where he fell in?”
Two men were sitting next to each other at a bar. After a while, one guy looks at the other and says, “I can’t help but think, from listening to you, that
you’re from Ireland”
The other guy responds proudly, “Yes, that I am!”
The first guy says, “So am I! And where about in Ireland might you be from?”
The other guy answers, “I’m from Dublin, I am.”
The first guy responds, “Sure and begora, and so am I! And what street did you live on in Dublin?”
The other guy says, “A lovely little area it was. I lived on McCleary Street in the old central part
The first guy says, “Faith & it’s a small world, so did I! So did I! And to what school would you have been going?”
The other guy answers, “Well now, I went to St. Mary’s of course.”
The first guy gets really excited and says, “And so did I. Tell me, in what year did you graduate?”
The other guy answers, “Well, now, let’s see, I graduated in 1964.”
The first guy exclaims, “The Good Lord must be smiling down upon us! I can hardly believe our good luck at winding up in the same bar tonight. Can you believe it, I graduated from St. Mary’ s in 1964 my own self.”
About this time, Vicky walks into the bar, sits down, and orders a beer.
Brian, the bartender, walks over to Vicky, shaking his head & mutters, “It’s going to be a long night tonight.”
Vicky asks, “Why do you say that, Brian?”
“The Murphy twins are drunk again.”
June 6, 2006
Alright, I can tell from my referrer logs that there are lot more people reading this blog than commenting. So who’s got a good caption for this? If you’ve never commented, say hello and give it a try!
My selection: “I told you to stay away from my wife, you furry bastard!”
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