Mistakes Were Made (Part Three)

DISCLAIMER: DO NOT DO ANYTHING IN THE FOLLOWING STORY. DRINKING IS DANGEROUS AND I’M A PROFESSIONAL IDIOT. JUST READ MY STORIES AND HAVE FUN. DO NOT COPY ME IN ANY WAY. PLEASE.

I told you three was coming hopefully this will be the conclusion because I’m getting bored of this story and want to write something else.

Against my compatriots best wishes and attempts to stop me, I grabbed a Blender Bottle from the cupboard (my preferred drinking vessel), and started with the absinthe. The newly clear liquid rolled over the ice in my cup and lined the bottom portion. It was now time or the Everclear.

I poured, let’s say a generous portion of Everclear in my glass, and filled the empty space with water. Why water? Let me answer that with yet another disclaimer because I swear to God, if anyone is this stupid I will be very disappointed in you: DON NOT DO THIS EVER. PLEASE.

I used to top drinks with water because then I could use water enhancers to mask the flavor of the alcohol without having to add anything too sugary. I thought I was a genius.

My concoction was complete, one third absinthe, one third Everclear, and one third grape flavored water enhancer. It was truly disgusting but I did not care one bit.

We didn’t have a party that night,thank God, so my brothers and I decided to ahve a chill night with some friends, the entire time I was sipping my garbage concoction and slowly losing my grip with reality. This shit is was no joke. I found some gentleman I had never seen before and made him a similar beverage to mine, and he and I sample our liquid trash while having a wonderful conversation. I have vivid memories of this conversation being very fun and poignant, but my friend had been recording us all night and upon review of the film in the morning, the things this man and I had been saying were absolute nonsense. I mean complete gibberish. I though we were being very eloquent and smart and it turns out we were merely making a series of sounds that translated into drunken nonsense. I then passed out while watching Dallas Buyers Club and woke up in a bath tub with one of the worst hangovers of my life. Long story short, don’t drink kids. It’s the worst.

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Mistakes Were Made (Part Two)

DISCLAIMER: DO NOT DO ANYTHING IN THE FOLLOWING STORY. DRINKING IS DANGEROUS AND I’M A PROFESSIONAL IDIOT. JUST READ MY STORIES AND HAVE FUN. DO NOT COPY ME IN ANY WAY. PLEASE.

God damn! I completely forgot about this story. It’s been a crazy couple of weeks. I don’t apologize, because I doubt anyone cared or noticed but here’s the conclusion you filthy bastards.

If memory serves correct, I had just finished trying the absinthe poured over sugar and it was so good. Like liquor candy. After trying the diluted absinthe I began running through the halls like witch on acid demanding everyone come into the kitchen and try this crazy magic drink Adam brought back home. Most people wretched at the idea or outright refused, fuck them, more for me. After about three or four more shots I started getting rowdy. For those of you that have been lucky enough not to be around me when I drink, I am a very destructive alcoholic. I can either be very fun or the Tasmanian Devil from Looney Tunes. Take a guess which one I become in this story.

I was a complete mess; I ripped one of the bathroom doors of the wall and kicked a hole in another one. Doors did not have a very long lifespan in our house. I don’t want to sound like Hercules, because there are an infinite number of people in this world that can kick my ass (men and women alike) these were cheap ass doors that were made with sub-par materials.

“Let’s mix them together!” I shouted now having returned to the kitchen.

“What?!” Ken and Adam said almost in unison.

“Together, the Everclear and absinthe,” I stated once more. They were both speechless and merely exchanged a series or confused and worried glances trying to figure if A) I was being serious, and B) what the fuck should they say. Keep in mind, I’m a very large man, at least 300 pounds, and I love to fight so I completely understand their hesitation to reply. Ken decided to be brave:

“I mean, I think you could die man. That’s like the purest alcohol. Next to like, rubbing alcohol.”

“Die?!” I started, “I’m a fucking viking warlord! I’ll be fine.”

SIDENOTE: I’m half Finnish so when I get drunk I like to refer to myself as a viking even though I don’t think there were any Finnish vikings. If any of you have more knowledge on this subject please comment and educate me because I’m an idiot that went to college on a football scholarship, therefore I’m the epitome of a dumb jock.

“Bro,” Adam chimed in, “This is some dangerous shit. I mean, you can drink like a champ, but this is a really bad idea.” I stared at both of them for what felt like an eternity.

“I’ll be fine, let’s do this,” the famous last words of an idiot.

PART THREE COMING RIGHT NOW. I JUST WANT TO AVOID WRITING ONE MASSIVE PIECE. I PROMISE THREE IS COMING TONIGHT. STAY TUNED YOU FILTHY BASTARDS.

 

Mistakes Were Made (Part One)

I’m sure it comes as no surprise to anyone that I love to drink (I’m almost always drunk when I write something for this blog. Hence the litany of typos that I refuse to change even after I sober up because I don’t care and no one reads these devil words that closely anyway).

I’m pretty sure I’ve consumed just about every type of alcohol available, and if you’re like me (an alcoholic) then you have probably made some drink combinations that were vile and could peel the paint off a boat, but you probably also finished said drink only to have some sort of negative consequences. This is one of my favorite times.

(Frat story approaching just FYI)

So two of my brothers, Ken and Adam (neither of their real names), were going on simultaneous trips and I had a rule at our house, if you go to another state you have to bring back a local beer (I’m a huge fan of cool local brews if you’ve never read my yelp page which I highly recommend). Instead of beer, they both brought me something much better. Ken brought Everclear (the real stuff not that cheap garbage they sell in Minnesota) and Adam brought a bottle of absinthe (I’m assuming not legit absinthe that makes you hallucinate and shit but it was still pretty damn cool.) Naturally, my reaction was like when I’d wake up on Christmas morning and my parents had stayed awake all night to build some giant elaborate toy or structure for my siblings and I. Alcohol is adult Christmas. God bless my parents and God bless my former housemates.

First thing I did was rip the cap off the Everclear and pour shots (because I’m a sadist.) Now, regular vodka is bad enough to do shots with but Everclear should not be allowed on store shelves, this shit serves no purpose except to make large batch death brew for an awful party. Ken and Adam immediately refused the shots but being the housemaster (and much larger) I made them. They both wretched at the smell and nearly died from the taste while I couldn’t control my violent laughter.

“Let’s try the absinthe!” I shouted like a viking warlord thirsty for blood. They both responded with pained groans but ultimately agreed.

Absinthe is so cool. It came with this medieval spoon and it’s fucking green! It looks like something from a science fiction movie. I pulled the cork out and started to pour a drink for myself.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,”  Ken said hesitantly.

“Yeah he’s right bro,” Adam chimed in, “You have to use that spoon and pour it over sugar.”

“Sugar?!” I yell/ask.

“Yeah bro, sugar.”

“Well fuck that! I’m on Atkins!” I yelled as I continued to pour the absinthe into the nearest vessel by me. (SIDE NOTE: I was not on Atkins and I have no idea what Atkins is even to this day).

The green liquid smelled awful,for those that don’t know, absinthe has a very distinct black liquorice flavor, but that didn’t stop me from downing the green substance in one painful swallow.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Adam said.

“Fuck you, it’s the best idea,”I’m such a clever drunk.

Adam then proceeded to place a sugar cube on the fancy spoon and pour the absinthe over it into another glass and it became clear! Fucking clear! This stuff is so cool. It tasted much better with the sugar. I was proven wrong once again.

END OF PART ONE.

Deal with it. Part two will be out shortly. I didn’t want to write one long alcohol saga so I made a multi part epic. Enjoy this while I sleep off my hangover.

 

After School Special

“Come on man, you’re going to love it I promise,” Jake said while holding a marijuana pipe in his hand.

I had never done anything beyond having too much to drink so this was quite a new experience for me despite being in my twenties. The idea of drugs still seemed scary and dangerous as all those teachers in grade school had made it seem. Indeed, I was a truly ignorant child.

“I swear, you’re going to love it,” Jake assured once more as he handed me his pipe.

“I don’t even know what to do,” I said both honestly and ashamed at my inexperience.

“It’s easy, just put your thumb over the hole on the side, light the top, and take a big inhale. It’s just that easy.” I did just as he instructed.

As the smoke traveled through my mouth down my throat it felt as if a thousand very sharp knives were stabbing my esophagus. I coughed instantly and Jake began laughing hysterically.

“That was really good,” he said, the pride beaming from his eyes knowing he had taken my narcotics virginity.

“Let’s go for a drive,” he said with a big grin on his face.

We jumped in his hot rod and began cruising down country roads taking rips off his pipe. I felt like I was the coolest person in the universe.

I wish I could say we got into all sorts of drug addled shenanigans or got arrested and make this a cautionary tale, but we didn’t. We drove around, smoked pot, went home and watched a television documentary about super volcanoes. At some point in the night I switched to alcohol and passed out on the couch. I woke up the next morning to find Jake sleeping in the bath tub. Apparently he finished our vodka and thought the tub was a safe place to sleep. Moral of the story, drugs are fun.

Please be Better

The trailer for the new “Wonder Woman” movie is out and it looks amazing. This movie is important because girls need heroes to look up to as well, but that’s not what this article is about. This is about the fact that we can no longer judge the quality of a DC comics movie based on the trailer (I thought Man of Steel looked dope at the time and look where we are now).

DC has been riding the wave of cinematic success from The Dark Knight trilogy for too long and we need to acknowledge that everything they churn out is complete garbage and I swear to God, if they fuck up Wonder Woman I will lose my goddamn mind.

I love DC comics, but everything that isn’t a comic is complete garbage. How hard is it to make a decent Superman movie?? Why are they always trash? Meanwhile Marvel’s over here making movies about fucking heroes no one’s even heard of outside of the movie itself, and they’re all amazing! What the fuck DC?! It’s Superman, one of the biggest staples in all of comic book lore and you can’t produce a film worthy of his legacy (or Green Lantern for that matter, but that’s a conversation for another day).

As a longtime fan, DC I beg you, please be better. Not everything has to be a three hour long nap with God awful CG. Please take mercy on all our souls and just be better. A lot better.

500 Days of Fucked Up: How I Learned to Stop Living and Start Hating

NOTE: This piece I’m slightly ashamed of, but I also find it somewhat amusing. It’s my interpretation of the film “500 Days of Summer.” The following short review is bizarre to say the least, but I figure there’s no better place than the internet to share embarrassing material. Alcohol may or may not have been consumed in the film watching process. SPOILER ALERT (just so you know)

I have a nasty habit of seeing movies years after they’ve been released. This is unfortunate because after I see a movie I want to talk about it with every person in my contact list, but everyone I know either didn’t care enough to see the movie when it came out, or they don’t consider the movie significant enough to discuss. I just watched “500 Days of Summer” last Tuesday and I hated it. But then I watched it on Wednesday and I still didn’t like it, but for the last week I haven’t been able to escape this movie from creeping into my mind while I’m at work.

The film stars Joseph Gordon Levitt and Zoey Deschanel (I’m almost positive I spelled both of their names wrong, but I don’t care enough to look up the correct spelling) and I am not fond of either one of these actors, but they are perfect to star alongside one another because their only marketable characteristics are cute faces and dopey personalities.

The movie is a typical “boy meets girl” scenario. Levitt’s character sees Deschanel’s character and he becomes obsessed with her. The key word here is OBSESSED. She’s all he thinks about, and the only thing he wants in life, is to be in a meaningful relationship with her, but guess what, she doesn’t want that, so he tries to win her over. Throughout the entire course of the film Deschanel is constantly putting off Levitt’s advances. She could NOT be any clearer about her intentions, she only sees him as a friend but he’s a stubborn psycho so he continuously tries to make something out of nothing until they eventually sleep together. The following morning after their one night stand Levitt’s character goes on a choreographed dance number throughout the city (complete with animated birds) but Deschanel’s character is not given a definitive response to the events of the previous night so we are led to assume that everything in the universe is amazing and perfect, but it’s not. She breaks up with him, they separate, and she returns later and it turns out she got married to some guy we never see.

At this point, we are supposed to feel bad for Levitt’s character, I do not, and these events make me hate him even more. Deschanel did everything in her power to make sure he knew this was just a friendship, and yet he continued to relentlessly pursue her. This is my single complaint with the film and the sole reason why I haven’t been able to think about anything else: The entire premise of the film is based on a falsification of reality. Levitt is an unreliable point of view because we are never presented with the woman’s perspective. So while he’s dancing through the streets to Hall and Oates, she’s probably sitting at home having a panic attack about the horrible mistake she made because she has only placated his insane fantasies.

At the end of the film, Levitt’s character finds a new girl to obsess about and life goes on for everyone except me. Am I the only person that sees how incredibly fucked up this ending is? He just got over his unhealthy borderline criminal obsession with one woman only to replace her with another woman he can stalk for 500 more days. This movie is not a love story, it is a character profile of a serial killer.