There’s a Bar in my Bathroom

As the title sates, there is indeed a bar in my bathroom. It’s a staple I have installed in every establishment that has housed my physical body, and one of the many reasons why the bathroom is my favorite room of any home (well, favorite room in MY home).

Having a bathroom is important, but having a bathroom bar is more important. You ever had a drink in the shower? It’s fantastic. DISCLAIMER make sure it’s a night shower and not a pre-work morning shower, people to tend to throw around words like “alcoholic” if that’s the case.

I should mention, this is not a fancy bar. It’s comprised of cheap liquor bottles and a small table I bought at IKEA. Lovely table. I’m a big fan. Since I already keep booze in my bathroom I also on occasion keep beer under my sink. I’m not a big beer drinker, I prefer hard liquor, no preference, whatever gets my drunk. With beer however, I’m very picky. I enjoy drinking silly hipster brews in moderation and pretending I know what I’m talking about when in actuality I’m quite possibly the most uninformed person in the room.

“Hmmm, yes this beer tastes as if it was made using hops and malt,” he said trying to pretend he knows anything.

Since I keep beer under my bathroom sink next to cleaning chemicals and my gun, there’s really no great way to keep it cold so I have grown to develop a love for warm beer (with a nice after taste of chemicals). I’m going to be honest, warm beer gets a bad reputation. I think it’s delicious. I like it so much I made a Tweet about it last night. FYI if you people read this and are also on Twitter FOLLOW ME IMMEDIATELY OUR FEED IS FUNNY AS FUCK!!! @ViridianReader.

Warm beers delicious. Cold beer is solid as well, but if you haven’t tried warm beer I highly suggest it, but don’t try it with some big brand beer that sponsors sporting events such as a brand that rhymes with “Poors Flight” you know what Poors Flight and sex in a canoe have in common? They’re both fucking close to water *Rim Shot*.

Have something thick and hoppy. Something dark and thick (also how I like my women). What’s your opinion on warm beer? Have you tried it? Did you like it? If not, why? Let’s talk about it. Drink more and sex more. Life is fun, and I love you all. Have a good night.

Thoughts on “Lady Bloodfight”

No, you are NOT having a stroke, that is indeed the title of this piece.

I am completely livid that Netflix has taken away the star system and has replaced it with the stupidly simplistic ‘like’ or ‘dislike’ option. I’m complicated dammit! Sometimes I feel ambivalent about something, or maybe I don’t completely love or hate it. As a result of this moronic system change I have taken it upon myself to watch all the dumb shit in my queue and write a review about it.

This is a project I’ve wanted to do for a while but never got around to it because I didn’t want this to turn into a movie blog (because God knows there’s plenty of those). The reason I’m doing this is because my queue has gotten out of hand and everything in it can fall into one of three categories: 1. It’s something I love, have seen a million times and will never stop watching 2. I have zero intention of watching it ever, but I keep it there so when I have company over I appear cool and 3. things I promised myself I would watch but never did. Everything I review will fall under the third category.

I will be using a standard five star system and if I enjoy something there’s a very good chance it will remain in my queue with all the other things I have no intention of removing.

Up first on the docket is the classic film “Lady Bloodfight,” Yes you read that correctly. That’s the name of a fucking movie that got made. Lady Bloodfight. Let that sink in for a minute. Full disclosure, the title is the only reason i put the movie in my list and is the only reason why I chose it as the first film to review, and boy howdy, am I glad I did. This film has everything you could want, violence, women, and violent women.

I love martial arts films, but this is not a martial arts film, this a very dumb joke attempting to be a witty anecdote. Think an all female “Bloodsport.” It’s ridiculous, stupid, and honestly, very very fun.

These women are tough as hell. The fight scenes are awesome, and these women kick some serious ass. While I’m jovial to see women in a film beating the holy piss out of people, I just wish it was a better overall film. The acting is flat, the entire premise is a cliche, and I had many moments where I was completely confused only to be momentarily distracted by another over the top sequence of female violence. Quite possibly the most appropriately named movie ever. If they gave awards for names, this film deserves all of them.

Overall, I think Bruce Lee would be pretty proud of the fight sequences, but he’d be laughing through the rest of the film. I’m feeling generous because I did thoroughly enjoy the fights (and Bloodsport isn’t terrible) so I’m going to give it 3/5, but I’m taking it out of my queue.

I encourage you all to be adventurous, take a trip through your own queues, and watch something different tonight.

We Are Who We Are

Allow me a quick moment to part the kimono if you will. I wanted to take a brief moment to thank every goddamn person that has taken the time to read the dumb shit we post on here. We want to have fun and I have nothing but love for every single one of you.

If you look at our post history, there’s a three year gap from 2014 to now. That’s because this originally started as college project between myself and a few friends of mine to share our collegiate creative writing endeavors. I then forgot this blog existed for three years until April and I wanted to start writing again. I want this blog to be a fun place to read stupid stuff, and if you want a good laugh, go read the old shit from 2014 when my friends and I were trying to be writers. Once more, I love you all and thank you for your never ending support in all our perpetually stupid articles.

Suck it Losers (Part Five)

It’s time for everyone’s favorite continuous sports related series of word adventures.

Full disclosure, I never imagined this stupid shit being the thing that kept going, but sports are always happening and I’m always excited to write about them.

Today we have something special and it’s not about basketball! (Real quick for those of you that have actually read the first four parts, the Minnesota Timberwolves are going to win the NBA championship. If you don’t get the reference go read the first four parts you monsters).

The Miami Dolphins have officially signed the great Jay “clearly doesn’t get enough sleep” Cutler, and I for one could not be anymore excited to see him play. ┬áThe views on Jay “eternally disappointed looking father” Cutler are skewed. Some believe he’s going to make the team a playoff contender, and others think he’s goddamn loser that should be banned from ever holding a football under any circumstances.

Jay “personification of the term ‘I guess'” Cutler is not a franchise QB. He’s barely a QB. I mean, don’t get me wrong Ryan Tannehill is far from being the greatest pure athlete that has ever done anything ever, but Jay “Human sigh of sadness” Cutler is a legend for being trash. This team is doomed and Jay “anthropomorphic emoji of depression” Cutler is about to lead the charge of one abysmal team.

I don’t have any discussion questions for this post, just share your best Jay Cutler nicknames. I love you all. Timberwolves are going to win the championship.

An Open Letter to Smash Burger

I just made stuffed mushrooms while listening to Primus’ first alum. Let’s get weird.

I had Smash Burger yesterday. Never had it before. Probably won’t have it again. It’s not a bad place, in fact it’s pretty good, but it just isn’t good enough for me to go back (especially when there’s a Five Guys closer to my apartment).

For those of you lucky enough to not be “in the know” about Smash Burger, it’s a burger place. That’s all you need to know. I wanted to ┬átry something new and every person I know continuously recommended Smash Burger so I finally gave in to their demands and tried it (never give in to peer pressure kids). I arrived and quickly caught on to how things work, you pick a burger and order it, simple enough. Here’s a direct transcript from my visit:

“What can I get for you?” The waitress is young and very sweet, almost sickeningly so.

“I’ll have the barbecue bacon burger meal,” despite my stoic face I’m very excited.

“What kind of meat would you like?” This question confuses me more than I’d care to admit.

“Meat? Isn’t it all cow?” I say instead of saying “beef” like a normal fucking person.

“Well you can do beef if you want, but there’s also chicken, turkey, and black bean.” This makes me happy, I love a good turkey burger.

“I’ll have turkey instead.”

“Great! Would you like Smash Fries with your burger?”

“The fuck are those?” I ask without thinking about perhaps talking like a decent non-aggressive person.

“They’re our regular fries with oil and spices,”

“Sure why not?”

I pay and take a seat while I wait for my food. They have Diet Dr. Pepper on tap, I like this. Every place should be required to have DDP available.

When my food arrives I am immediately disappointed. The burger is so small I want to ask my waiter if this is the appetizer for my actual burger, and apparently “Smash Fries” is simply code for wet diarrhea fries. The burgers actually quite good, and at risk of sounding so terribly American, it is very small, and the fries are rubbish. It’s just a wet pile of hot oil on my tray.

Smash Burger, it’s not that you’re terrible, it’s just… There’s a lot of better places. I’d rather give my money to Five Guys.

 

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.

 

Am I the Worst?

So apparently I’m the worst. Which didn’t necessarily come as a surprise to me, but was certainly disappointing to hear.

Some background, I LOVE talking during movies. Not like in the theater, only at home. If I’m in a movie theater I am more than capable of shutting the fuck up, but if I’m watching a movie in my home with friends, I will talk as much as I want. Apparently, many people hate this about me and a handful have gone as far to say they will only watch a movie with me if I promise not to talk (I almost always break this promise).

What could I possibly be talking about you might wonder? I’m glad I asked. My typical commentary ranges from general conversation, jokes about the movies, or my favorite line: “How do I know that person?” which is almost always answered with: “I don’t know, and will you please stop talking?” I don’t stop talking.

Again, this is NOT in public or at someone else’s place this is only within my home. Do I have the right to talk as much as I want during a screening in my own residence or should I be considerate and shut my gob?

To be fair, there are usually a handful of people that enjoy my commentary, but I get the feeling the majority wants to kick my ass.