Local Beer Specials

ODE TO QUARTERS:
        The four of us surround the table in the heart of the house Placed in the center sits the traditional glass with the traditional drink "Let's play some quarters!" I exclaim I slam the quarter on the table just in front of the glass It bounces back up, landing inside with a subtle splash Lucky coin; bathing in our elixir A quick cry of approval erupts from my friends "You drink!" I command, pointing straight across from me He brings the glass to his mouth with a sarcastic sigh and wraps his lips around it In the blink of an eye, our ale is gone All that remains is the lone quarter at the bottom, angry to have its bath stolen But the game continues on, repeating the same process with everyone It seems time does not apply to us, our private sanctuary forgotten by everything Rules are made, rules are broken, but always enjoyed We feel our bond grow tighter with each passing second With consumption comes reminiscing, jokes and plans for the future Problems of the day and of days prior not only vanish but fail to have ever existed at all.

Written by Byan "Fire crotch" Thompson

What a Fucking Disappointment...

It was a chilly, bitter-sweet Tuesday in November. I say this and remember the day specifically because I had quit my job as a roughneck the day prior and I was in dire need to burn off some steam.  Naturally, being the Cro-Magnon with Neanderthal intelligence that I am, I thought that there was no better way to do this than to get drunk and try to sleep with something. At least it sounded like a good idea at the time. Hence a party at my apartment was born.

The night started off well enough. I had a smoking hot girl lined up in no time. Thankfully, the only downside was that she had no personality whatsoever. I only mention this as a downside because every once and a while when she spoke, I noticed my ears bled. But since her sterling vocabulary was not my motivation for keeping her around, I was willing to forego healthy hearing in the never-ending pursuit of pussy. 

 The night carried on with sans problems for the first couple hours and little more than drinking games and a jolly good time.  Around hour three is where I, somehow unbeknownst to me, found myself taking body shots with the evening’s prospect. As this quickly metamorphosed into a bunch of making out and groping of her bathing suit areas, I didn’t think it unreasonable to assume I was in like sin. 

Then…it happened.

I’m referring to the event that was to be the catalyst for one of the worst nights I have EVER experienced; and that is saying a lot, given my innumerable drunken debauches, arrests and haphazard misadventures. My good friend, who we will refer to as Spider Man, straight-up projectile-vomited ALL the fuck over my living room floor.

Now, before we continue, allow me please to first clarify something about myself to which all my close friends can attest.  When I'm sober, I'm quite possibly one of the kindest, most understanding and compassionate guys you'll ever meet. I would consider myself a good friend. However, and very lamentably, there are occasions when I drink that I am quite the polar opposite. I’m not good or decent or mild or even just kind of an ass; I’m just, frankly, a bad person. In fact, one of my closest friends who, coincidently and appropriately as it were, has quite the same problem described drunk me by saying, "When he gets like that, he either needs to fuck something or fuck something up."  This may be the bluntest and most accurate way to describe the Mr. Hyde to my Dr. Jekyll.  

This night was for Spider Man and me, regrettably, one of those nights.

 After blowing chunks all over my living room floor, he retreated to the restroom to finish what he had started.  Concerned for his well-being, my body shot partner left me in the kitchen to check on my heaving friend.  My initial anger over the chunky, disgusting mess and abhorrent stench that was now present in my living room quickly swelled to furious rage because I was no longer making out with/groping anything. So, of course, being the intoxicated genius that I am, I thought it productive and beneficial to my situation and Spider Man’s to march into the bathroom and tell him a bit “what for” by tearing him a new asshole mid-spew. 

This, however, turned out to be, very quite possibly, the worst possible move for all parties involved.

Mid-purge, Spider Man lifted his face off his porcelain throne and took a shot at me with what could very well be the worst attempt at a right hook in the history of punches. And with that…it was fuckin’ ON.

 I stepped out of the path of this half-assed blow and easily dodged it. Then I began the pummeling of the slower, drunker and far lest seasoned fighter friend of mine.  Thankfully, this only lasted a few moments, as the drunken hottie incessantly screamed for me to stop.  By this time, spectators who had begun crowding the door became participants in order to break it up. Being the enraged barbarian I am whilst intoxicated as I was, none of this phased me in the least until I heard what may be one of the funniest/dumbest things ever uttered by a human by the name of Sally Corn Cobb.

“No Scott, stop! You have military training!”

What the fuck, right?

 So, of course, I did the logical thing:  I pivoted on my right foot and punched HIM straight in the jaw, thereby halting any further opposition to me for the time being. 

Thankfully, for my sake and for Spider Man’s sake, after only a bit more fist-fury in Spiderman’s direction, a small amount of rationality returned to me and I halted the melee of my good friend.  

I then looked to my “surely impressed by my Macho Man Steven Segal kung fu actions” for consolation and loving. But what is this? Lo and behold, go figure…she was furious and made her feelings towards what I had done CRYSTAL fucking clear with multiple slaps to the face. And, what is insult without injury? On top of just being pissed off at me, she negated any possibility of me manifesting a false “sob story” to tell her about how rough of a childhood I had in an attempt to score some sympathy snatch by letting me know she was leaving to take Adam home and would NOT be returning. After their departure, I kicked the remaining few slack-jawed gawkers and stragglers out of my apartment and proceeded to throw a hissy-fit of epic proportions, consisting of kicking over furniture, breaking kitchenware and generally just making an awful mess of things.  

You'll have to forgive me, but it was at this point that I blacked out. I’m not entirely sure what caused me to take this next step, but for some reason I decided I was going to drive somewhere. To this day, I’m still not sure what my destination was, but my best guess would be either the hottie’s last-known whereabouts or some other shot in the dark for ass. The only thing I know is the next thing I remember clearly is blowing out, what I thought at the time to be, a tire on my driver side.  When I got out for further inspection, however, it turned out to be BOTH driver side tires.  I went to the rear of my vehicle, pulled out a tire iron and intended on retrieving the spare. Unfortunately, to follow suit with the previous events of the evening, there was not one. Heaven forbid there be plot twist that benefits the antagonist!  The rage I had earlier set back in at this point. My blood neared its boiling point. Then I had an epiphany and knew how to correct everything and salvage something good from this God-forsaken night: beat the shit out of my back bumper with my tire iron. I screamed every bit of bad language and vulgarity my drunk-mind could muster at the damn bumper. Afterwards, I felt quite vindicated, since it was the bumper that got me into such a pickle to begin with.   

After expelling nearly every bit of energy I had left, I attempted to compose myself. I reached for my cell phone to call for a ride.  But guess what? Go ahead. Guess. Take a big fucking guess what happens next? Yep, that’s right…

 No FUCKING cell phone. I frantically searched the car, hoping to God, Buddha and Allah it had fallen on to the floor board. But, whaddya know…no such luck.

Fuck my life.

 The only redeeming news for me at this point is that my parents lived only about a mile up the street. My adrenaline had once again subsided, so I blacked again.  This is my excuse, at least, as to why I decided to drive a massive Expedition on two rims a mile up the road to my parent’s house instead of walking. 

I arrived at my parents and, although without any recollection, managed to stumble inside and found my parent’s guest bed. When the monstrous abomination inside me quieted down, I fell asleep, only to emerge the next morning, regretful, remorseful and in pain. I was lying halfway out of the bed with MASSIVE fucking hangover. I was fully clothed and my vehicle was definitely sitting out in front of the house, looking as beat-up and beat-down as I surely did.

In summation, I battered a good friend, lost my cell phone, tore the SHIT out my own apartment and had to pay over $1,500 to repair everything on my car. All of this, beyond a shadow of a doubt = worst night EVER

I didn’t even get laid.

Hell, it makes for a decent story though.

Oh, the drunken escapades that go down at my apartment. Truly entertaining. Adam drank too much and puked. So naturally, being the standup guy and dedicated friend that I am, I shaving creamed him. And not just a tit-bit either. I'm talking full on covered and smothered, used nearly all of the can, the whole apartment still smells like mint - that kinda shaving creamed him. I nearly ruined the whole ordeal by laughing as I was inches from his drunk ear. He resembled the Michelin tire marshmellow guy thing. Ok, not that much, but I just wanted you to know the extent of this mess. He then retaliated at eight this morning. I'd anticipated this last night so I made a barricade on my door prior to turning in. Apparently, it was not strong enough to withstand a hungover, creamy Adam bent on revenge. Let's just say what goes around, comes around. On to Scott...Scott passed out in the chair by the computer. When the beast finally stirred awake within him, he made a valiant effort to stand up, but unfortunately spilled his still open beer all over him whilst taking a tumble to the ground. This was most humorous. Next, he did the only logical thing to do in front of a room of people after you wet yourself with beer. He stripped down to his boxers. We laughed. I could tell he then had to urinate. He tried to open the sliding glass door out to the balcony, but he was sliding the side that didn't slide. What a tongue twister...anyway...I tried to inform him of this, but he was steadfast and determined to get it open. We laughed harder. After finally accepting defeat, he then decided that the front door was a urinal. I promptly had to inform him otherwise. I carried the big lug to the bathroom and allowed him to pee in the proper vestibule. After about thirty seconds, we see Scott's boxers fly out of the bathroom and land ever so softly on the hallway floor. We laughed even more. But then I was concerned and had a fleeting thought. If Scott's boxers were on the floor, what was hiding the atrocities that they had concealed? No! No naked Scott! Noooooo! But alas, it was too late. He emerged in his naked splendor. I was torn between vomiting and splitting my sides. I chose the latter. I threw him his shirt to shield us from his pale treasure. He did, but not in the way I'd originally intended. Instead of merely covering his junk, he perceived his t-shirt to be pants, the sleeves the legs and the collar the unnecessary hole in the crotch. We laughed hysterically. He then managed to stumble his way to the couch and pass out wearing his shirt-pants. Being the preservationist that I am, I insisted we take pictures. Unfortunately I can't post them on my blog. That saddens because you all are being deprived of these hilarities. But then again, the only people that care, I will be hanging out with tomorrow night. You can see then. I didn't go to bed till after five. I think the laughter was just too much...Good times, good times...

Written By Bryan "Fire Crotch" Thompson

To keep you from being confused, Cocksnot and Sally Corn Cobb are two really good friends and those are there actual names, there parents hate them, and were both the result of broken condoms.

The story:  Lived in a house with a good friend; we had to move out under extenuating circumstances.  We had a lot of furniture and were now moving into a much smaller residence. 

The question:  What to do with the excess furniture...  Mainly a couch that so many ppl had expelled bodily fluids on, and just all around unpleasantries have taken place. 

Drinking ensues...........   
The Solution:  Dump polluted couch at a intersection. 

Second dilemma:  What to do with the one gallon burden of excess gasoline that is monopolizing a space that could be used to carry something of more use like a case of beer, not to mention no grass would need to be mowed in our apartment so no reason to lug the heavy apparatus... 

Not to far in the future:  I grab the excess gas and begin dousing the end of the couch hanging off its new location, the tailgate, Matt informs me a small amount will suffice and it is a poor idea to add anymore than a couple of ounces.  A few moments later after of course not heeding his warning for I am an intelligent man and know how much a three seat couch will require, I finish emptying the entire contents of the gallon gas receptacle over the couch and we load up. 

Cocksnot driving, matt passenger seat, Sally Corn cobb and myself in the bed.  There were at least ten of us sitting at the house during our revelation and all followed in several cars behind us to see the asininity.  We pull into the bank next to 15th & Santa fe, I tell my very slow friend Cocksnot to not stop at any point once our sojourn has been undertaken and the contents of our carriage are alleviated from the bed to keep from burning Sally Corn cobb and I alive in the bed of the truck like we were jews during the holocaust, but he is a very slow neanderthal that understands very little (Cocksnot you are a douche, and I fucking hate you).  I go to light the couch Sally Corn Cobb lets out the most shrill scream I have ever heard exact girlishly exclaimed words were "NO JJ DON'T LIGHT IT YET!!!" but I know what I'm doing I'm a man.  The couch lights in a flash engulfing the rear end of Cocksnots (Douche bag) truck instantly.  At this point I remember Matt's lost words of advice and swearing myself for not better adhering as the entire bed of the truck is submerged with fire.  Sally corn cobb is now screaming like a small girl who is upset that she did not get a lolly pop.  Cocksnot finally pulls out of the bank and onto 15th we get to the intersection and low and behold he stops, doing the exact opposite of what I asked of him of course..  The wind reverses sending fury of flames directly on myself and Sally corn cobb. I now join Sally Corn Cobb in screaming like a small girl and I begin pushing at the couch feverantly with my hands trying to get it out of the bed, I don't think Sally corn cobb did anything besides curl up into the fetal position, and I only say this cause I think it singed a bit of his hair, me I end up with third degree burns on my left hand a ruined beanie that is melted in the front and the left half of my face gray with 2nd degree burns with all the tissue dead.  I looked like 2 face from batman to give you a visual.  I called in the next day to work and said I would not be attending for a bit, and I didn't step foot out of my house for a week.  Sally Corn cobb had some fucking burnt eye brows, not even burnt but lightly singed, that guy is a bitch, and Cocksnot fo course thought it was hilarious.  Either way it ended up on the news with a picture of metal couch springs in the corner of the intersection, with arsonist 'at large'.  We had some great pictures of my face but who knows what happened to them.  I had to wait a couple days before I could go to the hospital for fear of receprocation by the local servents of the law.  It was the worst pain I have ever felt still to this day in my life...  so far. 

Lesson learned:  Get a better driver.

Have you ever thought about getting your lip pierced?
Did that once.  Made consuming spaghetti difficult so decided it was time to move on and remove it.

Does a kiss make you feel better?

No idea.

Have you ever passed out on the bathroom floor?

A night with tequila.
It will make you feel as if you're a jew during the holocaust with Hitler trying to get into the bathroom to evacuate you to a concentration camp.
All you can do is lay there and cry, and try not to piss your pants and definitely allow no one to enter your abode for fear of removal.

Do you start the water before you get in the shower or when you get in?

sure unless I'm feeling froggy.

What did you do today?

Pulled my tool out of that dirty hole cleaned it up and put it back in and started drilling ahead again.

Have you ever brushed your teeth while in the shower?

Yep, tried to multitask on another event in my life as well, drinking while racing, I ended up rolling my truck.  That was the last time, one thing at a time now, I brush at the sink.

Have you had more than 3 boyfriends/girlfriends at the same time?

That would signify not one but 3 relationships of sorts so no.

Have you ever thought about your death?

I see stuff and wonder about the excruciating pain that it would cause if I did it and how long it would take before my demise.  Fucked up I know, but even the wrong speed of ingesting a muffin can cause choking.  Think about it.

Ever been in love?

Yep and pissed it away.  That's how I roll.

Would you rather be in a permanent relationship or play the field?

old school said it best.  One pussy for the rest of your life; real good Frank.

What is your favorite sport?

Rabid Weasel Tossing.  

What color is your shower curtain?


Clear with yellow rubber duckies on it, yeah I'm not even kidding..

Have you ever had stitches?


Several times in the head as a small child; thanks mom for your great parenting and supervision.

Did you believe that boys/girls had cooties?

No but I do believe that a lot of them do have std's.

Do you know how to use chop sticks?

I didn't learn to order food in mexican for nothing.

Lyrics stuck in your head?

Maybe it was Memphis maybe it was southern starry nights, maybe it was you maybe it was me but it sure felt right.
(I'll say it for you...  wtf)

Do you like the Red Sox or Yankeess?


Baseball is about as cool as child birth.

What are you doing tomorrow?

Penetrating some hole.

Who was the last person you couldn't take your eyes off of?

Chick at the gym, she had great legs I hate to stare but damn.



Have you ever given money to a homeless person?

No mother fucker can get a job; but I can say in my dad's past time he likes to get the bums to come up to his door at stop lights then he gives them job applications for waffle house and speeds away quickly.  He thinks its hilarious.  I was dumb founded when he told me this, not at the fact that some would consider it cruel but at the fact that I had never thought about doing it.
Kinda seems like one of those things you should get on video.

Have you ever run over an animal?

I hit a cat once, I stopped in the middle of the road got out of my car went and viewed the feline saw it was still alive, got back into my vehicle and backed over him/her (it was unclear as to the sex in its current condition).  Not to be cruel but the it wouldn't die and it was seriously messed up so I drove over it one more time, then carried it off the side of the road and buried it with one of my floor mats.  I was traumatized, and now needed a new set of floor mats.

I carry trash bags now.

What is your favorite cereal?

Right now perking my interests is raisin bran crunch.  I tried the new raisin bran extra bud was appalled by its lack of luster and lack of 'extra' flavor.
Damn you Post cereals your commercials have instilled in me the same confidence I have in our government.

Have you ever had an Oreo with peanut butter?

No but I once stole hub caps for a minivan.  Just as lame as that question.

What are you doing right at this moment?

Sitting adjacent from a man with a terrible speech impediment with music very loud to stop him from continuing to try and carry on a conversation about his ugly children.

Do you think its right for straight guys to get their tongue pierced?

Tongue piercings on guys are about as cool as a crack head prostitute that is trying to eat a carrot with her one remaining tooth.  Funny looking yet sad.

Where's your favorite place to be?

Sandy beach / cold beer / good company

What's your favorite song?

Songs are a lot like women, it is just wrong to pick one favorite.



Are you more of a coffee or alcohol drinker?

At this current partition of my life I'm gonna have to say alcohol.



Have you ever thrown shoes on a telephone wire?

Not my own.

Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Yeah but apparently I was the only one that got the memo on pretty much every occasion.

Have you ever been arrested?

I've got to states under my belt so far.  Nothing like the orange jump suit to bring out my blood shot eyes the next day after a drunken exploit.

Do you dream in black and white?

Last night I dreamed I was in the  Philippines on a boat made of custard with two very attractive women.  I was abruptly awoke though for work.  Damn it.  Also I later I found myself contemplating the dream and have no idea how this vessel of pudding stayed afloat or carried the weight of the three of us.
I dream in color

 
Do you talk in your sleep?

Yep I drool, pass gas and kick too.  

Do you snore?

Well I've never heard it, nor any recollection of said events taking place so no.



Are you a redneck?

Inherent with the oil field work but I try to deny it.



Funniest thing you heard all day?

This guys lisp was and frequent pauses in conversation to I don't know figure out where the fuck he is or something.  It was funny at first, but shit got old real quick, and loud music ensued.

Have you ever gotten a mosquito bite on your face?

Three times then I said no more.  I'm 10 months sober now.


What are you afraid of?
Another birthday, last year I road a bull this year I said I would sky dive, when I was drunk...  Now I'm committed. 

Alright, for anyone that is unfamiliar with the nigerian 419 scam it is ppl from Nigeria that send out fake emails telling ppl they have won an exceptional amount of cash and to collect it they must divulge there personal information such as bank accounts and addresses.  They speak very poor english and for the most part have very little idea what you are saying to them.  To sum it up you can say what ever you want and it is absolutely hilarious cause they never give up, well I guess they do if you tell them that you finger there mother.  Don't do that they wont respond and you have to find a new chump.  Enjoy

Where is the beer specials?

Where are the great beer specials?