Full disclosure, I was extremely hammered when I wrote this last night...it may be more insufferable than usual, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
You know what the best part of moving to a new city is? Knowing that you are better than every pathetic fuck that stayed in their hometown after graduation.
I’m kidding. I love my hometown, I love the Midwest even more and I think that sticking around is exactly what a lot of people should do. It makes sense and leads to a pretty high quality of life. No, the best part I think is the fact that at this age you can, so why not? You’re not married, you probably have a shit job so that’s no important reason to stick around, you could probably make comparable money blogging using Google adsense…you have nothing tying you down. Yah, you’ll miss your friends but they’ll appreciate you more the 4 times a year you come home. The best part about leaving is that you won’t sit around when you’re 40 and be like “I really wish I would have moved to New York when I was 24” If you have seen the movie 17 again (love you ZF) you obviously understand that if you don’t chase your dreams you will grow to hate yourself and everyone around you, and you will never be able to write an autobiography because a story with one setting is fucking boring.
But the worst part about moving away is not missing your family and friends, it’s not assimilating to a new culture, it’s not moving in with Craigslist roommates, it’s not trying to establish a new rotation of reliable fuck buddies…it’s playing 21 questions.
Small talk is the fucking worst. Everyone hates it, yet everyone does it. “Oh my god, you’re back in town, good to see you, where are you living, what are you doing, what’s it like?” This is all bullshit. If someone cares what you’re up to they’ll call you, they’ll keep in touch. The awkward bar hug followed by the 30 second mandatory conversation is just an obligatory joke. I understand social norms, so I tolerate this, and I realize that there is a small chance that people are legitimately intrigued…but realize that when you ask me these questions you turn me into a self promoting jackass. So here is my brief guide to my fellow jet setters that have found themselves in this precarious position.
“So how is LA?”
It’s awesome. I wear flip flops a lot.
“What do you do?”
I’m Orlando Bloom’s stunt double.
“Really?”
No, not really…I hate it when people ask me what I do because it requires a long winded explanation and I am asked it 72 times a night.
“Oh, (nervous laughter) so do you like go to the beach a lot?”
Yah man, every day…see the thing is when you live in a stereotypically desirable place you don’t have to work. We go to the beach at 8am every day, lay out and drink 12 packs of beer…and magically once every 2 weeks our bank accounts are replenished.
“So where do you live?”
In the valley with a couple dykes.
“Really?”
I’m serious this time.
“Have you ever taken a bar shit?”
Ya, but I don’t want to talk about it.
“How hot are the chicks out there?”
They’re on average .2 better than the Midwest.
“Do you see celebs and stuff?”
I got a blowjob from Miley Cyrus last night…she didn’t swallow. We smoked weed afterwards, the salvia cover story is a lie.
“When are you coming back?”
So you’re asking me when I’m going to fail and come crawling back home…fuck you.
“Do you miss the Midwest?”
Yes, I have a lot of friends here, I was pretty popular and my dad cooked good steaks, but I also live for the adventure and it makes me feel important that I’m the center of attention when I come home.
“This post is pretty smug, you think you’re pretty fucking special don’t you?”
5 people told me they liked my blog tonight so I’m feeling pretty cocky.
“How good is the pot?”
Not as good as the heroin.
“You do heroin now?”
No, just read the yelp reviews.
“Why did you call this post 21 questions and then only write like 15?”
Because it’s 4 o clock in the morning and the movie Salt is on and I think a scene with Angelina sideboob is approaching. Happy Holidays friends….actually fuck that I’m back in Indiana. Merry Christmas friends, I hope you all get premium Mr. Skin accounts from Santa and I hope to see everyone out Monday night to high five me on how awesome this post was.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Single Dude in Chicago
By far the hardest decision to make in Chicago during the winter is which restaurant you can walk to...it usually leads to me putting it off indefinitely and watching reruns of Glee on demand. The delivery options in Lincoln Park are severely undeveloped...that or I just don't know all the secrets.
I was supposed to be in the backseat of a car drinking 312's on my way to Indianapolis right now, but because I never plan ahead the Megabus was sold out and my brother doubts his ability to drive to Chicago and back in one day. Alas, I have one more night in Chicago...and it is fucking great. As miserable as it is to not see the sun during the month of December, all of that is completely redeemed by the Christmas cheer all around me. The bars are so decorated, all the students are out for the holidays and getting extra drunk at my favorite watering holes. It is of no consequence to me that I was upping the average age at Kincades by 4 years last night. I partied in a bank vault watched a fat woman beat my old roommate in pop a shot basketball and stayed at a bar past 2 am...how they haven't figured out the late night bar thing in LA is fucking beyond me.
Sidenote: So California is broke? Invent a late night liquor license sell it for 10 million dollars...bars will open in LA that stay open (legally) until 5 in the morning and will charge $20 a drink and people will fucking go and that will be the most profitable bar in the country.
I have one night left in Chicago and I probably won't be here until next August or something like that. There is too much to do, do I make it a rush and division night? Are the lights at the zoo really that great? Where do I go to dinner...byob? It's true that most people have left to go to their respective hometowns, but I really don't think I'm missing much at schooner night tonight in ripple.
With just 2 days left until Christmas, I haven't bought a fucking thing yet, but in classic narcissistic fashion I'll probably go to the mall tomorrow and end up just buying a ton of shit for myself. Then Christmas eve when I'm hammered on egg nog I'll buy a bunch of tickets on stub hub for a Blackhawks game and make my family take me up there in between Christmas and New Year's. (Note, ticketmaster never closes...don't fret at 2am if you dropped the ball on shopping...just click print and you're golden) This way I get to enjoy the gift, spend time with the family and I'll make a dinner reservation at Gibson's which they will pay for! Cha-ching. (Seriously, you should never give a gift that is anything other than tickets...you can get a girl a necklace, but you will not have fun with that necklace in case she gives you a blowjob as a thank you...but then again if you go to a cool concert you might still get the blowjob)
I don't have a ton on my mind today and I should spend less time mindlessly blogging about how great it is to be back in the Windy City and actually go enjoy it. But I will leave you with this...Merry Christmas from the entire staff and family at Single Dude Enterprises. I'll be back in Indy tomorrow...maybe and then Tahoe for the New Year if a certain concert promoter I know gets his fucking shit together. Treat the holidays as an excuse to do things to excess and I hope you get a lot of great Christmas presents...personally I'm still hoping to get that fucking ferbie that never came 14 years ago, and never let anyone tell you that you have to eat a Christmas ham. I already emailed my dad that I'm expecting a Christmas filet.
I was supposed to be in the backseat of a car drinking 312's on my way to Indianapolis right now, but because I never plan ahead the Megabus was sold out and my brother doubts his ability to drive to Chicago and back in one day. Alas, I have one more night in Chicago...and it is fucking great. As miserable as it is to not see the sun during the month of December, all of that is completely redeemed by the Christmas cheer all around me. The bars are so decorated, all the students are out for the holidays and getting extra drunk at my favorite watering holes. It is of no consequence to me that I was upping the average age at Kincades by 4 years last night. I partied in a bank vault watched a fat woman beat my old roommate in pop a shot basketball and stayed at a bar past 2 am...how they haven't figured out the late night bar thing in LA is fucking beyond me.
Sidenote: So California is broke? Invent a late night liquor license sell it for 10 million dollars...bars will open in LA that stay open (legally) until 5 in the morning and will charge $20 a drink and people will fucking go and that will be the most profitable bar in the country.
I have one night left in Chicago and I probably won't be here until next August or something like that. There is too much to do, do I make it a rush and division night? Are the lights at the zoo really that great? Where do I go to dinner...byob? It's true that most people have left to go to their respective hometowns, but I really don't think I'm missing much at schooner night tonight in ripple.
With just 2 days left until Christmas, I haven't bought a fucking thing yet, but in classic narcissistic fashion I'll probably go to the mall tomorrow and end up just buying a ton of shit for myself. Then Christmas eve when I'm hammered on egg nog I'll buy a bunch of tickets on stub hub for a Blackhawks game and make my family take me up there in between Christmas and New Year's. (Note, ticketmaster never closes...don't fret at 2am if you dropped the ball on shopping...just click print and you're golden) This way I get to enjoy the gift, spend time with the family and I'll make a dinner reservation at Gibson's which they will pay for! Cha-ching. (Seriously, you should never give a gift that is anything other than tickets...you can get a girl a necklace, but you will not have fun with that necklace in case she gives you a blowjob as a thank you...but then again if you go to a cool concert you might still get the blowjob)
I don't have a ton on my mind today and I should spend less time mindlessly blogging about how great it is to be back in the Windy City and actually go enjoy it. But I will leave you with this...Merry Christmas from the entire staff and family at Single Dude Enterprises. I'll be back in Indy tomorrow...maybe and then Tahoe for the New Year if a certain concert promoter I know gets his fucking shit together. Treat the holidays as an excuse to do things to excess and I hope you get a lot of great Christmas presents...personally I'm still hoping to get that fucking ferbie that never came 14 years ago, and never let anyone tell you that you have to eat a Christmas ham. I already emailed my dad that I'm expecting a Christmas filet.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Wingin' it
Let's talk chicken wings!. Of course teryaki flavored wings from B dubbs are the best in the world. (They are putting a bdubbs at Hollywood and Highland, I can hardly contain myself) And Hooters has the world's worst wings...and I would like to recant a position I held years ago that boneless wings are for pussies. Boneless wings are easier to dip/eat and you're not always in the mood or position to pig out and build a small skyscraper out of used napkins.
Those are the "best of" my general thoughts on wings. The reason I really titled this wingin' it is because I have realized that one of my best and worst qualities as a person is my total abandonment of a game plan. For the past 2 weeks my family, friends and coworkers have been asking me when I plan on going home for the holidays. I of course have no idea, no ticket bought as of this exact moment. I've heard flights are getting scarce and the rates probably aren't dropping...but I'll figure it out, right? I mean this is the 21st century I could book a train to topeka Kansas, Greyhound it to St. Louis, take a short one way flight into Ohare and then hitchhike back to Indianapolis all through iPhone aps...except maybe the hitchhiking, scratch that just checked there are guides to Hitchhiking, a social media ap for hitchhikers and the ebook Hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy.
Needless to say, I'm not too worried. I think that is what people often find refreshing about me. I really don't worry about practical concerns the way others do. I never worry about how to get home for example. There is usually a cab, bus, couch or hostel within ear shot. Things generally work themselves out, and while this probably frustrates the shit out of anal type A personalities, I just find things a lot more exciting when you just kind of go with the flow. Many people have a fear of the great unknown, I tend to have more of a fear of routine...what could possibly be more terrifying that getting caught in the same rut for the end of time? Routine is for when you have kids and a wife and your life is pretty much over.
Do spur of the moment decisions make you uncomfortable and nervous? Well that's because you are a little bitch. Sure you may be a responsible, long-term goal seeking little bitch, but let's be honest winners think and live in the now. Fuck the past, it can't be changed...and the future, eh...it will still be there tomorrow. Go see Tom Cruise in Ghost Brotocol...do you think he is considering anything other than the now when he jumps off 211 story buildings and crashes through windows to fuck up the bad guys? Absolutely not.
(Sidenote: That movie totally redeemed Cruise, he can pray to any alien god he wants to...he's a fucking boss)
People may tire of my "seize the day" hedonistic "live in the now" message. I admit, I get tired of talking about how awesome it is to get drunk and do stupid shit (even though it is) and I usually use that as allegory to express how I feel about growing up and this whole "maturity" myth. I think a lot of people think they are better than you when they make a grocery list or stay in on a Friday night or adhere to a monthly budget.
Whatever, if that's your thing and it works for you, I'm not going to tell you that you are an uninteresting person. But if you are one of those people that shove your "signs of maturity" down someone's throat, you can go fuck yourself you sweltering cunt. Subway 8 times a week and living well above my means and cruising paycheck to paycheck works for me. It's possible that some may perceive my quality of life as excessive, I qualify it as exciting. I don't know where I will be a week, month or year from now, I have a cool exciting job and I live in the only place in the world where I can ski and surf in the same day.
..and I just booked a flight home...well not home per se. I booked a flight to Chicago (non-stop under $200, I told you booking far in advance is for the fucking birds) from there I'll probably do some light holiday shopping, check out the lights at Butch's, maybe go see my beloved Hawks and either ride home with another naptown transplant or God forbid take the Megabus.
Whatever...it'll work itself out.
Those are the "best of" my general thoughts on wings. The reason I really titled this wingin' it is because I have realized that one of my best and worst qualities as a person is my total abandonment of a game plan. For the past 2 weeks my family, friends and coworkers have been asking me when I plan on going home for the holidays. I of course have no idea, no ticket bought as of this exact moment. I've heard flights are getting scarce and the rates probably aren't dropping...but I'll figure it out, right? I mean this is the 21st century I could book a train to topeka Kansas, Greyhound it to St. Louis, take a short one way flight into Ohare and then hitchhike back to Indianapolis all through iPhone aps...except maybe the hitchhiking, scratch that just checked there are guides to Hitchhiking, a social media ap for hitchhikers and the ebook Hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy.
Needless to say, I'm not too worried. I think that is what people often find refreshing about me. I really don't worry about practical concerns the way others do. I never worry about how to get home for example. There is usually a cab, bus, couch or hostel within ear shot. Things generally work themselves out, and while this probably frustrates the shit out of anal type A personalities, I just find things a lot more exciting when you just kind of go with the flow. Many people have a fear of the great unknown, I tend to have more of a fear of routine...what could possibly be more terrifying that getting caught in the same rut for the end of time? Routine is for when you have kids and a wife and your life is pretty much over.
Do spur of the moment decisions make you uncomfortable and nervous? Well that's because you are a little bitch. Sure you may be a responsible, long-term goal seeking little bitch, but let's be honest winners think and live in the now. Fuck the past, it can't be changed...and the future, eh...it will still be there tomorrow. Go see Tom Cruise in Ghost Brotocol...do you think he is considering anything other than the now when he jumps off 211 story buildings and crashes through windows to fuck up the bad guys? Absolutely not.
(Sidenote: That movie totally redeemed Cruise, he can pray to any alien god he wants to...he's a fucking boss)
People may tire of my "seize the day" hedonistic "live in the now" message. I admit, I get tired of talking about how awesome it is to get drunk and do stupid shit (even though it is) and I usually use that as allegory to express how I feel about growing up and this whole "maturity" myth. I think a lot of people think they are better than you when they make a grocery list or stay in on a Friday night or adhere to a monthly budget.
Whatever, if that's your thing and it works for you, I'm not going to tell you that you are an uninteresting person. But if you are one of those people that shove your "signs of maturity" down someone's throat, you can go fuck yourself you sweltering cunt. Subway 8 times a week and living well above my means and cruising paycheck to paycheck works for me. It's possible that some may perceive my quality of life as excessive, I qualify it as exciting. I don't know where I will be a week, month or year from now, I have a cool exciting job and I live in the only place in the world where I can ski and surf in the same day.
..and I just booked a flight home...well not home per se. I booked a flight to Chicago (non-stop under $200, I told you booking far in advance is for the fucking birds) from there I'll probably do some light holiday shopping, check out the lights at Butch's, maybe go see my beloved Hawks and either ride home with another naptown transplant or God forbid take the Megabus.
Whatever...it'll work itself out.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Valet Mignon
If you have ever read this site before you know there are 2 things I hate more than anything in the world. Cab drivers and bathroom attendants. Bathroom attendants probably more so because they literally charge you a tax to use the bathroom. The last thing I want to do after depositing 5 pints down the urinal is either get the look of disgust from the smooth talking black man when I don't wash my hands or the utter look of despair if I actually allow him to pump soap into my hands and have the nerve to not tip him. Worse even are the aggressive attendants that let you know that they are not paid by the bar, they only keep their tips. (I'm looking at you Mickey's on Clark...you're a shithole, why even put up the facade of class)
My war with the taxi drivers is slightly different. I realize they provide a service, they stop people from driving drunk...yaya whatever, that's all fine and well but where do you get off charging someone $20 to go 3 miles. At that rate these guys are literally banking an attorney's hourly rate and they have the audacity to ask for a tip on top of it and get shitty with me when I try to pay with card because it's going to be taxed...all the while speaking jibberish to some homeboy in Saudi Arabia, laughing about all the cell phones that he is going to sell on ebay after his shift ends.
I have decided to induct a 3rd member into my 7th ring of hell thus completing the 3 headed monster of Brutus, Cassius and Judas Iscariot, with valet parkers.
Living in LA and Chicago for that matter parking is a bitch. But as an American and a believer in a free market economy and a scarcity of resources, I can get on board with paying for parking. Obviously if the sunset strip was loaded with tons of massive free parking lots instead of cool clubs and bars it wouldn't be as cool as it is, you pay a premium for the experience.
And while I would rather walk a mile to park for free or for a dollar at a meter...
/side note...when I was young my dad would always park literally miles away from the Pacer games when we would go. I remember cursing him in the 4 degree below weather as we walked from Market Square Arena to like 10th and Meridian, "You're so cheap, pay the $3 to park...I'll never be like you." Well, I get it now, it's a matter of principle.
Whatever, I'll pay for parking if I have to. I would prefer to park in a garage so I don't have to stop at a non-chase ATM and get fined $5 but even if I do...I'll get over it.
What I cannot get over is when I see a lovely little meter outside of the restaurant but some jackass has put up a valet sign, thus stealing a perfectly good parking spot, and now this motherfucker wants $20...are you kidding me? To drive my car across the street into that lot? How about I give you $10 and park it there myself..."Nope, valet only."
And this is an epidemic all over Los Angeles. Even restaurants with parking lots, or some parking garages, you'll pull up and they'll say, "hop right out sir, I've got it from here."
No, no thanks I'll park myself. "Well we are valet only sir!"
Like seriously what the fuck? Do these companies get some sort of tax credit by employing an army of 10 valet boys? I see a parking spot RIGHT FUCKING THERE. But I have to get out of my car, get a ticket, watch this jackass move my car 15 feet and then come out and give him a suggested $3 gratuity when he pulls my car around? I suggest you get a less laughable profession.
I never harbored all this ill will towards the valet profession. Hey, a nice night out with a girl, you want to impress her. Door to door service, that way she doesn't have to walk a 1 block trail of tears in those uncomfortable heels. Sure I get it. Maybe at a 5 star restaurant...but to check out the shoe section at Nordstrom on my lunch hour I have to fucking valet? No thanks boss.
Paying for parking is right up there with getting gas...it's an unforeseen expense that you really just kind of hate. It makes everyone in the car happy when you valet, because the driver obviously pays and then your friends don't have to walk. But I am literally taking a stand against these cum dumpsters from all walks of life FORCE a "service" upon me and then demand my generosity to reward them of such. It's a fucking scam, to generate more money...pinch the yuppies for everything they've got...because it's not enough anymore that we instinctively tip 25-30% on all restaurant and liquor bills, we better break off this parking attendant a little something extra.
But really, you're fucked either way, because the only alternative is to take a cab to the restaurant, thus employing another of the evil triumvirate...and you fucking know that this posh place is going to have a bathroom attendant...and if you drive and valet, there is a good chance that you will be overserved and forced to cab it home anyway and then claim your car in the morning...and if this ever happens I will spontaneously combust, but do not be surprised if I take down everyone else in the service industry with me in a murderous rage.
/End Rant
*Takes a deep breath*
I feel so much better.
My war with the taxi drivers is slightly different. I realize they provide a service, they stop people from driving drunk...yaya whatever, that's all fine and well but where do you get off charging someone $20 to go 3 miles. At that rate these guys are literally banking an attorney's hourly rate and they have the audacity to ask for a tip on top of it and get shitty with me when I try to pay with card because it's going to be taxed...all the while speaking jibberish to some homeboy in Saudi Arabia, laughing about all the cell phones that he is going to sell on ebay after his shift ends.
I have decided to induct a 3rd member into my 7th ring of hell thus completing the 3 headed monster of Brutus, Cassius and Judas Iscariot, with valet parkers.
Living in LA and Chicago for that matter parking is a bitch. But as an American and a believer in a free market economy and a scarcity of resources, I can get on board with paying for parking. Obviously if the sunset strip was loaded with tons of massive free parking lots instead of cool clubs and bars it wouldn't be as cool as it is, you pay a premium for the experience.
And while I would rather walk a mile to park for free or for a dollar at a meter...
/side note...when I was young my dad would always park literally miles away from the Pacer games when we would go. I remember cursing him in the 4 degree below weather as we walked from Market Square Arena to like 10th and Meridian, "You're so cheap, pay the $3 to park...I'll never be like you." Well, I get it now, it's a matter of principle.
Whatever, I'll pay for parking if I have to. I would prefer to park in a garage so I don't have to stop at a non-chase ATM and get fined $5 but even if I do...I'll get over it.
What I cannot get over is when I see a lovely little meter outside of the restaurant but some jackass has put up a valet sign, thus stealing a perfectly good parking spot, and now this motherfucker wants $20...are you kidding me? To drive my car across the street into that lot? How about I give you $10 and park it there myself..."Nope, valet only."
And this is an epidemic all over Los Angeles. Even restaurants with parking lots, or some parking garages, you'll pull up and they'll say, "hop right out sir, I've got it from here."
No, no thanks I'll park myself. "Well we are valet only sir!"
Like seriously what the fuck? Do these companies get some sort of tax credit by employing an army of 10 valet boys? I see a parking spot RIGHT FUCKING THERE. But I have to get out of my car, get a ticket, watch this jackass move my car 15 feet and then come out and give him a suggested $3 gratuity when he pulls my car around? I suggest you get a less laughable profession.
I never harbored all this ill will towards the valet profession. Hey, a nice night out with a girl, you want to impress her. Door to door service, that way she doesn't have to walk a 1 block trail of tears in those uncomfortable heels. Sure I get it. Maybe at a 5 star restaurant...but to check out the shoe section at Nordstrom on my lunch hour I have to fucking valet? No thanks boss.
Paying for parking is right up there with getting gas...it's an unforeseen expense that you really just kind of hate. It makes everyone in the car happy when you valet, because the driver obviously pays and then your friends don't have to walk. But I am literally taking a stand against these cum dumpsters from all walks of life FORCE a "service" upon me and then demand my generosity to reward them of such. It's a fucking scam, to generate more money...pinch the yuppies for everything they've got...because it's not enough anymore that we instinctively tip 25-30% on all restaurant and liquor bills, we better break off this parking attendant a little something extra.
But really, you're fucked either way, because the only alternative is to take a cab to the restaurant, thus employing another of the evil triumvirate...and you fucking know that this posh place is going to have a bathroom attendant...and if you drive and valet, there is a good chance that you will be overserved and forced to cab it home anyway and then claim your car in the morning...and if this ever happens I will spontaneously combust, but do not be surprised if I take down everyone else in the service industry with me in a murderous rage.
/End Rant
*Takes a deep breath*
I feel so much better.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Rageaholics
Ok before I get into the meat of this post I want to draw an interesting parallel if you will. When you think of rageaholic, you probably think of someone who is always pushing the limit when it comes to partying. They aren't satisfied to just get shitfaced. You can very calmly work yourself into an alcoholic coma...I'm talking loud music, dancing, jumping, screaming...This is how generation Y defines raging. Going to a concert, not sitting in the pavilion seats, rather opting for the lawn where people are drinking out of flasks and openly passing joints...then going to a bar, a late night bar, an after hours house party, and then finally calling it a night at sunrise. Rage.
Now let's take a look at Wikipedia and how they define a rageaholic:
A rageaholic or "anger addict" is a person who gets excited by expressing rage, or a person prone to extreme anger with little or no provocation.
An anger addict...really? Go on...
While "rageaholic" is not a formal medical diagnosis, it has been developed as a lay psychology term by counselors and anger-management groups seeking to help people who are chronically angry and who compulsively express fits of rage. There are also 12-step programs for dealing with rageaholics, such as Rageaholics Anonymous in Los Angeles, CA.
Ohhh a 12 step program...you don't say? There also appears to be some triggers, things you can do to curb or avoid raging...let's take a look at a few.
Rageahol: When people start drinking rageahol, they are throwing figurative gasoline on the fire of their anger.
I will hitherto refer to alcohol as only rageahol for the infinite future.
Cursing: This is not a moral point. When people stop using profanity, they stop fanning the fire of their anger.
People that aren't cursing clearly haven't indulged in enough rageahol.
Hero stories: When people recount angry events with themselves as the hero, they get to re-feel those powerful angry feelings, fueling the addiction and seeming to justify those actions. It is important to take responsibility for the anger, not glorify it.
When I recall stories of maneuvering myself out of precarious situations based on my binge drinking I always identify as the protagonist, apparently this is a problem.
Other triggers are pointing, yelling, angry driving, throwing things...I always though those were signs of a good time, but apparently not if you are a rageaholic.
I guess what I'm trying to say...is if you are trying to figure out how to have a rocking good time on a Saturday night, read the wikipedia article for rageaholism and do the opposite, also replace anger with alcohol (or rageahol).
It also seems that pretty much any affliction to which you suffer could follow that same list of triggers. Like these 3 for example...
Score the anger: This is all about judging yourself 1-10 on how angry (fucked up) you are
Stop speaking: Because clearly you can't drink and talk simultaneously.
Walk away: I use this often at parties, in a boring conversation...get yourself a drink.
I'm sure I could bastardize that entire list of triggers, but this was supposed to be a simple comparison, not an indictment on my generation. Then again, I think we are less angry...I mean you always hear about these old guys beating their wives and kids...I think the worst that happens among guys now is calling their girlfriend a stupid whore when they get caught cheating. (This is deserved) But I think the threat of domestic violence has significantly been curbed by social media. A guy can't casually assault his family anymore because they could always tweet: Husband drunk and threatening to beat me #help
Technology, preventing redneck crime one day at a time.
BUT ANYWAY...enough of the ranting about how no one is angry anymore because they are drunkenly having fun (and you would think we would be an angry generation, with no jobs a shit economy, and a world where Angus T Jones makes $300,000 an episode for 2.5 Men)
Let's talk about a real Rageaholic...BANE.
Last night I was stringing up some gallows in my bedroom because I had failed to acquire tickets to Watch the Throne for a third consecutive night. All I wanted was to hear an entire hour of "Ni99as in Paris" but no...the fact that I had $12.17 in my bank account and that I have no friends with thug appeal in LA, I simply read some Steig Larsson and watched reruns of Gossip Girl (quite the Juxtaposition when I am complaining about no one to go to a rap show with me.)
The saving grace was when someone sent me the Prologue for the Dark Knight Rises which will be playing before MI IV Imax showings this Friday. What a boss...seriously, the scene is like a mixture between the end of Air Force One, the hallway scene in Inception, with a little bit of Goldfinger. It's one of those situations where if I was diagnosed with 6 months to live right now, I would tell the Dr. "motherfucker it better be 7" because I must see this movie. It is going to be everything that is good about movies...and I can totally get past Tom Hardy's bisexuality in a way that I can never get on board with Kevin Spacey again because if you are that much of a badass and you want to put your cock up butts...more power to you.
I would post the link for you, but it's already been pulled...I am part of an elite network of nerds that allows me illegal access to things like this...and although I'm sure no one wants to see Tom Cruise's latest homage to Scientology, the movie does have a 100 on RT still and at 7 minutes, the DKR prologue might be worth your $20.
Until then my friends...confront your rageaholic triggers...and enjoy yourself a pint or two of rageahol this evening and try not to take it out on your two turtle doves. (Get it, it's the 2nd day of Christmas...OMG like where did that come from)
Now let's take a look at Wikipedia and how they define a rageaholic:
A rageaholic or "anger addict" is a person who gets excited by expressing rage, or a person prone to extreme anger with little or no provocation.
An anger addict...really? Go on...
While "rageaholic" is not a formal medical diagnosis, it has been developed as a lay psychology term by counselors and anger-management groups seeking to help people who are chronically angry and who compulsively express fits of rage. There are also 12-step programs for dealing with rageaholics, such as Rageaholics Anonymous in Los Angeles, CA.
Ohhh a 12 step program...you don't say? There also appears to be some triggers, things you can do to curb or avoid raging...let's take a look at a few.
Rageahol: When people start drinking rageahol, they are throwing figurative gasoline on the fire of their anger.
I will hitherto refer to alcohol as only rageahol for the infinite future.
Cursing: This is not a moral point. When people stop using profanity, they stop fanning the fire of their anger.
People that aren't cursing clearly haven't indulged in enough rageahol.
Hero stories: When people recount angry events with themselves as the hero, they get to re-feel those powerful angry feelings, fueling the addiction and seeming to justify those actions. It is important to take responsibility for the anger, not glorify it.
When I recall stories of maneuvering myself out of precarious situations based on my binge drinking I always identify as the protagonist, apparently this is a problem.
Other triggers are pointing, yelling, angry driving, throwing things...I always though those were signs of a good time, but apparently not if you are a rageaholic.
I guess what I'm trying to say...is if you are trying to figure out how to have a rocking good time on a Saturday night, read the wikipedia article for rageaholism and do the opposite, also replace anger with alcohol (or rageahol).
It also seems that pretty much any affliction to which you suffer could follow that same list of triggers. Like these 3 for example...
Score the anger: This is all about judging yourself 1-10 on how angry (fucked up) you are
Stop speaking: Because clearly you can't drink and talk simultaneously.
Walk away: I use this often at parties, in a boring conversation...get yourself a drink.
I'm sure I could bastardize that entire list of triggers, but this was supposed to be a simple comparison, not an indictment on my generation. Then again, I think we are less angry...I mean you always hear about these old guys beating their wives and kids...I think the worst that happens among guys now is calling their girlfriend a stupid whore when they get caught cheating. (This is deserved) But I think the threat of domestic violence has significantly been curbed by social media. A guy can't casually assault his family anymore because they could always tweet: Husband drunk and threatening to beat me #help
Technology, preventing redneck crime one day at a time.
BUT ANYWAY...enough of the ranting about how no one is angry anymore because they are drunkenly having fun (and you would think we would be an angry generation, with no jobs a shit economy, and a world where Angus T Jones makes $300,000 an episode for 2.5 Men)
Let's talk about a real Rageaholic...BANE.
Last night I was stringing up some gallows in my bedroom because I had failed to acquire tickets to Watch the Throne for a third consecutive night. All I wanted was to hear an entire hour of "Ni99as in Paris" but no...the fact that I had $12.17 in my bank account and that I have no friends with thug appeal in LA, I simply read some Steig Larsson and watched reruns of Gossip Girl (quite the Juxtaposition when I am complaining about no one to go to a rap show with me.)
The saving grace was when someone sent me the Prologue for the Dark Knight Rises which will be playing before MI IV Imax showings this Friday. What a boss...seriously, the scene is like a mixture between the end of Air Force One, the hallway scene in Inception, with a little bit of Goldfinger. It's one of those situations where if I was diagnosed with 6 months to live right now, I would tell the Dr. "motherfucker it better be 7" because I must see this movie. It is going to be everything that is good about movies...and I can totally get past Tom Hardy's bisexuality in a way that I can never get on board with Kevin Spacey again because if you are that much of a badass and you want to put your cock up butts...more power to you.
I would post the link for you, but it's already been pulled...I am part of an elite network of nerds that allows me illegal access to things like this...and although I'm sure no one wants to see Tom Cruise's latest homage to Scientology, the movie does have a 100 on RT still and at 7 minutes, the DKR prologue might be worth your $20.
Until then my friends...confront your rageaholic triggers...and enjoy yourself a pint or two of rageahol this evening and try not to take it out on your two turtle doves. (Get it, it's the 2nd day of Christmas...OMG like where did that come from)
Monday, December 12, 2011
New Year's Eve
Everyone who knows me well can attest to the fact that I am a huge romantic comedy fan. So it won't surprise you that when my boy Zac Efron of High School Musical fame and the vastly underrated 17 Again (not the version they show on BET with the chicks from Sister, Sister) I would be pumped for its arrival. I am probably in the minority that really liked Valentine's Day, I'm easy, get a bunch of attractive people to fall in love and I am 100% on board. Reality be damned, I watch movies to escape! Unfortunately, I haven't established a strong network of platonic chick friends to drag on these seemingly "gay friend dates." So this will not be a review of the most anticipated rom-com of the year (yes I know it sits at 8% on the tomatometer, but these guys are all economy conscious and shit..."save your money" did you really have better plans for that $13? Were you going to save it, invest it in your 401k? Oh, you were actually going to buy the holiday special edition bottle of Svedka for $12.99 on special at CVS...I stand corrected) instead, I decided to put together a list of the top 10 things you should plan on doing for New Year's.
Now if you are sitting around thinking, "New Year's is amateur night, blah blah blah what separates it from any other Saturday night." Go fuck yourself. New Year's is great. Because even if you were going to go out anyway, now everyone else is and people have no problem getting dressed to the nines and blacking out and making terrible life choices. And most of these decisions will be forgiven because New Year's is an excuse. It force your job to give you a day or two off and the collective society to say "fuck it" and spend a ton of money on frivolity.
In the past I have had epic New Year's where I have ski'd away from a bomb threat, raged at a David Lee Roth concert at City Walk Orlando and even texted a friend "hey, would you be mad if I hooked up with your ex-girlfriend?" It's really all about the story. So without further ado, the top 10 ways to spend your last few hours of 2011.
10. College Bowl Game
For the past 12 or so years my dad took us to Florida anytime Iowa would earn a New Years day bowl birth. In that time period I went to games in Miami, Orlando, Tampa and Fort Meyers. I didn't go to the Insight bowl when IU went in 2007 but I wish I would have. College Bowls, especially when they are in exotic locations are the fucking tits. The game notwithstanding, these trips turn into miniature spring breaks. Keep in mind, the college kids get 3 weeks off so you better believe they will be in Miami days in advance raging for the Orange Bowl. I was always at an awkward age and with my parents on these trips so my participation in the party was always limited, but I could see the people 4 and 5 years my senior, and they were having the times of their life. Also, you can't beat the college style road trip.
9. Hotel Party
Hotels have always fascinated me. Even when staying at a hotel in your home town, being in one adds a legitimacy to your vacation. I have always associated hotels with positive experiences, be it playing knee hockey in the halls with my travel baseball team or getting fucked up with a strange group of 8 people circa the age of 17. Now hotel parties are vastly different. You get a room a couple rooms at the Hilton, pregame hard with a close knit group of friends, go downstairs to a banquet hall wearing expensive suits and listen to Pitbull or some shit for a couple hours. If you meet anyone downstairs, you can slip them your room key, or go up during the middle of the party for a variety of reasons, and unlike bars, your hotel room has no specific closing time...it's funny that the one constant over the past 20 years is the fear of noise complaints.
8. All you can drink at a bar
I know everyone talks shit about this. Some marginal acquaintance of yours sends out some 1000 person email blast inviting you to the "PARTY OF THE CENTURY." And even though it always fails to live up to the hype, whatever, that's where everyone is going to go...and you may not think you will get your money's worth on $150 VIP wristband, but I'm pretty sure I've mastered this. Engage one member of the opposite sex extremely early in the night and just commit to not leaving the bar for 2 hours. There'll be plenty of time to dance and do the rounds later, plus no one decides who they are going to kiss until like 11:30 so those hours from 8-10 are for you and your BAC...make sure to bring like $30 in singles to tip a buck a drink (if you have leftover singles and you fail to convert on a chick I think you could still salvage the evening at a sleazy gentlemen's club) and you may want to look into some sort of party bus, it's impossible to get a cab on NYE.
7. Ski Trip
If you can work a vacation into your New Year's plans ALWAYS DO IT. Do you know how much cooler going to some random bar in Aspen on New Years is after hitting the slopes for a week compared to getting off work at 3 and just heading downtown? Skiing (or boarding) is awesome. Ski towns are amazing. Girls that ski are awesome. By the transitive property or something like that, this is a winning proposal. And if you think "why would I go to some quiet ski town for New Year's? Won't it be all families?" You couldn't be more wrong, after the last lift stops, ski towns rage harder than most college campuses. Probably the best New Year's I ever had took place on a ski trip with 4 buds (and also involved 5 banks, disgruntled locals multiple bombs and an eventual murder/suicide, this is the movie New Years Eve would have been with Michael Bay directing) I'm trying to do it again this year...this should probably have a better ranking on the list.
6. Family Trip
I know, it sounds relatively weak, but let's look at a few contributing factors. Your parents are most likely wealthier than you. Not only are they paying for the trip, they are probably going to take you somewhere badass. Europe? Central/South America? Go. It will be awesome. You're probably sick of the shit weather and that is something you and your parents have in common, they are probably going to take you somewhere hot with sand and water. I just went to Italy with my parents, it kicked ass. Hopefully you have a similarly aged sibling to be your partner in crime, if not, I know from experience many an alliance are formed in the hot tub. You're a single 24 year old in the Bahamas looking to bang chicks? There is probably a like minded dude plotting the same thing in the hot tub (or maybe a hot chick that wants to get away from her parents for a few hours) Regardless, you are not the only one on vacation with their parents, you just need to round up a crowd and get into some misadventure, try to get your own room...the non-adjoining type.
5. House Party
Thus far my suggestions haven't necessarily been cheap. And although my ranting on this site often makes me sound like some strange fiscal conservative/social anarchist (I think they are calling that a Libertarian these days) I assure you monetarily speaking I currently identify much more with the 99%, so I understand that you may not have a few g's to blow for some "overrated invented holiday." Alas, if you have $15 and some clean clothes, you can still have a blast. I was for a long time staunchly against the house party. It just takes everything special away from the evening. You can put on nice clothes and drink champagne any other night of the year, but with a little effort and an open mind it can be so much more than that. No competing with 100 other meat sticks for drinks and/or the girl you want to bang. No last call. In fact, in my experience the people at a house party almost always get the rowdiest...there's no rules, there's no loud music you have to scream over...just lots and lots of shots, and fierce competition for the best beds come 4 am.
4. Concert
Not into the whole getting dressed up and doing the all you can drink thing? Are you more of a EDM and MDMA kinda person? Whatever floats your boat. I see this as a perfect last minute kinda thing. I always hold out and end up scrambling for tickets at double the value on Craigslist at like 4pm on the 31st. When I could just go start pregaming in Wicker Park at 6pm and go see a Pretty Lights show at the Congress that goes until 4am...you could probably get a cab by that point.
3. International Travel
There is an eventual limit to what will happen domestically on New Year's. Inevitably, no matter how crazy your night, you will eventually pass out or die. But if you really wanted to take it to the next level, you would have to leave our friendly borders. Because as crazy as your buddy's story about getting domed up by a tranny in Miami might sound, I can't even begin to fathom the debauchery that goes down in Ibiza or Rio.
2. New York
Almost obligatory to be put on the list. New York is New Year's Eve. And even though NYC doesn't experience the new year first, or it may experience it hours before your time zone does...when the ball drops the new year has happened. (Living in Chicago I always found it so anti-climatic when the ball dropped in New Years and they showed the crazy Times Square footage and having to remind myself, oh wait we still have one more hour, I can't even imagine what it will feel like when the ball drops this year and I'm still getting dressed in Cali) But aside from the madness on the streets (I have heard it compared to New Orleans Mardi Gras...which was a runner-up on the list) every fucking club, warehouse and secret pop-up shop are doing something of monstrous proportions. You see those reaves on tv and wonder...where does that shit actually happen? NYE in New York.
1. Vegas
Shouldn't the day of the year where we are most excessive be spent in the world's capitol of excess? Look, Vegas is always going to be insane. And I understand the argument that your Vegas experience would be nearly the same on any of the other 364 days of the year. But I refuse to believe, that one could go to Vegas on New Year's and not have some sort of weirdness that would cause a life altering experience. You would probably blow your entire net worth on hookers, drugs, gambling and booze. But hey, it's all about the story right? And whether your story is making the next Kardashian sex tape in the bathroom at XS or accidentally murdering an annoying pimp during a bad shroom trip, the next day is a new year and all sins are forgiven. That's what the lyrics of Auld Lang Syne say right? Well the 1st is a Sunday, so maybe you go to mass just to be sure about that whole soul cleansing thing.
There you have it! Something for everyone. So as you prepare for the holiday vacation season, don't forget to keep your tolerance up, you don't want to be the person that passes out before midnight...I've heard that it's a bad omen that you won't make it to the end of 2012 either.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
The Sauce Nazi
Quick story time. Over the weekend some stranger somehow ended up with one of my phones (I still have two hence the 317/310 thing) After furiously trying to track it down on Sunday to no avail I finally got a call last night. If you want to see your phone again meet me at McDonald's on Avenue K in Lancaster, CA. Long story short, Lancaster is a town in the middle of the desert, driving out to this remote McD's in the middle of the night reminded me of the movie Casino. I honestly thought that a Joe Pesci type was going to walk in to the McDonalds and shank me and that the medical examiner would find me dead with a half-eaten double cheeseburger in hand. What a way to go. Needless to say, after waiting for this guy 3 hours to "take the bus" to my location he arrived with my phone. He had suspiciously wiped its memory, so I hope my phone won't later be implicated in some sort of gang related activity. Moral of the story, hold onto your damn phone. I honestly need a case that will surgically attach it to my body, it's getting to be a tad ridiculous.
The most disturbing part of the evening though may have been that the person behind the McDonald's counter would only give me one packet of buffalo sauce. Clearly that isn't enough for my fries and Dbl Cheese. But out of principal I refuse to pay 30 cents for an extra.
I have been encountering this scenario all over the place lately. The worst is the taco bell drive thru. Clearly, a minimum of 3 fire sauces is required per taco. Possibly 4 on a burrito/quesadilla and no less than 2 on a chicken flatbread. So if my order is 2 soft tacos, a chicken flatbread and a steak quesadilla...I need 12 packets of fire sauce minimum. I realize my demands may be a tad high so I say "I need a shit ton of fire sauce" not a bunch, not a lot...A SHIT TON. Needless to say when I am underwhelmed with 5 packets I am furious. Because then I have to park the car go in, and take 20 more just to prove my point.
Look, I get it. Fast food chains are trying to cut back, but honestly is sauce consumption really knocking you down, maybe McDonald's can cut back on labor costs. It always seems like there are 8 retards in there just standing around. Or maybe cut back on your obnoxious marketing budget, the I'm loving it campaign is just poor. And people really aren't that excited when the McRib comes back it's fucking miserable. What does bother me is when I say I would like 2 buffalo sauces and a ranch at the window (after I've paid...this is an obviously blatant strategy, are they really going to ask to run my card again?) But they fucking do! No I don't have 37 cents! Who carries cash? You know who carries cash? Homeless people and drug dealers. And you just wait, they will both be accepting square payment soon enough. WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CUSTOMER IS ALWAYS RIGHT?
But the fast food restaurant that has taken it too far is the new Hollywood Chik Fil A. They literally employ someone to distribute sauce to you after you have placed and picked up your order. You walk to this person and make your initial sauce request and then they ask you what you ordered, and make a counter-offer of sauces they will provide you. At this point you have to make your most aggressive sales pitch for sauce, mine usually goes like this:
"I got 12 nuggets and a large fry, I realize that 4 buffalo, 2 ranch and a chick fil a sauce may sound excessive. But I assure you, no sauce packet will see more than a 2 nugget life span, the rest will be used for my fries. I will not waste any of it, I will consume them all and enjoy. What I need you to do, is give me as many sauces as you can give me without losing your job."
Usually after that intense soliloquy she caves into my demands...but really it shouldn't be that hard...and don't even get me started on those meager fucking ketchup packets...one of them is not even enough for an entire french fry. What happened to the land of excess? I would expect this bullshit from Europe, but really? I thought this was America.
Friday, December 2, 2011
The People's Champ
Today was one of those days that I was sitting around eating a triple mandarin chicken plate from the Panda Express in a USC cafeteria and my mind wandered back to the days of yore in Gresham.
Quick side note: How miserable must it have been to not be northwest quad as a Freshman at IU. Unless you got lucky and knew someone in a good house you were doomed to obscurity. I mean seriously didn't you do your research? Didn't your mother call ahead and say "my white daughter from the suburbs wants a chance at social relevance, where should she live?" And don't give me that bullshit about "random" housing assortments. Anyone with a core 40 high school degree could have manipulated the Freshman Interest Group/Living Learning Community thing. Here is our shared interest, we want to rage with the attractive people who will end up in the Greek system, not the fine arts students that will inevitably move to the dreaded east side...god, did you ever go to a house party at like 7th and Union? That is where dreams go to die. All this said, the other quads did have far superior food. But Taco John's was my jam, so I got over it. /End rant.
Anyway, while thinking back to 2006, I caught myself thinking, "What the fuck happened to the lyrical prodigy Paul Wall? Or Mike Jones for that matter?" I mean who can forget the classic lyric "Call Me George Foreman, cuz I'm selling errybody grillz." Truly one for the ages.
As you would probably imagine, neither of them have done shit in the past 5 years. Except Paul Wall became morbidly obese briefly before undergoing gastric bypass surgery. I'm fairly ready to say that he is no longer the people's champ.
With Paul Wall fat and irrelevant, Dwayne Johnson busy starring in Disney movies, the title is seemingly up for grabs. What makes one a people's champ? I always assimilated it with someone that can relate to an "average Joe" aka a middle-lower class factory worker. A bunch of politicians always try to claim to be a man of the people, but they are not. They are trust fund babies that served in the military in non-combat zones and then went to the law school of their choice. I am not a man of the people, I have a very niche audience, and even that crowd doesn't agree with half the shit I say. My popularity probably has a very high absolute value though. (In case you are retarded, absolute value is distance from 0 thus I am calling myself polarizing)
But last night, the answer came to me, well it came to my friend who told me. I was at the Music Box in Hollywood and I saw a drunken USC student wearing probably a $1000 outfit just several feet from a migrant worker who hadn't even removed his steel toed boots after a long day of working illegal construction after being picked up across the street from a Home Depot (I realize this is a hasty generalization and it's completely plausible that he was a legal resident that had been doing yard work all day and hadn't had time to change) But next I saw something beautiful. The Mexican dude that was doing this very violent dance that involved a lot of intense stomping and spinning (literally I could feel whenever he came within 30 feet of me because of the vibrations) started dancing with this white girl of privilege. Then some senoritas hopped in and the frat guys in their cut off tanks joined in and there was: a socio-economic melting pot of dance. There were idiots at this rave wearing dead animals felts for hats (this is the next big thing, treacherous, but I assure you it's coming) guidos popping bottles, 14 year olds trying to bribe adults for beers, blacks whites, yellows...all there for one reason, get fucked up and have a good time.
We aren't so different at the end of the day. Some people may care more about possessions or status or what have you, but we all really have one goal...have fun and maybe take a member of the opposite (or same) sex home. Many people used to say music was that great force that brought everyone together, but some music has undertones and is political, not every genre works for everyone. I would love to argue that alcohol is the great unifying force, blue collar, white collar, no collar people just letting loose after a shitty week. But some people don't drink and whatever, it's your life, be boring if you so chose. But the one thing that has brought people together since the beginning of time, whether it be for cultural celebrations or just as an expression of joy is dance. Try watching the "Beautiful People" video without wanting to go party with 100,000 strangers. You may look like an idiot in doing so, but so does everyone else. So let's raise a glass to dancing, maybe not the new people's champ, but the one force that no one is above. Go cut a rug tonight.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Last Chance Saloon
Isn't it bizarre that roughly 1 out of every 12 days of your life is in December? December is and always will be one of the greatest month. Perhaps that is because I always associated December with kick ass Holidays like Christmas and New Year's, ski trips, a lack of school..and ya it's cold (most places) but it's the exciting new cold. Not that bullshit cold from February that makes you homicidal. All the malls are pretty, Christmas music is everywhere, College bball is heating up and the playoff races are beginning to develop in the NFL. Also Jingle all the Way is played at least twice a week on USA for the entire month.
There should be a name for the period of time between Thanksgiving and January 3rd. Most people are pretty much checked out this entire period. Ya if you are a student you are cramming in a formal or two in between all nighters that usually just end up with you saying "fuck it" at midnight and going to the bar. Or going to some girls room to study and the sexual tension eventually boils over at 3am when she pops a bottle of wine for a study break and you end up sleeping in and are 30 minutes late for your final...ya we've all been there.
In the real world, most of the higher ups are taking vacations, so in between the 6 hours of light you receive during the week, there isn't a whole lot going on. Maybe some shopping, or some Love Actually marathons, not a lot of people going out on a Wednesday night to check out the Christmas lights at Butch McGuires...
But with this laziness comes something magical...the Holiday themed drinking events! See my friends, I'm not the first person to advocate drinking through the treacherous weather. I'm not the first person to suggest that adding some spice to the month of December is not just an extra pump in your eggnog lattee at Starbucks. However, in case some of you have forgotten your inner frat guy (Think of the movie The Santa Claus when the dude from Beverly Hills cop finally got his Oscar Meyer wiener whistle, and he remembers his inner child...it's like that but with booze) here is a list of Holiday themed drinking fun.
1. Secret Santa
What you remember: Exchanging random gifts with schoolmates, youth group friends, coworkers.
How to make it fun: Remember when you would bring a really kick-ass gift to the party (like the hot new Nerf gun that year) and then you ended up with something shitty like Lincoln logs. Ya, I remember that too. Now what if every gift had to be a fifth of alcohol? Sure, someone will end up with Jager and someone will end up with 75 South, my experience is that both will get you quite intoxicated and most of these events will lead to sharing, because it's not like everyone takes their toys and goes home. They rip open the wrapping paper and then start ripping shots almost just as quickly...and if you want to bring this year's hot new Nerf gun to add chaos to the situation I award bonus points.
2. Caroling
What you remember: Probably going around in a church group knocking on the doors of strangers and occasionally being invited inside for some hot cider.
How to make it fun: Why not go caroling immediately after your Secret Santa, what's better than getting hammered with your friends and singing to strangers and then demanding to be brought inside and awarded some sort of compensation. Although, I would say that there probably won't be enough eggnog to go around if you are in a large enough group.
3. Holiday dress up
What you remember: Perhaps going to class or work in a cute Christmas sweater your grandmother knitted you.
How to make it fun: Aside from the obvious awkward Christmas sweater party which you will undoubtedly be invited to (x5) the best way to celebrate the holidays by dressing like a deranged elf is a Christmas themed bar crawl. You are all probably familiar with TBOX in Chicago. SOme of my fondest memories of the windy city have come when it was 12 degrees out and I was staggering around Wrigleyville in a onesie dowsing strangers with breakfast serial. Honestly TBOX deserves its own post but I don't live in Chicago anymore. That said, I can almost guarantee you, that every moderate sized city has at least one bar promoter who has thrown something together. Dressing up like an idiot is fun, drinking is fun, adding these together is the best mashup since the ice cream sandwich.
4. Quality time at home
What you remember: Sitting by a fireplace watching Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer and getting bitched at your parents to shovel the driveway.
How to make it fun: I always use the, "I don't live here anymore, shovel your own driveway" excuse to mixed results. But what you may not have stumbled upon yet, is that all the great childhood activities: snowball fights, sledding, building snowmen...still fun. Even better hammered. And don't start to think that you are an alcoholic because you use light substance abuse to enhance every day activities. You are on vacation, and vacation is about enjoying yourself
5. Everything else
The holidays fucking rock. Putting up the tree, making a fire, figuring out your own eggnog recipes, playing hockey on the pond. It' tough to be in a bad mood in December, even if all you can see for miles is gray. Most of the bars are decorated in cheerful fashion and Mariah Carey's timeless classic "All I want for Christmas is You" plays on repeat. It really is the most wonderful time of the year. Even in Los Angeles where it is 70 degrees out today, I feel the holiday spirit in the air. We have this joyous season to take us to early January, when shit really hits the fan and there truly isn't anything to look forward to outside of an occasional ski trip until March. I suggest many vacations during that time frame, but fuck the future...live in the present.
Many people stress about the coming of a new year. Oh my god, I need to lose weight, stop smoking, get in shape, get a promotion and be married next year. Well that shit can be taken care of in 2012, I assure you, if you haven't accomplished that yet in 2011, it's not happening. So dive right in, and enjoy yourself these last 31 days. Don't let the holidays cause you anxiety, instead put on your most hideous ensemble of knits and corduroy on and enjoy yourself because tis the season to be merry.
There should be a name for the period of time between Thanksgiving and January 3rd. Most people are pretty much checked out this entire period. Ya if you are a student you are cramming in a formal or two in between all nighters that usually just end up with you saying "fuck it" at midnight and going to the bar. Or going to some girls room to study and the sexual tension eventually boils over at 3am when she pops a bottle of wine for a study break and you end up sleeping in and are 30 minutes late for your final...ya we've all been there.
In the real world, most of the higher ups are taking vacations, so in between the 6 hours of light you receive during the week, there isn't a whole lot going on. Maybe some shopping, or some Love Actually marathons, not a lot of people going out on a Wednesday night to check out the Christmas lights at Butch McGuires...
But with this laziness comes something magical...the Holiday themed drinking events! See my friends, I'm not the first person to advocate drinking through the treacherous weather. I'm not the first person to suggest that adding some spice to the month of December is not just an extra pump in your eggnog lattee at Starbucks. However, in case some of you have forgotten your inner frat guy (Think of the movie The Santa Claus when the dude from Beverly Hills cop finally got his Oscar Meyer wiener whistle, and he remembers his inner child...it's like that but with booze) here is a list of Holiday themed drinking fun.
1. Secret Santa
What you remember: Exchanging random gifts with schoolmates, youth group friends, coworkers.
How to make it fun: Remember when you would bring a really kick-ass gift to the party (like the hot new Nerf gun that year) and then you ended up with something shitty like Lincoln logs. Ya, I remember that too. Now what if every gift had to be a fifth of alcohol? Sure, someone will end up with Jager and someone will end up with 75 South, my experience is that both will get you quite intoxicated and most of these events will lead to sharing, because it's not like everyone takes their toys and goes home. They rip open the wrapping paper and then start ripping shots almost just as quickly...and if you want to bring this year's hot new Nerf gun to add chaos to the situation I award bonus points.
2. Caroling
What you remember: Probably going around in a church group knocking on the doors of strangers and occasionally being invited inside for some hot cider.
How to make it fun: Why not go caroling immediately after your Secret Santa, what's better than getting hammered with your friends and singing to strangers and then demanding to be brought inside and awarded some sort of compensation. Although, I would say that there probably won't be enough eggnog to go around if you are in a large enough group.
3. Holiday dress up
What you remember: Perhaps going to class or work in a cute Christmas sweater your grandmother knitted you.
How to make it fun: Aside from the obvious awkward Christmas sweater party which you will undoubtedly be invited to (x5) the best way to celebrate the holidays by dressing like a deranged elf is a Christmas themed bar crawl. You are all probably familiar with TBOX in Chicago. SOme of my fondest memories of the windy city have come when it was 12 degrees out and I was staggering around Wrigleyville in a onesie dowsing strangers with breakfast serial. Honestly TBOX deserves its own post but I don't live in Chicago anymore. That said, I can almost guarantee you, that every moderate sized city has at least one bar promoter who has thrown something together. Dressing up like an idiot is fun, drinking is fun, adding these together is the best mashup since the ice cream sandwich.
4. Quality time at home
What you remember: Sitting by a fireplace watching Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer and getting bitched at your parents to shovel the driveway.
How to make it fun: I always use the, "I don't live here anymore, shovel your own driveway" excuse to mixed results. But what you may not have stumbled upon yet, is that all the great childhood activities: snowball fights, sledding, building snowmen...still fun. Even better hammered. And don't start to think that you are an alcoholic because you use light substance abuse to enhance every day activities. You are on vacation, and vacation is about enjoying yourself
5. Everything else
The holidays fucking rock. Putting up the tree, making a fire, figuring out your own eggnog recipes, playing hockey on the pond. It' tough to be in a bad mood in December, even if all you can see for miles is gray. Most of the bars are decorated in cheerful fashion and Mariah Carey's timeless classic "All I want for Christmas is You" plays on repeat. It really is the most wonderful time of the year. Even in Los Angeles where it is 70 degrees out today, I feel the holiday spirit in the air. We have this joyous season to take us to early January, when shit really hits the fan and there truly isn't anything to look forward to outside of an occasional ski trip until March. I suggest many vacations during that time frame, but fuck the future...live in the present.
Many people stress about the coming of a new year. Oh my god, I need to lose weight, stop smoking, get in shape, get a promotion and be married next year. Well that shit can be taken care of in 2012, I assure you, if you haven't accomplished that yet in 2011, it's not happening. So dive right in, and enjoy yourself these last 31 days. Don't let the holidays cause you anxiety, instead put on your most hideous ensemble of knits and corduroy on and enjoy yourself because tis the season to be merry.
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