Monday got here just too damn fast for most of us, and while I can appreciate all those out there who are driven to work, slave, succeed or what have you, my drive lies in finding better ways to enjoy time with the amigos, family and assorted nutjobs that make up the cast in this production out here. Or, you could just call me lazy. A truly badass float on the Bryant Creek assured us that good times were had by all on Saturday. But, like all good things, it couldn’t last, and as I cry into my last Pacifico left over from the weekend, here’s your Raising of the Pint Glass and Karate Chop to the Throat for this week. ps ~ don’t forget to check the bottom for the Half Past Friday survey question, and, as ever, drop your answers off at firstname.lastname@example.org. Here’s to layin’ low and sippin’ slow in this heat!
Raising of the Pint Glass:
- Float trips – when the heat and the humidity get to the point that I might consider living in Compton a “good alternative”, there’s nothing better than a float trip to get my mind right. Good times on a river with friends, cervezas and debauchery are just what the Doctor ordered. Score one for Missouri
- Billy Mays – this foolio could sell ketchup Popsicles to women in white gloves, and better yet, convince them that they really, really needed them. I admired his spastic enthusiasm greatly. I never bought a thing, but you can bet that it crossed my mind a time or two. Who knows, they might need a cucumber-slicer-toiletbowl- repair-putty-shoe-organizer thingamabob up in Heaven. RIP, you silly bearded bastard.
- The Beer Tour – there’s a pizza joint here called Old Chicago Pizza, and they are offering a “beer tour” in which you sample 110 different brews for prizes and glory along the way. What an awesome concept. I immediately signed myself and three friends up for it; I hope you can join us at some point. We’re thinking of calling the whole concept “Church”. This way we can all say we went to Church this week. Works for me.
Karate Chop to the Throat:
- The jive turkeys who still let their kids ride around with no seatbelts on. Don’t give me any of your bullshit about “personal choice”; work enough car wrecks where there was unnecessary loss of life due this idiotic choice, and all of the sudden you learn a little thing called “perspective”. Idiots.
- The Michael Jackson Media Machine – why oh why do we need helicopters circling the hospital where the creepy-ass mofo was hauled off to? Do you think the doctors are gonna wheel out his corpse, shout a bunch of hoodoo voodoo and then set a flaming torch to the gurney? It is a sad day, indeed, when the passing of a talented child molester dominates the ENTIRE news cycle while we’ve got people dying on a daily basis in our armed forces. CHOP TO THE THROAT!
- Dale Earnhardt wife beater tee shirts-I hate ’em: the attitude they convey, the Whiskey Tango lifestyle they “represent”, all that. No rational reason. I just do.
Half Past Friday Survey Question for July 3:
There is not a one of us out there who has not mangled the lyrics to our favorite song, convinced that we got it right. Tell me the song whose words you unknowingly butchered, singing out at the top of your lungs, time and again. Mine? Easy enough: up until I was around 3o, I just knew that the lyrics to Pink Floyd’s Another Brick In The Wall” went something like this: “The dogs of Hazard / In the classroom” when in actuality it is “No dark sarcasm / In the classroom”. Worse fact? In a drunken stupor, I am sure that I may have forcibly thrown those lyrics down in some sort of karaoke fiasco. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. Send your worst to email@example.com