Vroooooooooom!!!!!!

On memorial day weekend, Beefsteak Charlie and I both attended the greatest spectical in racing, the Indy 500.  I've been wanting to write about this weekend for a while now, but haven't really known where to start.  Short update on the race is we camped in the back of an SUV, drank warm Miller lite for 24 hours, drank straight bourbon from the bottle, and ate White Castle for breakfast.  We saw cars go really fast and probably more fist fights than at a high school kegger.  Beefsteak Charlie I'm sure met the love of his life in one of the bathrooms wearing an autographed Helio shirt.  

For a full update on the race, and something I had taken the time to author, I suggest this article.

The Game of Deathball

I write this post to ensure that you are all made aware of the new sinister trend that is currently sweeping through the Midwest like wildfire. I'm not talking about ugg boots*, swine flu, enormous man-sunglasses, or any other such un-American bullshit...I am referring, of course, to the new drinking game called Deathball. States that have been infiltrated include Missouri, Illinois, Ohio, and, most recently, Tennessee. This post will inform you of the ins and outs of the game so that you will be prepared in the event that there is a Deathball sighting in your area.

Deathball has a simple gameplay and configuration; it can be set up at most residences, whether they be an apartment, Mc-mansion, or cardboard box. What follows is a list of items needed to complete a beer-soaked evening that you will most likely need to piece together the next day with the help of your equally retarded friends:

1 table, preferably 8x4
2 ping pong balls
4 pint glasses (must be glass, no solo cups)
6 ounces courage
1 pair of drinking shoes
4 players
1 midget**

The pint glasses are each filled with one (1) full beer and placed at each corner of the table. A "chuggable" brew is highly recommended - think one of the Big Three light beers***. Two (2) people stand on each end near their respective glasses. The object is to completely drain your beers before the other team, subjecting the losers to all the shame and humiliation that goes hand-in-hand with losing a drinking game. There is certainly no second place in Deathball.

Balls are thrown one at a time with the intent not to land in the cup, but rather to make contact with the glass and bounce off the table. If the cup is missed, your turn is over. Throw with the idea to make it difficult for the other team to retrieve the ball, whether it be with a sweet ricochet or a lucky bounce under a nearby object. Your partner begins chugging his beer until the other team successfully tracks down the ball and returns it to the table. Once the ball is settled back on the playing surface, the drinking immediately ceases and the turn passes to your partner. He throws, you drink, the ball is returned, then the other team gets their shot. Play continues until one team has emptied both of their glasses.

When people describe most drinking games, the phrase "everyone wins" is often mentioned. While there may be a grain of truth to this cliche, it is still a stupid saying. Drinking games frequently go awry for many reasons -- people stop paying attention, fail to realize it's their turn, forget the rules, etc. With Deathball, however, there is simply no room for such douchebaggery. Here is a quick list of why Deathball is such a great drinking game:

-Matches are quick and intense; no long, drawn out I-hit-one-cup-every-seven-minutes beer pong type of wait
-The rules are so simple that even people from Kentucky**** will understand them
-People will fall down and/or get hurt, which is always funny
-If you go on a winning streak, you will black out, and set yourself up on a collision course with White Castle at 3 a.m.

So to sum up, if you are bumming around on a Friday night and feel like playing a game that will effectively separate you from your sobriety, sense of pride in oneself, and possibly one of your shoes, give Deathball a try. Introduce it to all of your friends, so that it may continue to spread throughout this great land.



*Ladies, you look goddamn ridiculous.
**Optional (celebratory dwarf tossing is recommended after a particularly big win)
***Fighthouse should be probably be avoided
****Former state motto: "Where Education Pays." Seriously.

Greatest Birthday Present Ever!

On my 7th birthday I got a new bike.  On my 10th birthday I got a set of drums.   On my 15th birthday I got my first guitar.  On my 18th birthday I got a car.  On my 21st birthday I got to buy myself 21 shots, got hosed off completely naked by the 18 year old sister of the girl I was dating after puking on myself, and got to sleep in the bathtub of said girls' parents' house.  

To celebrate my 25th birthday, "Go Skateboarding Day," and the summer solitice/pagan holiday, the state of Kentucky has given me a gift I could have lived without -- the opportunity to take a Friday off of work, drive 8 hours (one-way), and spend entirely too much time in the hell-hole of Mayfield, KY to renew my drivers license.  Talking to the DMV today on the phone quickly reminded me of why I only go back to West KY for Christmas. 

I would much rather be leaping across bonefires to promote the fertility of animals and crops with all the other pagans.   

An Inclusive List of Things in my Room

- Sixty-Four (64) square feet of carpet (maybe never vacuumed)

- Zero (0) electrical lights

- One (1) Window (doubles as only source of light)

- One (1) funky smell that I can't quite identify (from previous tenant)

- Three (3) empty suitcases 

- Zero (0) things on the walls

- One-thousand (1,000) noises from the street

- Two (2) pillows

- One (1) air mattress (twin size, if not smaller)

It's really impressive and I call it home.

Where Not to Meet Chicks and the Freakness

Last year I went to Preakness and had a life changing experience within the confines of Pimlico and then in the ghetto of Baltimore.  Yesterday, I enjoyed the second leg of the triple crown 700 miles away from Pimlico and safely at an Off Track Betting site with Yak and Goat.   I had never been to an OTB and was amazed at the number of interesting people were there.  Lots of people with serious gambling problems, lots of people yelling at the ponies, and no women.  

As some of you are probably aware, this is the first year that Pimlico didn't allow its patrons to bring in their own booze and it did not go over very well.  I really can't blame the Maryland frat guys from not going because without booze there is no reason to get in random fistfights, have outdoor sex, or race down the urinals.