That Jack and Coke Your Sippin' is for Pussies

From the A.P. on Yahoo! News we learn that Jack Daniels is now a weak little bitch.

If you've noticed that your Jack Daniel's is carrying a little less kick these days, you're probably right. The famed "sippin' whiskey," which advertises a recipe traced back to the nation's first registered distillery, has lowered the alcohol content of its flagship brand, Old No.7 Black Label.

The whiskey now registers 80 proof, instead of 86 (or 40 percent alcohol versus 43 percent), and some drinkers feel betrayed.

"You can't screw with a legend like that and get away with it," said Frank Kelly Rich, editor of Modern Drunkard magazine. "I'm sure Jack is spinning in his grave."

Whoa! Did you catch that? There's a magazine called Modern Drunkard?!? Why, in fact there is. Why haven't I heard about this?

Anyways, the article continues:

The company says the switch was made because most customers prefer the less potent mix, which was marketed first in a few states and some overseas markets. The transition was completed earlier this year.

Those who want a stiffer drink can buy specialty versions like Jack Daniel's Single Barrel at 94 proof, the company said.

Or for a couple of dollars more you can just get a bottle of Maker's Mark or Knob Creek. Fuck you Jack Daniels. See you in hell.

Hey, wait a minute, why am I so upset?!? Oh, that's because I'm drunk on bourbon and I'm a little irrational right now!

Quit lookin' at me! You wanna take this outside?!?

Debate Drinking Game

Tonight is the first of the Presidential Debates. Knowing that the drinking games will be circulating all over the internet, I've decided to create my own.

1. Everytime a candidate says the word "Iraq", do a shot.
2. If Bush says "nucular", do a line of coke.
3. If Kerry says "Dubya stands for Wrong", shoot yourself in the leg.
4. If either candidate says the word "values", go fuck a prostitute.
5. If Bush equivocates Iraq with Al Qaeda, take 2 bong hits.
6. If Kerry talks about Vietnam, take 3 hits of the brown acid.
7. If either candidate farts, give the person to your right a "hot carl".
8. In honor of the Bush Twins, every 5 minutes do a shot.
9. In honor of Teresa Heinz Kerry, chase each shot with a ketchup packet then say "fuck you" in a foreign language.
10. In honor of America, eat some apple pie and wash it down with a glass of gasoline.

Apple I

There's an Apple I computer for sale on Ebay. I kinda like that there wooden keyboard. I wonder if they'd sell that separately. C'mon, break up the package, gimme the keyboard, I'll shed 10 bucks for it.

Also, as I type this, there's a Rod Stewart feature on NPR and Rod just said something along the lines of "Do what you want to do and do it for yourself." Thanks for the tip, Rod.

And then as I was typing this (not on my wooden keyboard, c'mon, gimme the keyboard) I did a quick Google Image search for Rod Stewart to see if I could find a funny picture. Well, I did, but instead I'll just link the whole damn page of "VIPs".

All right, here you go, a real picture of Rod Stewart.

One Good Boot

Slappy McBappy raised his shoe and chucked it towards the dumpster, only over shooting the dumpster by about fifteen feet. The shoe came to rest on a fire ant hill, agitating 384297 ants that immediately swarmed the shoe to protect their beloved queen. This may symbolize something. I'm not sure. Pay attention.

"Fuckin' shoe," muttered McBappy. He pulled a cowboy boot out of the bed of his pickup and forced it onto his newly bared foot.

"Perfect fit," gleamed McBappy. "Sweet."

His other foot (the left) was still bare. He only had a right boot and a right shoe. We know what happened to the shoe, and the boot was now on his foot. He walked to the dumpster and found a piece of styrofoam and tied it to his left foot with some twine.

"Hot damn!"

McBappy got in his truck and did a few donuts in the gravel parking lot before peeling out on down the road. While cruising on down the road listening to some tunes, he passed a sign indicating directions to get to the beach.

"The beach. I wanna go to the beach. Hot damn!" exclaimed McBappy. "Ah yeah, hot babes and sand and surf. I'm gonna get me a ham sandwich and a tan."

McBappy arrived at the beach and started to relax with a ham sandwich in his hand and a tan on the way.

"Ahhhhh, the good life," sighed McBappy as he noticed a gang of--yep, you guessed it--windsurfers.

One of the windsurfers approaches. He's wearing lots of spandex.

"This is a private beach, asshole. Locals only, bitchwipe. Hey, where'd you get that ham sandwich? Is that a piece of styrofoam on your foot?"

"One question at time, please," replied McBappy.

"I don't think I like your attitude," snarled the windsurfer. "Stand up."

McBappy started to get up but the windsurfer pushed him back down into the sand.

"I said get up."

McBappy looked up at the guy, and started to get up again, only to be pushed back down into the sand.

"What's the matter, don't you speak American? I said get up!"

"It'd be a lot easier for me to get up if you didn't push me."

"No excuses, get up, baby ass."

Slappy McBappy slowly rolled over and then suddenly kicked wildly with his booted leg. The windsurfer was not ready for this surprise on-the-ground-crab-kick and the heel of the boot just barely, and I mean barely, grazed the windsurfer's nuts. But it was enough to bring the windsurfer to his knees. While both men were on the ground, McBappy thrusted his other leg and popped the windsurfer in the face. Only it didn't hurt, because getting kicked in the head with a styrofoam shoe doesn't really hurt that bad.

McBappy stood up and grabbed his ham sandwich that had fallen into the sand and crammed it into the windsurfer's mouth. By the this time, though, the rest of the windsurfer's friends had come over and they started kicking the crap out of McBappy.

McBappy was severely beaten and then dumped into the bed of his truck where he slept that night. When he awoke, he saw the windsurfers surfing. He crawled into his truck and realized that his boot was gone and he was only wearing the sytrofoam.

"Damn, that was one good boot," sighed Slappy McBappy.

X-treme Hattiness

Feeling down? Feeling lonely? Are you in the dumps? In a ditch? Are you a baby stuck in a well?

Turn that frown upside down sad clown and look at these smiling people in hats. They're happy, so what the hell's your problem? Ya loser.

Cards

"So, Jefe, are you gonna play cards today?" says the boss man.

"I gotta get my shit done for the meeting this afternoon, so we'll see."

"You gotta get your priorities straight. Are you playing or not? I need a yes or no answer."

"Yes."

"Be at my office in an hour."

"Okay"

One hour later.

There's four of us playing cards. Me, my partner, the boss man, and the boss man's partner are the contestants. Things begin well for my team. We are kicking ass. Taking names. Kicking ass and taking names and setting world records. We got all the cards today, man. We are the hot shit. The boss man's partner has a spectacularly bad hand that he bid on...

"You must have done something wrong," says the boss man.

"Huh?" says the boss man's partner.

"I mean, you got terrible luck today. Horrible, just awful. Bad karma all around. What the fuck? Did you go next door and peek at your neighbor's wife or something?"

Laughs emit from the boss man's partner.

"I mean, did you go try some peeping tom shit and get caught? Were you like over at the neighbors doing some spying in the windows and shit? What the hell? I mean..."

More laughs.

"It wouldn't be the first time a man got his nuts caught on the picket fence trying to climb back over..."

This time nervous laughs emit from all the players.

"Did I ever tell you about that one dumb ass that was poor as shit and living in a shack and his wife was always getting pregnant?"

Players' eyes look around.

"Yeah, this poor dumb son of a bitch, he was poor as shit, living in a shack, and he had all these kids, you see. Nobody knew nothing about birth control back then, and he couldn't figure out why his wife was always getting pregnant. So he got desperate one day, and he cut his dick off with an oyster knife."

"With a wha?"

"An oyster knife. You ever see an oyster knife? It's a really dull knife. Well, this poor son of a bitch cut his dick off with an oyster knife. True story, by the way."




"No way."

"No, true story, I swear. He cut his dick off, and then, believe it or not, his wife still got pregnant."

"What?"

"Only not by him, but by the next door neighbor. I swear to god. This poor bastard..."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah, this poor asshole cut his dick off and his wife fucked his neighbor and got pregnant."

My team won the card game, 2-1.

Reverse Blogging

Bleh. I gots nuttin. I'm gonna start reverse blogging. I'm gonna start deleting stuff. Kinda like making a David out of a marble block. Exactly like that.

The Food Timeline

This is a most fascinating site. Yes?

Labor Day Weekend

It's Labor Day Weekend asshats and that means one thing.

Do you know what that one thing is?

I'll tell you.

Okay, that one thing is hot dogs. That's right, this is a good weekend to eat hot dogs.

Here's a fun Slate article doing hot dog reviews. Just substitute Fourth of July with Labor Day Weekend.

BONUS: Here's a couple of hot dog blogs:

Watch me eat a hot dog

Hot Dog Spot

Go stick a hot dog in your mouth and eat it and like it.

Public Domain Music

At Public Domain 4U they have free public domain mp3 files 2 the max.

An Introduction To Slappy McBappy

Slappy McBappy went to the store to buy a four by four. Upon arrival, he noticed that pieces of things were popping out of this son-of-a-bitch like there was no tomorrow.

"Holy Fucking Shit!" belled McBappy, Slappy.

A man with a garden hose and a rake and a ten foot snake walked through a doorway, one of those doorways you see on a saloon in western movies where the doors swing open, only the doorway was just a prop and had no real purpose, it was just there in the store parking lot, but there he goes! Walking through the mofo doorway.

"Whut kin ah dew ya fir?" said the man with the garden hose, rake, 10 ft. snake.

"Well, I was here to stop by to get up on some four by fours by I noticed..."

"Yeah, all that fuckin' shit blowin' it's goldurn top like it's a Mount Visivious," interrupted the man with the garden hose, et al.

"So just what the heck happened Huck?" said the four by four customer (McBappy) noticing the other man containing the items mentioned earlier also happened to contain a name tag on his vest that said the word "Huck."

"Well, sheeeeyit, I tell ya wut happened. Wut happened is I got myself up delivered a big huge pot of none of yer goldurn bizness, ya no gud ess oh bee. Go eat a turd and die, ya punk."

"Alright, I see how it is. I know when I'm not wanted." McBappy pulled a pen out of his pants pocket and threw it across the parking lot, hitting the cement and landing perfectly on a yellow line. This symbolizes his fate with some sort of destiny.

So the four by four hunting customer (McBappy) left. As he pulled out of the parking lot, his car was hit by a man driving a really really nice foreign car (probably German, most certainly not French). He sued this man and made a lot of money off of it. He then used this money to open up a store that sold fishing tackle and beer. Unfortunately, his store had a horrible location (location, location, location!) and he went bankrupt. Don't worry about Slappy, though. He will have more adventures soon.

As for the other man, he had a massive heart attack a few days later due to his propensity to eat bacon at every goddamned meal (you just can't do that!). He lives in heaven now because he accepted the Lord into his heart. John 3:16.