Sadly, the most powerful firework lit off this weekend was a sparkler. Although, I would be remiss to exclude Dave exploding a lighter in the driveway and it would be a lousy shame not to at least give an honorable mention to Mike for not only suggesting the creation of a sparkler bomb, but for also pulling out a raging gas fire in his back yard in the Zero Hour - i.e. 8 PM on Monday. But it is all probably for the best that we didn't get into the bottle rockets, roman candles and the mighty M-1000's, as we did trounce several handles overproof rum and god only knows how much beer, liquor, wine and other assorted sundries...
But even without the fireworks we were still soundly within reasonable risk of dramatic and sudden amputation, thanks mainly to a malfunctioning reciprocating saw and a flagrant lack of safety equipment. It was a long weekend, after all.
For now we shall brace ourselves against the Summer of 2011, the Summer of Zombies, nasty clowns and in-general clock cleaning. To quote Sheriff Brody from Jaws: "You're gonna need a bigger boat." Embrace this, or we all are doomed.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
Get Drunk, Shoot Off Fireworks
Getting back into the swing of things is no easy task when returning from the land unrealistic expectations and free everything. Paying for meals, driving cars on roads, sitting on chairs in cubicles - these things are rough trade for the very relaxed and threaten to pull away the waxy glaze-skin of vacation, exposing the tender, permeable flesh of the working stiff underneath. But hell, have to get back into it at some point, why not now - if for no other reason than to celebrate the magic of Memory, for this weekend is Memorial Day, an arbitrarily chosen Monday set aside each year in recognition of those who have served.
And what better way to recognize such service than to torpedo as much questionable meat into our faces and drink as much beer as our bellies will allow without tearing the flexible tissue that keeps the meat and beer in? Lobster bibs seem like a good idea. Kiddie pool? Why not. The weather has chipped up, and it's time to show some real appreciation to the gods of Good Times. For if we don't go boldly forth and do this, who will?
One thing, sadly, that this holiday is missing, and forgive me if I'm wrong but I think you will agree with me on this one fellas, is Fireworks. Get drunk, shoot off fireworks - it's the natural progression of things. Who needs thumbs anyway? And if we're being honest, at this point in the year there are some people who we kinda want to shoot fireworks at, anyway.
And what better way to recognize such service than to torpedo as much questionable meat into our faces and drink as much beer as our bellies will allow without tearing the flexible tissue that keeps the meat and beer in? Lobster bibs seem like a good idea. Kiddie pool? Why not. The weather has chipped up, and it's time to show some real appreciation to the gods of Good Times. For if we don't go boldly forth and do this, who will?
One thing, sadly, that this holiday is missing, and forgive me if I'm wrong but I think you will agree with me on this one fellas, is Fireworks. Get drunk, shoot off fireworks - it's the natural progression of things. Who needs thumbs anyway? And if we're being honest, at this point in the year there are some people who we kinda want to shoot fireworks at, anyway.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
The Milk of Reality
I defeated those grey old bastards, got while the getting was good and left nary a trace - an escape so clean they couldn't even find my house to turn it over looking for clues, the fools, which I suppose I should be glad about, but part of me feels for those goons who couldn't even so much as locate my town, and offered little to no chase whatsover. Where's the sport in that? But who can complain with a belly full of fine spirits and limitless cuisine dripping from your sunburned chin and all over your powder blue linen panel shirt. A buck goes far in the Caribbean, and the sun is free.
But all is not hazardless down in the West Indies, as any world traveler will tell you. Other than what has become the generally awful ordeal of air travel, the ground transport wasn't much better, and if you stay still too long, the locals will come at you like cockroaches. Beach Doctors offered Space Cakes, indigenous kitties foraged for lizards and god knows what, local birds swooped indoors to steal eggs from my breakfast - the cannibals! Heavy-set Island women with club-like features grabbed at my arms crackishly, asking why I was afraid of them, insisting I buy their trinkets and geegaws... a day at the beach not for the faint of heart. But fortunately, we are of a robust constitution and can withstand such brackish island charm enough to indulge in the fine pleasures a small island has to offer.
The trip back's teat was ample with the milk of reality - I was treated to a delightful complimentary body scan and sensual rub-rub pat down in Puerto Rico, and a nice fellow in an F-150 thoroughly ratfucked the rear end of my car on the way home from the airport. Welcome back.
But all is not hazardless down in the West Indies, as any world traveler will tell you. Other than what has become the generally awful ordeal of air travel, the ground transport wasn't much better, and if you stay still too long, the locals will come at you like cockroaches. Beach Doctors offered Space Cakes, indigenous kitties foraged for lizards and god knows what, local birds swooped indoors to steal eggs from my breakfast - the cannibals! Heavy-set Island women with club-like features grabbed at my arms crackishly, asking why I was afraid of them, insisting I buy their trinkets and geegaws... a day at the beach not for the faint of heart. But fortunately, we are of a robust constitution and can withstand such brackish island charm enough to indulge in the fine pleasures a small island has to offer.
The trip back's teat was ample with the milk of reality - I was treated to a delightful complimentary body scan and sensual rub-rub pat down in Puerto Rico, and a nice fellow in an F-150 thoroughly ratfucked the rear end of my car on the way home from the airport. Welcome back.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Weekend at Bernie's
Things came to a head as they often do and it's time for me to flee the country. I know what you're thinking - What could he have done? I could send you through a loop of half-truths and over-exaggerations, which is, of course, in my nature, but this time I thought I'd come clean.
I'm fleeing the country due to some inflammatory things I said at the wake the other day, including but not limited to:
I'm fleeing the country due to some inflammatory things I said at the wake the other day, including but not limited to:
What say we grab a crowbar and pop this box open and see what's what?
Should we bury him at sea like that terrorist Bin Laden? How do we know they already didn't? I'll get the hose.
I think when we finally crack that Cracker Jack box open we should reenact Weekend at Bernie's.
What's in the box! What's in the box!?Needless to say, I'll need to scram post-haste. Strangely, though, his family seemed okay with all the strange talk coming from our degenerate collective in the back of the parking lot. They didn't even flinch when Zac kicked me square in the balls out of revenge for that time I stabbed him... It was the funeral director and his hired goons who were grilling us as we tailgated. They seemed to take umbrage to our panache and gumption, and I'm not one to stick around too long after insulting someone who's in the business of hiding bodies.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
The Tontine of the Hill People
Last night I headed back to my hometown of New Milford for Andy's wake. As I drove down the stretch of Route 67 that leads into town, looking out on the series of green and rolling hills, it hit me - I was raised amongst hill people.
As expected, the event was awkward... I can never quite figure out how to properly arrange myself in those types of buildings, so a group of us headed out to the parking lot to twitch around, drink, make horribly inappropriate and at times strangely loud comments and generally be menacing - just as Andy would have wanted.
One idea kept coming up, though: who's next? An ugly thought for sure, but a truly tough nut to crack, and as we are not ones to make serious of such a light situation, we started speculating and eventually mapped out a crude tontine with a ten dollar buy in and a lump sum for the last man standing. It brings out serious unpleasantness in a man when you start speculating and wagering on his life span, telling him: You're next.
As expected, the event was awkward... I can never quite figure out how to properly arrange myself in those types of buildings, so a group of us headed out to the parking lot to twitch around, drink, make horribly inappropriate and at times strangely loud comments and generally be menacing - just as Andy would have wanted.
One idea kept coming up, though: who's next? An ugly thought for sure, but a truly tough nut to crack, and as we are not ones to make serious of such a light situation, we started speculating and eventually mapped out a crude tontine with a ten dollar buy in and a lump sum for the last man standing. It brings out serious unpleasantness in a man when you start speculating and wagering on his life span, telling him: You're next.
Monday, May 9, 2011
The Devil's Margarita
If there is a strange man with crazy eyes in your kitchen brutalizing fruit, screaming at it in Spanish, crushing the juices from it - I say let it ride. This is the only way you will get a truly authentic margarita. I watched, I learned, and I can do it now - and I think I could do it without all of the screaming, but in my heart I know that this is wrong. Those primal screams might just be the key ingredient. Who knows?
The Devil's Margarita
1 Lime
1 Lemon
Patron Tequila
Cointreau Triple Sec
Roll the lemon and lime against a hard surface to loosen up the juices. Slice the fruit in half. Scream at the fruit as if it were a kidnapper taking your children - the key here is to display acute primal rage, balanced with crazed fear and emotion with just a splash of helplessness. Crush the fruit with excited joy, like a despot might crush a weak and powerless rebellion, trying to get what you can of the tangy juices into the glass. Leave the rinds of the fruit haphazardly about the counter top.
Eyeball the quantity of juice. Add an equivalent amount of Patron, then add the same amount of Cointreau. Ice liberally. Insist that everyone drink out of the same glass, while continually informing them that it will make their clothes fall off.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Bad Advice #2 - Corporate Takeover, High Speed Bounce House
The problem with the 24 hour news cycle is that after commercials there are about 1,000 minutes per day of airtime that needs to be filled, so the idea of demanding photos of Zombie Bin Laden, which is in very bad taste and could cause very bad feelings toward America from various countries and is an all around bad idea, is actually a brilliant tactic to filibuster airtime. They can keep asking for the photos, but they won't get them. The unfortunate side effect is that people are getting riled up about it, but I have a solution. Just release a photo of Zombie Bin Laden's shoe at the scene - in the same way local news does when someone gets hit by a car. Death, tastefully done. But that's enough pontification, Tuesday's call for bad advice finally bore fruit, so here we go...
Jesse,
The truth is, nobody really feels like going to work, unless they are of the very small percentage who actually love what they do (internet says 45%, but I call bullshit - figure 15%). So therefore, your quandary. What a lot of people do is either suck it up and feel grateful that they have a job, or try to pursue another occupation. This is wrong - why just cope with your situation? That's how those bastards win! And pursuing another occupation is like eating a ham sandwich and wishing it was turkey - if you had turkey, you'd want ham.
The good news is, you are not fucked. My initial response was to suggest procuring a large bag of drugs and see how that worked out, but in my heart I cannot suggest that. Becoming a zombie is just another way they win. You need to score a win for you. Here's how:
Spend more time chatting with your coworkers or customers - whoever you interact with regularly. Draw a line in the sand and determine who's on your side and who's not. Those who are for you, they are your army - treat them well. Remember - from here on out, you are in charge. Act like it!
Find small ways to make things more difficult for those who are against you - make more work for them, do petty untraceable things to make their lives progressively more miserable. You'll want to ramp it up slowly - over the course of about two months. Meanwhile, make small negative comments to your army about how lousy your enemies are - again ramping this up over the course of two months or so.
Once the division between the two groups reaches a boiling point, make a move to aggressively overthrow company leadership by first knocking down middle management, then moving on toward upper management. Once they submit to a series of superfluous demands, one of which will be to install you in either middle or upper management - a cushy position to be sure, take stock of your situation. Do you still hate coming in to work?
Good luck with that.
-Maxx
Anonymous,
Two weeks, eh? There isn't much time. You'll need to stock up on techno music, inflatable pool toys, lots of Red Bull and salty snacks. You'll also want to pick up an air pump that you can plug into the cigarette lighter in the car.
Find out what kind of stereo is in the car. Tape? CD? 8 Track? Get lot's of techno music in that format and get ready to blast it. A basic rule of thumb is if something is annoying for everyone but you are the one doing it, your threshold will be much greater. For this to work, you will also have to locate and discard you friend's music selection, and if they put on the radio, always immediately scan around through static "looking for a station" until you get bored and put the techno on again.
The Red Bull is key. You will need this to maintain a constant high level of enthusiasm throughout the trip. Remember, our country is beautiful - take every chance to remind your friend of this by abruptly shouting "Ooh, look at that!" The salty snacks will enable you to drink more Red Bull between pee stops. Go team!
If your friend gets sleepy, let her sleep while you drive. Forty-five minutes should be enough for her to get into REM sleep, at which point you will want simultaneously crank the volume on the stereo and swerve erratically - this sudden panicky alertness will ensure maximum sleep deprivation.
The inflatables... this is where it gets tricky. You'll want to determine a time when it is appropriate to use the air pump to inflate the inflatables inside the car. If you really wear your friend down, you might be able to inflate them while she's driving. Otherwise, you will have to wait until she is out of the car. Regardless, the inflatables will likely exacerbate any feelings of ill will, so the use of caution is recommended. It's one thing to piss someone off, it's another to trap them in a crowded high speed bounce house.
Good luck with that.
-Maxx
Ok Maxx i need advice... So i really HAVE NOT felt like going to work recently. What should i do about this?
-Jesse
Jesse,
The truth is, nobody really feels like going to work, unless they are of the very small percentage who actually love what they do (internet says 45%, but I call bullshit - figure 15%). So therefore, your quandary. What a lot of people do is either suck it up and feel grateful that they have a job, or try to pursue another occupation. This is wrong - why just cope with your situation? That's how those bastards win! And pursuing another occupation is like eating a ham sandwich and wishing it was turkey - if you had turkey, you'd want ham.
The good news is, you are not fucked. My initial response was to suggest procuring a large bag of drugs and see how that worked out, but in my heart I cannot suggest that. Becoming a zombie is just another way they win. You need to score a win for you. Here's how:
Spend more time chatting with your coworkers or customers - whoever you interact with regularly. Draw a line in the sand and determine who's on your side and who's not. Those who are for you, they are your army - treat them well. Remember - from here on out, you are in charge. Act like it!
Find small ways to make things more difficult for those who are against you - make more work for them, do petty untraceable things to make their lives progressively more miserable. You'll want to ramp it up slowly - over the course of about two months. Meanwhile, make small negative comments to your army about how lousy your enemies are - again ramping this up over the course of two months or so.
Once the division between the two groups reaches a boiling point, make a move to aggressively overthrow company leadership by first knocking down middle management, then moving on toward upper management. Once they submit to a series of superfluous demands, one of which will be to install you in either middle or upper management - a cushy position to be sure, take stock of your situation. Do you still hate coming in to work?
Good luck with that.
-Maxx
I wouldn't say I need bad advice per say but a little comic relief would help.
I was volunteered by a good friend to "help" her other good friend (a former foe of mine) to move home. A.k.a... Drive across country from AZ to CT with Ms. Wretched Negative Nelly. Normally I would've denied this offer but Negative Nelly turned into Sappy Sally Full of Tears & guilted me into it. In less than 2 week I'm embarking on this dreadful trip. Laughs please!!!!!
-Anonymous
Anonymous,
Two weeks, eh? There isn't much time. You'll need to stock up on techno music, inflatable pool toys, lots of Red Bull and salty snacks. You'll also want to pick up an air pump that you can plug into the cigarette lighter in the car.
Find out what kind of stereo is in the car. Tape? CD? 8 Track? Get lot's of techno music in that format and get ready to blast it. A basic rule of thumb is if something is annoying for everyone but you are the one doing it, your threshold will be much greater. For this to work, you will also have to locate and discard you friend's music selection, and if they put on the radio, always immediately scan around through static "looking for a station" until you get bored and put the techno on again.
The Red Bull is key. You will need this to maintain a constant high level of enthusiasm throughout the trip. Remember, our country is beautiful - take every chance to remind your friend of this by abruptly shouting "Ooh, look at that!" The salty snacks will enable you to drink more Red Bull between pee stops. Go team!
If your friend gets sleepy, let her sleep while you drive. Forty-five minutes should be enough for her to get into REM sleep, at which point you will want simultaneously crank the volume on the stereo and swerve erratically - this sudden panicky alertness will ensure maximum sleep deprivation.
The inflatables... this is where it gets tricky. You'll want to determine a time when it is appropriate to use the air pump to inflate the inflatables inside the car. If you really wear your friend down, you might be able to inflate them while she's driving. Otherwise, you will have to wait until she is out of the car. Regardless, the inflatables will likely exacerbate any feelings of ill will, so the use of caution is recommended. It's one thing to piss someone off, it's another to trap them in a crowded high speed bounce house.
Good luck with that.
-Maxx
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Freedom Boner
I see no one took me up on my offer for free bad advice, which is understandable. If I stood on a street corner with a sign that said "Free Broken Nose," I doubt I would have any takers. But, in the spirit of the internet - the post will stand! I will find some poor misguided sap to give bad advice to, mark my words.
But enough with the idle threats, we must press forward to more important concerns. Last night, I put my balls on my sleeve and got up again at the Joker's Wild open mic. I didn't bomb like I did last time... don't get me wrong - I still ate it, but at least this time I got some laughs.
The one standout disappointment, though, was that I realized was headed home afterward, I realized I missed an great tag at the end of one of the bits. I was talking about the Bin Laden raid, wondering if it played out anything like an action movie with a cool catchy phrase right before they got him, etc... anyway, here's the missing line:
But enough with the idle threats, we must press forward to more important concerns. Last night, I put my balls on my sleeve and got up again at the Joker's Wild open mic. I didn't bomb like I did last time... don't get me wrong - I still ate it, but at least this time I got some laughs.
The one standout disappointment, though, was that I realized was headed home afterward, I realized I missed an great tag at the end of one of the bits. I was talking about the Bin Laden raid, wondering if it played out anything like an action movie with a cool catchy phrase right before they got him, etc... anyway, here's the missing line:
(Bin Laden has just been killed, the Seal who took him out is standing over his body) He says to one of the other Seals: "I've got such a freedom boner right now!"
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Need More Bad Advice?
Need bad advice? Look no further! If you need bent, twisted, last-resort advice to help guide you from bad to worse, I'm here for you! As the Mayor of Bad Decision Country, I'm uniquely qualified to upgrade the terror alert level of any nasty little situation, including yours, guaranteed!
Simply post the key details of your predicament in the comments section below and I will provide you with the most thorough, up-to-date, worldly, godawful advice I can muster. Leave it to me - I know how to make your situation worse!
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