Made from 100% pure buffalo extract! (Yes, that’s a semen joke)
I decided to go with the much more visually stunning “X” than the rudimentary “10.” It makes me feel like I’m Julius Caesar or something. Next thing you know, I’m going to ditch the band and go solo. Hell, I might even record a synth album. The Stroke sucked, anyway. Right? Don’t you think? Et tu, reader?
A well-known man ’round these parts by the name of Stephen in Japan has sent along a very generous donation. So generous, in fact, that I was not only able to procure a bottle of delicious Buffalo Trace Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey, but with the leftover money I was also able to stop at Trader Joe’s for some snacks that my friends and girlfriend could enjoy while we drink. So, thanks for the bourbon and for the mini chicken tacos, mushroom turnovers and pita bread, Stephen! That was so very cool of you.
Buffalo Trace isn’t as smooth as Elmer T. Lee, which is my current bourbon of choice. Tom, Nate and I poured ourselves some generous portions. It smells a little bit like vanilla, maybe with a hint of mint. The oak presence is immediately noticeable as well. There’s no harsh burn, but unlike the Elmer T. Lee you taste a bit more of the oak. That’s okay. As long as that disgusting burn isn’t present I’ll just keep drinking until I black out…which I might do tonight…even though I promised myself I’d wake up early and go for a run in the morning. Also I have to go to the doctor tomorrow. I don’t want to show up hungover. I want to be taken seriously. That’s why I blog.
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A week ago Nate and I decided we needed to introduce people to the amazingness that is Joe Schmo 2, also known as the best show on television, ever. Back in 2004 my sister and I used to watch that show after I would drive home from summer school classes at Morris County College. I was studying Italian and my professor (who in hindsight would have been a dead-ringer for “Gus” on Breaking Bad) would constantly tell me I looked like a young Roberto Benigni. I couldn’t tell if he was hitting on me or insulting me. I used to race home from Morristown after class to see what would happen next on that show. We drank as we watched. As more contestants are being voted off the show with each episode, our drinking game rules have become irrelevant. “Drink every time Ingrid thinks the show is fake,” or “Drink every time Bryce says something creepy” has been replaced by a general “Drink whenever” policy, which definitely helps to highlight the show’s funniest moments.
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In between episodes we are performing stunts using Adam’s workout ball. You know those big, bouncy, blue balls (hey-o!) that people try to balance on when they’re exercising? We’re trying to see who can roll around on one of those the most before flying off and cracking their skull on the floor or the wall. Tom appeared to be the idiot most likely to endure some kind of catastrophic injury, but somehow he would avoid disaster every time he hit the floor. One time he came up holding his hip bone, but I’m sure it was just him being a wuss again.
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The Buffalo Trace is half empty. Nate has shifted his focus from Joe Schmo 2 to Full Tilt Poker. I told him not to go all in against that guy with AQ, but he wouldn’t listen to me. The other guy showed AJ and then his Jack hit. Sorry ’bout the 26 bucks, Nate. Maybe you should start a blog to solicit money from readers so that you can fuel your online poker addiction. Me, I’ll stick to requesting money for alcohol so I can fuel my alcoholism.
I don’t know, I don’t think Piper is that hot. Did I leave the oven on? Did Casca just graze me on the back of the neck? Et tu, reader?
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I’m starting to feel a little drunk now. Nate started another poker tournament after staring at his bank account information online for what felt like twenty minutes. I almost let him play under my account but I’m still proud of the fact that there’s still seventeen dollars there for me to play with in the event that I get really bored one night and I have nothing to do. Oh, shit, a poker tournament would have been the perfect way to pass the time last Friday when I spent eight hours in bed experiencing some of the worst stomach pain of my entire life. I bet that would’ve totally distracted me from the pain. Or who knows, maybe it would have only encourage the slow-burning, gnawing feeling in my guts.
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Jesus. Nate just went all-in again in another tournament with AK, and he ran into KK. Guess what, he lost. A fucking King hit on the flop and now he’s out another twenty-five bucks. The kid can’t catch a break tonight. Meanwhile, we’re rapidly approaching the Joe Schmo 2 finale and everyone who hasn’t seen the show before (that would be Nicci and Tom) appear to be increasingly excited to learn how it will end. Between episodes seven and eight we took more time to bounce on the ball, no one broke any bones, but I did share the story about when I was in first grade and I was playing at the retard’s house one night while our parents had dinner, and I was bouncing on one of those balls and I fell off and broke my finger. That was fourteen years ago…this very same night! Cue the sounds of a haunted house. Somebody grab my still-sealed copy of the Disney LP Thrilling Chilling Sounds of the Haunted Mansion. I can’t think of a more perfect time to hear that album for the first time. On a related note, I’m having more trouble thinking now.
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Okay, we stopped before the season finale. The bourbon is all but gone, only the faintest golden ring of leftover booze rests at the bottom of the bottle. There are no more mushroom turnovers, mini chicken tacos or chicken shu mai to consume. It’s time to stumble upstairs and pass out. Not sure if I’m going to get that run in tomorrow morning, not sure if I’m going to be hungover before my doctor’s appointment or not. It’s going to be an interesting Wednesday. The only thing I know for sure is that there will be pub trivia tomorrow night, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let team “Orangina Tastes Nothing Like An Orangutan’s Vagina” finish anywhere lower than first place.
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Hi. It’s Wednesday afternoon. I need to have an endoscopy done next week! Has anyone had one before? Should I be scared out of my mind? Can anyone drive me to the outpatient center? Also, I would like to send my best wishes to my old friend Mike, who scared all of those who care about him with a bad fall over the weekend that required emergency back surgery. I’ve known Mike since the first grade and want to wish him a speedy recovery. Maybe you all could send a get well message, too. I know for a while he was reading and commenting on this page but I don’t know if he still does. Take care Mike, I’ll see you in October, when you’re out of the hospital and I’m on the east coast. XOXO.
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