Posts tagged ‘Vodka’

October 12, 2011

My 5 Most Abused Forms of Alcohol

by ANDREW HICKS

I used to drink so much the labels looked like they were on backward.

Next week, it’ll be a year since I quit drinking. Though I am extremely grateful and proud that I’ve been able to do it, I feel like it might not be commonly known to the people in my life that I used to drink a LOT. This is a list of the top five alcoholic substances I abused during my decade of hardcore drinking.

1. BEER
To give you just a tiny idea of how much beer I used to drink, this is what my Mondays were like 9 months out of the year: Wake up around 4 pm, hungover/still drunk from the night before. Eat about ten bucks worth of Panera. Go to my men’s bowling league, where the other members of Team Ramrod and I would take turns buying pitchers of Bud Light for the next three hours. Then, it was off to the shithole bar up the street for three more hours of cheap draft beer, jukebox songs, shuffleboard games and loud, obnoxious laughter. Then we’d go to the casino, where I’d drink more draft beer until the bar closed at 3. This was something like two gallons of beer every Monday. And I didn’t take the rest of the week off or anything.


2. CHEAP WHITE WINE

Wine didn’t really enter the picture until my wife got pregnant with my oldest child. I took that old doctor’s cliche about, “One glass of wine won’t hurt you,” and ran with it. I’d buy the magnum-size bottles of chardonnay or sauvignon blanc — cheap stuff like Liberty Creek, Crane Lake, Turning Leaf and other brands that sound like names of bad apartment complexes.

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August 31, 2011

This Week in J.Miz, Volume 12

by J.MIZ
edited by ANDREW HICKS

"What'choo talkin' 'bout, Coroner?"

  • Fuck trial and error! I want trial and success! Like when I’m shopping on sample day, and I get to taste a delicious new bacon or sausage product.
  • It’s gotten to the point that, under “marital status,” I write in “I HAVE A CAT.”
  • I once fucked a guy with the same name as my dad. It was SO weird hooking up with a guy named Dad.
  • My resolution for 2012 is to be wined and dined instead of nickle-and-dimed.
  • While impressed with strippers who can” make it clap”, I won’t be totally awed until they can make that shit speak American Sign Language.
  • Have you ever just listened carefully, stopped and wondered: WHAT THE FUCK IS R. KELLY TALKING ABOUT?!?!?!
  • If I rape a clown, THEN is it funny?
  • Sometimes I celebrate my whiteness. Like now. I’m enjoying a Fresca. Immensely.
  • “YO MTV VMA’S! IMMA LETCHOO FINISH, BUT….” –Beyonce’s fetus
  • I just passed a 13-year-old kid on a bike who was singing “Sweet Caroline.” I hate that fucking kid.
  • I just heard that Gary Coleman STILL isn’t buried. I’m CONVINCED it’s because he refuses to go any lower.
  • I hate being judged for being in my late 30s and owning a cat. It’s pretty unfair to skip over all my other dysfunctional qualities.
  • Screen captchas make me feel like I’m taking a field sobriety test.
  • My boyfriend’s idea of romance is holding hands. While I suck his dick.
  • Every guy who’s known me intimately has truly loved my insides.
  • I just got a piece of my vag caught in my zipper. Thank GOD there’s more where THAT came from.
  • Somebody as tall as me just asked me to reach something for them. HOLY FUCK! These pajamas give me SUPER HEIGHT!
  • GOD! I sure wish I had some candy right now! #ShitYouDontSayToAGuyWithAVan
  • I feel extremely white when I listen to Tom Petty. Even if Lil Wayne drops a remix with him, this will never change.
  • When a guy is being creepy to me via the Internet, 9 times out of 10, he’s a foreigner. Good job keeping the sterotypes alive, “buddy.”
  • You ever have an uncontrollable urge to fuck one of your friends? Cuz otherwise it’s a waste of all that raw GHB?
  • You ever wish you were back in high school? You know, so sex wasn’t so illegal anymore?
  • If I had a dollar for every time anyone said, “I didn’t know you were so smart.” Then I’d be rich, and they’d say, “I didn’t know you were so rich.”
  • I was excited to get invited to a dating sight for faithful singles. But it was Black People Meet. WIn or loss??? YOU decide!
  • I need the hip-hop community to come up with some new synonyms for my fat girl jokes.
  • I was always so grateful I wasnt one of those girls whose cousin took them to prom. THANKS Jacob Howell, Christian youth camp counselor!
  • Since I’m home alone, I’m eating Cheetos and pepper jack cheese. I’m home alone because I sit at home alone eating Cheetos and pepper jack cheese.
  • I SWORE I just heard a “house phone” ring in here. Either I’m stroking out, it’s the 80’s, or Jesus is coming.
  • I think most guys like dogs better because they know you can’t turn a cat lady into a housewife.
  • Legalizing prostitution would NOT increase jobs, it would DECREASE “rental assistance.”
  • Whenever my best friend is in a pinch for babysitters, I help by calling around to see who can get there the fastest from Watchtower.
  • I’m writing a book on how today’s society stalks above the law. You reading this, retweeting or responding saves me a shit-ton of research.
  • Walking home from high school in a Catholic school uniform was OBVIOUSLY a horrible idea. Rape should be more “surprisey.”
  • In high school, my nickname was “Hoover.” Don’t go thinking it was code for anything. It just came from me giving a lot of blowjobs.
  • I’ve tricked a LOT of guys into giving me oral with a little game I like to call Just The Lip.
  • I grew up in a very open family. Or at least that’s how my dad described it to his brother while discussing my mom.
  • My black friend laughed at my last name being a Scantron nightmare. But he empathized with the frustration of it just never fitting.
  • The minute than men can start paying for pussy, I’m FUCKED.
  • I had a HORRIBLE time remembering my ex’s birthday, because I was so busy loving the idea of his death.
  • I am EXTREMELY horrible at forgetting I forgave you.
  • There is nothing more disappointing than bad sex, aside from the guy NOT crying when you tell him.
  • I was asked to bring a headshot to an audition. I’m new to all this, I was a bit hurt they didn’t like the donkey punch porn my ex and I made.
  • ‎Every time I go down my stairs, I almost slip and fall on the same step. I’m CONVINCED it’s a ghost. And questioning if it’s that fifth of vodka.
  • It’s nights like this I totally understand crack addiction. Sucking dick for a piece of toast with cinnamon sugar sounds fair to me.
  • I’m cool with my boyfriend choking me during sex, just not so much when I’m sleeping.
  • The good thing about bed bugs is that you ALWAYS have something to snuggle.
  • My Pandora station is playing a whole lot of I Was Raped As a Little Boy songs. This makes me REALLY question what my brother’s up to.
  • One does not have to be humiliated in order to attain humility.
  • My boyfriend takes me to see all the rejumps of the ’80s and ’90s movies. So sex isn’t the ONLY thing I fall asleep in the middle of.
  • My boyfriend HATES it when I don’t say I love you. But I totally understand. Because sometimes I hate him.
  • People are often amazed that I eat what I want and stay thin. When they ask me my secret, I tell them. LOTS of cardio and vomiting.
  • I’m listening to Lil Wayne’s “Gonorrhea” and wondering if he knew how to spell and treat it, not just transmit it.
  • The weirdest thing about sleeping alone tonite is that feeling of “HOLY SHIT! I TOTALLY didn’t just fuck somebody!”
August 28, 2011

When Disaster Strikes, Drink Vodka

by LOLA TUCKER
edited by ANDREW HICKS

Shoulda got here a little earlier, lady. The good toilet paper is long gone.

It’s been a rough week for people who live close to the nation’s capital. An “earthquake event” this week led straight into a massive “hurricane event.” Hope you got out your ark and your paddles, folks. Hope you loaded up the animals, and battened down the hatches. Irene’s a real frog-strangler.

Here is the really interesting part. Virginia declared a “state of emergency” on Thursday. First thought in my brain when I heard the news: I wonder how late the liquor store is open. I was out of vodka, and there was no way in hell I was going to weather a Category 3 hurricane without some hooch. While the rest of the world stuffed their grocery carts with non-perishables and toilet paper, I was wondering if I should use grenadine or sweet and sour in the Serene Irene cocktail I was inventing.

(By the way, have you NOTICED how many hurricane names start with the letter I? Ike, Isabelle, Igor. And this is the second Hurricane Irene in 12 years. We should start at “Z” next year and work our way backwards through the alphabet, just for a change of pace. We can call the first one “Zazoo” or “Zippy”.)

It’s always such fun to watch the masses scramble to clean out every item known to man from the grocery store shelves. Hell, chaos reigns supreme after a half-inch of snow is forecasted in the metro D.C. area. I challenge you to find anything worth eating, drinking or wiping your butt with when a snowstorm is approaching around here. The Charmin and Angel Soft are the first to go. Arrive too late, and you will be wiping with house-brand sandpaper during the storm.

My pre-Irene shopping list was as follows — vodka for me, bourbon for my husband, club soda and Pepsi for mixers, a couple of limes, maybe some champagne for mimosas, and of course, Charmin. I didn’t buy any food, because I don’t cook on weekends, and I definitely don’t cook during Category 3 hurricanes. Hot dogs and PB&Js have sufficed just fine, and it’s great to make the Domino’s guy drive to your house during a hurricane.

As of midnight Sunday, my power was still on. I got some pre-season football in, and some booze, and I’ve been using the softest of toilet paper. I never thought I’d say it, but hurricanes can be pretty cool sometimes.

February 2, 2011

Not So Good With Women

by Buddah Eskew

I am not very good with women. Even when I undress a woman with my eyes I still have trouble getting the bra unhooked. Although, several women have told me I have a face for porn… but a penis for radio. THANKS ladies.

Some people call me Maurice, even though I specifically told them to call me the gangster of love! A special thanks to Steve Miller for that line. I tried to be all gangster with the chicks but they preferred to call me Gangster-Amish. Buddah, you have no electricity or indoor plumbing. Yeah that is true but my horse has a gold tooth and my buggy has chrome spinner wheels. That’s just how I roll, ladies. I was confused by the whole Gangster-Amish thing. I never knew from day to day if I should wear overalls or baggy pants, straw hat or dew rag, pitch fork or switch blade.

I even stooped as low as date rape a few times, but all that happened is I passed out and women just walked right by me, kind of like when I’m awake. Could one of you girls at least grind a stiletto heel into my back when you step over me? I gotta re-read the instructions on this pill bottle.

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December 21, 2010

Inconspicuously Lit

by ANDREW HICKS

The Long Island Iced Tea was invented in Prohibition times to throw off the law, because it actually looked like an innocent, non-alcoholic beverage. Prohibition is long over, but you might find yourself in need of a drink that no one knows is a drink. So if you’re somewhere that doesn’t allow conspicuous consumption, all you need to make this innocent-looking drink is:

  • A bottle of vodka
  • A bottle of gin
  • A bottle of rum
  • A bottle of tequila
  • A bottle of triple sec
  • A bottle of sour mix
  • A bottle of Coke
  • A ton of ice
  • A flash blender
  • A quart-sized silver mixing tin
  • Seven towels to wrap your glass bottles in, so they don’t clank
  • An enormous duffel bag to put all this shit in

Smuggle these 12 things into whichever place prohibits alcohol, and you too can walk around with your “iced tea” and a knowing wink to flash the cool people. This plan is genius, and this plan is utterly foolproof.

December 6, 2010

WNF Holiday Shopping Guide, Pt. 2

by We’re Not Funny as written by Woo

We’re back, with more amazing items for your perusal! This is more exciting than Cop Rock!

Yeah, you’re reading that correctly. I said yes already! Subtle Butt, ok? These rectangular strips of fabric and activated carbon are your stinky asses new best-friend. Or your best-friend’s stinky asses new best… chance at having more friends than just you? It’s not your fault you were born with no scent receptors, stop your whining! Forget your impotent smellbuds and think of someone else for a change! This compact fart filter is yearning to slide down the crack of your rancid ass right now. Your only other options are complete social ostracization, or shoving actual charcoal right into the starfish’s mouth. Save the charcoal for the grill, and get these for those bologna blocks you call an ass. And, hey, while you’re over there ordering cloth stickers for your budonk, why not look at a few of their other products: Knicker Stickers, Delicates Defender, Nipplomats, The Perk Up, Skid out, and Drip Sticks. You can’t write this shit folks.

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