Miss(ed) Manners

January 30, 2007

The Race Where No One Wins

Filed under: Drinking,Drinking Games,Drunk,Humor,Hungover — missedmanners @ 3:08 am

So last Friday I mentioned that a few of my friends and I had a “race to ten Irish Car Bombs.” I should have let on that it was a misnomer. There really isn’t a race. It’s a well scripted descent into blinding drunkenness, which you may have noticed is a running theme with this blog (see this and this). Childish? Yes. Dangerous? Most definitely. Fun to the point of pukesville? Without a doubt.

The “Race to Ten” is a budding tradition of mine, a challenge that you cannot deny and a journey that you mustn’t miss. The rules are simple: Survive drinking ten Irish Car Bombs in one sitting (though you may be leaping, crawling, retching, sneezing or imploding at various points). It always starts out with all sorts of good intentions, okay, that’s a complete lie; the intentions are the worst kind.

For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about an Irish Car Bomb is 3/4 of a pint of Guinness Stout with a half shot of Bailey’s and Jameson dropped into the glass. Our glasses were slightly smaller so on average I’d say we were doing closer to a half pint each time. Still though, that’s like eight loaves of bread.

Enough intro, more body. Let’s meet up with the contestants (The pictures below will also serve as “Before” examples):

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Contestant #1: Me. I like to start trouble. Last Thursday was no exception.

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Contestant #2: Miss Blue Sky. Melissa throws a weekly party at a bar that I’ve literally spent more time in than any school I’ve ever attended. I did the math. She was the only other contestant in the first race. Neither of us won that time either. In fact, we both lost several hours of our life to Blackout Village, population: Us.

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Contestant #3: Commando. Keith is a buddy of mine from way back. He works on Rhythmism with me. He likes guns… and drinking. I believe he may even like them at the same time, which is why I only hang out with Keith in Blue States.

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Contestant #4: Noiseboy. Mikey and I do everything together, well whenever he’s around. He’s a super special tour manager for some big named DJ’s. We like to sit around and talk about our favorite things about ourselves. Hence why we get along so well.

Oh and we can’t forget Trixie.

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The eminently charming and talented Trixie is our bartender. She was on hand for the destruction that was about to commence. Trix is the best because she’s among the handful of New York bartenders that can keep up with me when I get a mind to get down to boozin’. She’s also way prettier than the guys I usually get alcohol from.

Anyway, we started with a simple plan. One car bomb every thirty minutes till we were done. Some people hopped in and out along the way, but myself, Melissa, Keith and Mike were committed by a binding contract of assured shame should any of us bow out. The rounds were arranged as such:

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The play by play.

Round 1: Nothing to report, we were still very sober (despite dining on schnitzel and VERY nice German beer for the two hours preceding the event).
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Round 2: Disco D’s Round, if you know, you know (RIP). A mini Irish wake was had.
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Round 3: Still not drunk.
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Round 4: The Round of Danger. This is the point that we had ascertained that we should by all rights start to be getting drunk-ish.
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Round 5: This is when we started naming rounds and acting them out. But not without a few midway status upgrade pics first!
boys-night-out-07-021.jpg Here Keith is threatening to either stab Betty or the booze, or he is about to rail a massive bump of invisible cocaine off that knife Carlito style. For the record, Betty wrote all our round cards and named them. She’s a type A personality, whereas we are just drunks.

boys-night-out-07-020.jpg After five Car Bombs Mike was starting to feel gangster, which is obvious by the massive wad of $61 dollars he was flashing around like a Turkish sheik in a harem full of women made out of diamonds and platinum.

boys-night-out-07-018.jpg I look like death warmed over. However I can assure you I was feeling fine. Though look at my friend Joe’s look in the background. He was obviously concerned, or passing gas. Neither would have phased me, I call this look: “The Zone.” You may know it by another name, “The Crazies.”

Round Six: “Sexy 6”
boys-night-out-07-035.jpg Indeed.

Round Seven: “Lucky 7”
boys-night-out-07-037.jpg This is me being lucky not to get a fucking thorn in my tongue. Actually this was our Sexy 6 photo. We were at a complete loss as to how to look “lucky.” But I guess being lucky enough to have a pal like Meliss is good enough.

Round Eight: “Crazy 8’s”
Remember when I just said that great stuff about being lucky to have Melissa as a friend? Well I said that because she disappeared for good after round 7. We didn’t notice until round 11. In honor of Crazy 8 Mike and I also did a shot of Tequila because the Guinness was being all pussy. Here’s the effect of us on some Tijuana Bang Bang:
boys-night-out-07-038.jpg I get all fucking frightened by this picture till I realize it’s me.

Round 9: “Naughty 9”
boys-night-out-07-034.jpg Don’t fucking ask. Though I must say Keith has got a bad ass “O” face.

Round 10: “The Round of Death”
Was HIGHLY anti-climactic. In fact, I was drunk enough to forget that we’d done it and asked Mike several times when our next one was coming up. We ended up doing another one, or Round 11: The Round Which Shalt Not Be Named. Then we did a variety of poses and realized Melissa was missing.

boys-night-out-07-044.jpg Nope, not drunk at all, haha.

boys-night-out-07-045.jpgboys-night-out-07-046.jpgThis is when we started just screaming for no reason. There weren’t a lot of people left around to be impressed by us… but man were we impressed with ourselves.

boys-night-out-07-048.jpg This is when Keith gave me a piggy back victory ride… to nowhere. Bear in mind I was like twenty pounds heavier than usual, what with all the Guinness.

And so our night was over. As we wandered out into the night to find (hopefully) our beds to sleep off the poisoned, frothy goodness we’d so unabashedly injected into our gullets we were all seeing the world like this:

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I woke the next morning the way I did the first time I had a race: On time and completely unhungover, though quite possibly still drunk. So the race ends and the tradition grows. You up for a Race to Ten?

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January 24, 2007

The CSI: Miami Drinking Game

Filed under: CSI,Drinking,Drinking Games,Silly — missedmanners @ 1:38 pm

Okay, so on Monday I mentioned my roommate’s and my abusive love for the show, CSI:Miami. The show is amazing. It takes every unbelievable, laughable aspect of the original CSI and puts it in a thong bikini. The show’s become so ridiculously predictable that we jokingly made up a drinking game based on the things you WILL see every episode.

The first of these refer to the main character, Lieutenant Horatio Caine, played by David Caruso.

Check him out:

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This image is misleading because that motherfucker is always wearing sunglasses, because, in case you forgot, it’s fucking crazy bright in Miami. Here are some of the rules pertaining to him:

If at any time someone actually says David Caruso’s character’s full, ridiculous name (Horatio Caine): 1 Drink

David Caruso removes his sun glasses to emphasize a point: 1 Drink

NEW! David Caruso puts ON his sun glasses to emphasize a point: 1 Drink

The emphasized point is the lead in quote to the theme song: Drink half of your drink

Says another characters name as though it were a question (Alexx……?): 1 Drink

Caine utters some Confucian wisdom, for example, “Tomorrow is what you make of it,” or “Sometimes when you have everything it feels like nothing at all.”: 1 Drink… 5 if you don’t crack up laughing.

If Caine sticks up for an abused woman by physically threatening the man doing the beating thereby showing that violence is not the answer: 3 Drinks

Anytime Caine intentionally keeps his staff in the dark regarding key knowledge of a case to keep their objectivity intact: 1 Drink for every character fooled, 5 Drinks for every character that figures it out, 1 Whole Beer if it was something incredibly contrived like a Norwegian mouse hair or some bullshit like that.

You see a shot of Caine in his pimped out hummer: 1 Drink

You see a shot of Caine jumping out of his hummer, gun in hand: +3 Drinks

Now some minor characters:

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Emily Procter a.k.a “Calleigh Duquesne”

Calleigh is a southern girl, and don’t you forget it. She’s also an incredibly gifted CSI, you can tell this because she’s wicked hot. Her rules:

Anytime Calleigh brutally overpowers a much larger man because she knows CSI Brand Jui Jitsu: 2 Drinks

If the beating was administered because the villain made light of the fact that Calleigh has a vagina: +1 Drink

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Adam Rodridguez a.k.a “Eric Delko”

Eric is hot under the collar and came from a rough background, he may or may not like smoking the weed.

Anytime Eric gets hot under the collar: 1 Drink

Anytime you are reminded that Eric is from a rough background: 1 Drink

If he actually smokes weed: Sit back and watch CBS implode under the weight of a nation’s misplaced disdain.

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Khandi Alexander a.k.a. “Dr. Alexx Woods”

Alexx is the resident mortician/autopsy lady. She’s got this whole queen of the dead type thing going on that routinely makes my naughty bits tingle. Her rules:

If she says the word(s):

“Mortis”: 1 Drink

“Rigor”: 1 Drink

“Time of Death”: 1 Drink

“Shoe leather”: 2 Drinks

“Door nail”: 3 Drinks

“Disco”: 4 Drinks

“David Caruso’s Film Career”: 8 Drinks, reenact the pussy eating scene from Jade with a throw pillow.

If at any time Dr. Alexx speaks to a corpse and expresses regret over his/her death showing that despite handling thousands of corpses daily, she is in no way jaded: 2 Drinks

Rules for Scenes Inside the CSI Mega Lab Complex

Most of the show takes place in here when H isn’t out tracking down bikini bandits or something. If you’ve ever been in a real forensics lab checking semen samples (like ya do), then you know that they’re actually fluorescent lit, horribly uncomfortable places. Not the CSI: Miami lab, hell no. Their headquarters was designed by robot versions of the guys from Queer Eye. Here’s a list of rules for their absolutely idiotic take on forensic research.

Any time you see a custom user interface for a computer program the techs are running: 1 Drink

Any time you see a futuristic font used in said interface: +1 Drink

If that user interface is projected gratuitously on a wall behind the characters: 2 Drinks

If a character uses a computer to magically enhance a blurry image far beyond what is possible: 4 Drinks

Example: cannot equal this: This

Computer generated zoom in to watch a wound unfold on a person in a manner that is in no way gross, nope, not at all: 1 Drink

Same computer generated zoom in done in slightly different manner to reflect new evidence in a way that’s not cliche, nope, not at all: +1 Drink

Black light used as background light, not for semen search: 2 Drinks

Semen search black light: 1 Drink (the point is to get drunk)

Different colored light used for some kind of alien semen search or something: 2 Drinks

Final Rule:

If the body count of the entire show ends up being 1 or less: Drink entire beer, change channel, you may have been watching the Golden Girls. Not your fault, it’s easy to mix up Caruso and Rue McClanahan.

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