Tag Archives: drinking

You've got to figure there's a beer hidden under the hat somewhere.

St. Patrick’s Day Blur

I’m blurring, dudes.

Although, I realize that by saying that today, I might be giving the wrong impression. You might think I’m out downing copious amounts of green beer, talking in an appallingly bad Irish accent and wearing far too much green.

And, yes, it’s true. And I didn’t even know it was St. Patrick’s Day today.

But the blur to which I’m referring is what you’re going to see when I

Not Me, nor Hyper Lad. Promise.

Not Me, nor Hyper Lad. Promise.

blow past you on the slopes.

Hyper Lad and I are on our own up on the mountains, trying out East Coast snowboarding. My wife, known as She Who Must Be Hopping Mad By Now, had to stay at home to work, but we managed to sneak out for his spring break.

Buzz, The Garbage Disposal Who Walks Like A Dog, has promised to look after those left behind, but I’m not counting on him being able to make a dinner that consists of more than randomly found goose poop pellets.

Still, I’ve managed to put that out of my mind as Hyper Lad and I blur down the slopes. This is his first time on the slopes and my first time on snowboards. I’m a pretty good skier, but this is something completely different.

I just hope I don’t come back with several casts and a tree branch stuck through my abdomen.

Drinking and boarding is not a good idea. It’s fun, mind you, but it’s not a good idea.

Wish me luck.

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Coors Light is the beer of choice for people who don't actually like beer, but do want an alcohol buzz. Then, once they're buzzed, they think it's okay to just litter the side of the road by dropping the bottles and cans out of their cars and speeding away. Jerks.

Progress Doesn’t Always Mean Going Forward In A Good Way

I love the future.

The very idea of it, the changes inherent in it, just gives me a thrill. Sometimes it’s a thrill of the wonder of the future and sometimes it’s a thrill of fear, a worry about what comes next.

For the most part, though, I’m always looking forward, anxious to see what new thing will be coming to benefit us, to vex us, to change us. So, yeah, you could say I’m a proponent of progress and moving forward.

(And, if any of you dudes or dudettes figured out by the opening bits that I’m about to talk about an instance in which I’m¬†not¬†thrilled by progress, then, congratulations. You’ve been paying attention for the last couple of years of your life at least.That wasn’t snide, by the way. I mean it. Congratulations on paying attention to the how the world around you works. You’d probably not believe how high is the number of people for whom the world around them is a complete mystery, operating on unknown and ineffable principles. However, I’m just remembering that this is a parenthetical aside and, so, should probably be moving back to the main thrust of my argument.)

In this instance, however, I’m not all that thrilled by the idea of progress. (see above) See, I live in what had been a relatively stable neighborhood. The houses have been here for a relatively long time — since the 1980s at least — almost completely built out. It’s the almost bit that’s causing me some concern here.

See, across the street from the entrance to the cul de sac on which I live, there was one house on a very large piece of property. The owner sold that property to a developer, who then turned around and built 20 homes on that same piece of property. The developer also built a road that connects a larger, more trafficked road, to our road, which runs parallel.

The problem isn’t so much the new neighbors, but the fact that their road allows drivers to circumvent the crowd on the old road by taking ours. And it’s not really the increased traffic. It’s the increased number of numbnuts and jackwagons that seem to be using our road.

They don’t stop at the stop sign (a sizable percentage not even slowing down) despite there being at least 10 kids under 10 years of age living within 100 yards of that stop sign. And there are several who have decided that the yards along our road are not, in fact, yards, but, rather places where they can dump the evidence that they’ve been drinking.

Yep, when I’m out walking with Buzz, The Garbage Disposal That Walks Like A Dog, I constantly find — in the same places every day — empty Coors Light cans, empty and often broken bottles from Icehouse and the occasional Steel Reserve malt liquor can. People toss out empty sixpack containers, still in the bag.

It’s just this blatant disregard for other people that really frosts my chaps, if you dudes know what I mean. The sense of entitlement that they must feel: too important to have to stop at a stop sign despite the danger to others, too important to hide their drinking in their own trashcan.

Now the maroons are starting to dump their empties in actual yards and not just the bits of yards that are further from the homes.

What I want to know is: What goes through someone’s mind where they think that it’s okay to just toss an empty out on someone’s lawn as you’re driving by? Seriously. I want to understand, but I don’t think I ever will.

These types of poltroons just aren’t like the rest of us. Oh, how I really wish I could find out who’s doing it because I have a lot of garbage I’d like to leave on their yard. And, yes, I know two wrongs don’t make a right. But, remember that three rights can make a left.

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Amateur Night

Amateur Night has come round again, dudes.

Be careful out there on the streets because there are far too many people, who incorrectly think they have a handle on their emotions, their ability and their driving skills, who really, really don’t.

Alcohol isn’t to blame for all of that misperception of ability, but it certainly doesn’t help.

And, to make matters even more non-salubrious, New Year’s Evil is full of people out drinking — a lot — who don’t often drink all that much. And, being the kind of people we mostly are, even when we’re stumbling drunk, we’ll never admit it. Which means these amateurs will head out and keep on drinking. Because they’re obviously not even afflected — notevena liddlebt.

If you see where I’m going here.

Of course, not all that sure that the professional drinkers out tonight are any sort of person to emulate, either. People who drink a lot and do it often, might understand they’re impaired, but statistics show that they still get behind the wheel or drunk dial their exes at 3:27 am for sparkling, slobbering conversation with an answering service.

So that’s not all that good.

Listen. I know we’re all headed out, looking for a good time. But understand it’s okay if your good time doesn’t end with you face down in a suburban roadside swale, blowing bubbles with your nose in the stagnant rainwater.

It’s okay to go out, not drink all that much (if at all) and then wake up on Jan. 1 without a blinding hangover. Really, it is.

In fact, it might make you feel slightly more optimistic about the coming new year if you can do a bit more than moan pitifully and weakly wave toward the curtains in the vain hope that you’ll spontaneously develop telekinetic powers and will close the drapes tighter.

Remember, there’s a lot of unsafe amateur drinkers (and even more unsafe professional drinkers) out there tonight: Avoid them. Come home safely and start out the new year the right way: Alive and happy.

#NewYear #HappyNewYear

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