Showing posts with label To Buy You a Gold Ring and a Pretty Dress of Blue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label To Buy You a Gold Ring and a Pretty Dress of Blue. Show all posts

Monday, September 23, 2013

Best Drinking Games ©2011, 2013 by Joe Sixtop all rights reserved

    So the pope,  Merritt Wever, NFL Standings, Rose Byrne and, maybe it was actor Jeff Daniels Michigan (no relation to Jack Daniel's Top), stroll into a bar. I think it was the Magic Eight Ball over on beloved Tenth Avenue (Freeze-Out?). They're intent on playing one of the best new drinking games, it's called SEO Optimization. The bartender, an efficient, personable, young(ish) man named Joe suggested that maybe that trendy activity was washed up and how about a game of These American Servers instead? It's more fun and way cooler. That didn't really happen! I've been working feverishly on some new material but it just isn't ready yet. So here's a slighty edited righteous repost of a blast from the past, including last year's disclaimer. And yeah, I know that if there was a time to rerun this episode it was a couple of weeks ago instead of now but, you know, whatever. And I don't really give much of a rat's ass (just some) about football until the allmighty Saint Louis Cardinals (you know, they play a real sport) are done and right now they appear to be far from that!

    In honor of ESPN's Monday Night Football, and pro football in general, starting back up, here's a (slightly modified) righteous repost from last year that was kind of popular. And by "kind of popular," I really mean "nobody saw it." If you haven't ever checked it out, it's new to you, right? Enjoy!


     Do you ever play drinking games? For example, there's Monday Night Football. Watch Titans at Chargers, for instance, and every time Joe Buck or Mike Tirico or whoever, says, "First down San Diego!" everybody takes a drink. Then there's Fox News, where every time one of their resident douchebags says "Democrat" when they should have said "Democratic," or decries something called Class Warfare (bring it!), your whole crew has to down a shot. I think it's safe to say that either of these drinking games will get anyone playing it fucked up pretty quick and there are a whole lot of other variations out there.
     I don't play drinking games, even when I'm hanging out with people who are. I binge at my own pace and get wasted just fine, thank you. Neither do I advocate drinking games. I think they encourage individuals who already like over-consuming alcohol to get even more hammered than they would if left to their own devices. But if folks are going to play them anyway, I want some of that market share! So here's an awesome new drinking game called These American Servers™. Play at your own risk.
     Everybody get out their internet-connected device. Log onto your favorite search engine. I like ixquick because of their privacy claims, and Google works pretty well too. Have someone call out a phrase or a title from These American Servers™. The first one to find a  reference to my internet column gets to make everybody else take a drink. Or you can deny the others a drink and have one yourself. Remember, and this is very important, you have to actually click on the link to These American Servers or your win isn't official.
     Try different search engines. If you want an easy, fast-paced game, go with Google. If you're trying to not get too blitzed too early, see what Yahoo or Startpage have for ya. They're not as friendly to These American Servers as some of the others are. Maybe you could see what Chinese Google has to offer.
     Whatever alcohol you imbibe when playing These American Servers is up to you. Perhaps the Chili's crew in cooler-than-you-probably-think Tulsa, Oklahoma—where a popular search engine query is "Tulsa OK weather"— enjoy the game with 40 ounce jugs of Schlitz® Malt Liquor after work and you might have a good time with those. Watch out though. That shit is way more powerful than the weak-ass  "light"  beers that so many people are into these days.
     Please don't operate a motor vehicle if you've been playing These American Servers or while you're playing These American Servers. If you run across any rumors that poor, allegedly talented, yet troubled, entertainer Cory Monteith  was playing These American Servers this past July 13, please disregard them because, while Cory (God bless his soul) was an enormous devotee of the fun drinking game based on my struggling internet column, he was kind of superstitious and never played it on the 13th of any month and it was something else that unfortunately took him from us.
     "But Joe," I might be asked if anyone actually read this, "I really want to play These American Servers, but ever since I read your excellent post from December of 2010 entitled "A Righteous Proposal," where you advocate a boycott of adult beverages until America ends its fucktarded "War on Drugs," I've given up drinking. Is there anything that I can do?"
     Well thanks for joining me, my hypothetical brother or sister. Just so you know, I haven't consumed any alcohol since that post went up either and I applaud you for being part of the solution instead of the problem. Together, we can make a difference. As a matter of fact, I do have a couple of suggestions about that. Instead of using Colt 45® say, or bourbon, you could substitute dankity-dank bong hits! Or maybe swap the booze for Caffeiene-Free Diet Pepsi®. Of course, if you go with that last one, you and your friends are probably some irredeemable wussies.

     Oh, yeah: if anybody cares, I got my three comments (and some awesome new LIKES on Facebook!) so here ya go. I bought Sweetie a phone. I kept asking her if she wanted me to or not and she never gave me a yes or no-type answer. Since my policy is if I ask a question and don't get a comprehensible answer (or an answer at all) then the answer is whatever I want it to be, I bought her a phone. I went by myself. I activated it in my name (I felt creepy activating it in her name without her direct consent so I didn't) and paid for the phone, activation and first month's phone bill. One of her passwords is my birthday, one is her birthday. I was assured she can change any of that shit if she wants. The nice guy I dealt with at the store threw in a free song download. I have NO IDEA what she likes musically (since she never would even go drink coffee with me and I've been shut out (like the Montreal Expos will be tonight in Saint Louis!) on my opportunity to converse about such things with her), so I went with a favorite of mine, Bruce Springsteen's best record, "Prove it All Night" which, if Sweetie would be my girlfriend, would get my vote to be our song. What's in it for her (besides me)? Why, a gold ring and a pretty dress of blue, natch, and I'll even throw in a long white bow she can tie her hair back with!


     I keep feeling so compelled to update this thing that I should of just done some all-new material instead. O well. Sweetie is super hella good-looking. She's in NO WAY a gold-digger AT ALL and she's an AWESOME waitress AND she's never asked me for ANYTHING and she's VERY INTELLIGENT, easily enough so to be WELL aware that she's had it within her power to TAKE ADVANTAGE OF ME BIG-TIME (I practically begged her to) yet she never did any of that. The only three drawbacks she has in my eyes are that she doesn't seem to care about me (good or bad) to any significant degree and that she's geeked out on that shit most of the time and she seems to have a really tough time telling people stuff that might hurt their feelings but really needs to be said and I could easily get past those last two. This disclaimer  is being presented because I don't want y'all to get a bad, wrong idea about someone that I think is magically awesome!

Friday, August 30, 2013

To Buy You a Gold Ring and a Pretty Dress of Blue ©2013 by Joe Sixtop all rights reserved

     We don't see my work-friend Ray the cook more than three nights a week at most. He has a day job, something janitorial I think. When he does work with us, he talks about golf a lot. Raymond claims (and I believe him) to be a scratch golfer. In real sports, scratches don't get to participate, but in golf a scratch is a real badass, so in Ray's lexicon a scratch is a fine thing to be indeed. Ray-Ray never utters the word "golf," actually. "My hobby," he says, "my little hobby."
     "Joe." wondered absolutely no one, "do you have any hobbies?"
     "Why yes," I would've answered, "yes I do." Even though I don't think of it as one, what else is These American Servers™ but a hobby? It sure hasn't ever made me any money, nor do I ever expect it to. No boss makes me compose this drivel; no supervisor tells me when, how or even if to present it. Therefore, hobby. But I've also got this other kind-of fun activity that consumes most of my waking moments and has for over two decades now. I started out so shitty at it that I can't believe I didn't just give up but now I'm so good at it I've almost got it mastered. My hobby is trying to quit smoking.
     We had a kind of shitty night at work this evening. A couple of brutal pops were interspersed with some big-time slowness. Plus we were a little shorthanded  on both sides of the expo line. I got kind of stressed during one of the pops. So when it slowed I asked our hostess to not seat me for at least three minutes. I (literally) ran to the nearby ShittyMart™ and bought a pack of Newport 100's.
     I can't recall if I've ever mentioned it to y'all but long-time readers may know that my go-to brand is Marlboro Reds. The Newports weren't for me. I gave them to my totally awesome, incredibly gorgeous co-worker, Sweetie, so that maybe she'll like me. That's not really why I gave her the cigarettes, although if they had that effect I guess I'd have to step up like I'm a man and accept the consequences of my actions.
     Anyway, I wasn't sure how many smokes I'd want; a half-dozen, max. A whole pack  of tasty 'Boros would either go to waste or be consumed by me. I gave Sweetie the entire 20, with the understanding that I could have a few of them back (during that shift) upon request, an arrangement she was totally cool with. I got to smoke a few cigarettes and ease my stress without being a bum or throwing a bunch of product away. Plus it helped Sweetie out a little, something I'm always looking for opportunities to do. We snuck out back for our nicotine fix. As we lit up, I looked into her pretty face. The most beautiful brown eyes I've ever seen sparkled and she flashed me her lovely smile.