The best and the funniest!

The best and the funniest!

Best decisions I’ve made while drunk:

* Singing Selena at a karaoke bar.
* Taking my heels off and walking barefoot down four downtown blocks.
* Starting a wet t-shirt contest at a TGIFridays. (I won and lost at the same time. Long story.)
* Letting someone with shaky hands attempt a body shot on me. (I ended up wearing 75% of it.)

What are some of the best drunk decisions you’ve made? Let us hear ’em!

~ Grog



I do so solemnly swearr that I am on cosmopolitan number 4. 

I am Fuhhhhhhhed up, y’all. You know the great thing about the phrase y’all? And let’s not kid ourselves, it’s a phrse more than a contraction of the words “Upi” and “all”. No, wait, that’s not right, it’s “you” and “all”. I fat fingered the keyboar. Keyboard.


I spent the batter half of the night waiting for my fiancé to come home and drink withme and then I watched Masterpiece Theatre with my soon to be in laws, and you know what? It was fucking awesome! We totally stayed up until 1130 now itsss 130 and my fiance and ai are drunk as HELL and he totally did a party foul and spilled his cosmo on the floor and we were sad until we remember ed thatterher were more cosmos. 


Do you’s now what it’s like when you’re so frubnk that you cry over shit that you should;t? I’m passed that point now. Seriously, I already cried. True story: I am not watching when I’m typing this whole sentence lalalalalalalalalala

Hell yeah! I did that with NO TYPS. 


Oh, fuck. No, no typose. No–No typos!!! Yay! 


I’m gonna drink number 5. I think it’s number f5. 

Also, y’all, I atae a twinkie, and it was AWMAESING. That’s a combination of awesome and amazing, by the way. FJcl I shouldn’t be writing.


Fuzzy and all that shit,



Grog here.


So, for those that don’t know, I’m on a CoEd kickball league.

We play every Thursday night.

Our goal?

To get shit-faced. And to win. But, primarily, to get shit-faced.

During the course of the game, I had two pints of beer. I kicked ass and scored two runs.

Couldn’t have too much to drink, as someone decided to bring their kids, as seen in the photo. Party-fucking-spoilers.

Don’t get me wrong – I love kids. Just not at 9pm at night when I have a cooler packed full of delicious beer and jello shots. I look forward to this game every week and there had always been an unspoken rule about creatures under three feet tall: if it’s not on a leash, we don’t want it here. Guess that was forgotten this week.

Regardless, we played and we played hard.

We won the FUCK outta that shit.

We’re now celebrating with straight shots of vodka.

If it weren’t for spell check and autocorrect, this post would be utter nonsense. I’m doing this from my phone, can you believe it? Technology is fuckin amaze-balls.

So, all this booze has got me thinking…

What is it about competition that motivates us? Do I really want to pummel that bitch on second base? Or is that some latent, primal instinct that normally lays dormant inside me but is somehow triggered when a red, rubber ball is placed in my hand?

Oh, we’re playing kickball? I thought this was dodgeball. Sorry for throwing this directly in your face. Perhaps you shouldn’t paint black stripes under your eyes and get a manicure on the same day, second base, because I will eat you alive. I have all day to look pretty. Right now, I’ve got blood-lust and I’m ready to score a run, regardless of where you plant yourself.

Oh, were you safe? Huh. Ball must have slipped out of my hands and slammed into your frontal lobe. Damn inertia! Can’t stop that shit once it’s in motion!

Oh, our second round of shots just arrived.

If you can excuse me for a minute, I’ve got a Kamikaze to throw back.

Rainbows and sunshine out the ass.

~ Grog


Sometimes you write poetry while you’re fucked up–and sometimes it’s amazing, just because, y’know, you’ve got the goods. For those of you who don’t care for poetry, this post isn’t for you. Or it will be. Go drink more, then get back to me. This shit is real when you’re effed.



Above me lay the night sky,

The clouds with splendor deep,
The whirlwinds of the breeze,
The shadow’s chilling creep.

I watched the pavement pass,
Under each softly falling shoe,
The blurs becoming solid,
Of a sedimentary hue.

The branches bare of growing,
Our minds like smoke clogged flasks,
But on this nighttime feeling,
Exists no will to ask.

The pavement rose to meet me,
Yet I fell just as fast,
And suddenly I could but stare,
Into distant morning’s past.

The world unearthed, and tilted,
My vision slanted in,
A drug induced euphoria,
To remind me of my sin.

And somehow in this emptiness,
This vacancy of thought,
My mind is still but stirred,
To bring forth the sadness wrought.

Hollowness inside these bones, 
Leaks forth like a sieve,
Dripping out from vacant eyes,
On such a way to live-


I 100% guatrantee that I am drunk as fuck while writing this and that NONE of it is proofread.

If you didn’t read that in Timon’s voice from The Lion King then you clearly have not watched it recently. I, for one, have.


I have been drinking for the past three hours…with my fiancé, of course, so I’m not a total lush, okay? We’re three bottles of wine in an wishing that we’d bought more. I didn’t anticipate that ew could go through three so easily. We’re sitting here discussing such dystopian topics as the future and wonderin where that leaves us in the long wrong. Whoa. I meant run. I don’t know why it came up like thiat.

Look, this is harder than it seems, okaY ? Seriouisly, I had so much wine, and we’re sitting here listening to Mega Man music, because that’s how boss we are. We get drunk and listen to Mega Man music and it always makes me feel like I’m in the middle of  aboss fight. I wonder if I’d win though, if I were really Iin a boss fight. I bet I’d wind up curled in a ball on the floor begging for mercy. It’s not that I’m not tough—no, maybe it is. I’m not tough. I like to pretend I am, but then I get a splinter or a hangnail and that façade is fucking over, you dig? No one’s tough fwhen it comes to that. Or tiny pimples. Tiny pimples are simply the worst thing to ever happen to a human being. The only thing worse is a tiny pimple directly under your nostril, and when you try and pop it it makes your eyes water. THOSE are the worst.

How do you type the soundswhen you make helicopter noises with your mouth? Like pfewewewewewew I don’t know. Honestly, no—wait, airplane noises? Maybe. Something rotary, I don’t know. Why nisn’t there a character for every sounds that your mouth makes? It’s unbelievable that whoa, I cazn’t believe I spelled that right. But it’s unbelievable that every book at we have ever read is comprised of 26 letters. That’s it. PEW. MIND BLOWN. But I guess it’s also equally cool that everything in our bodies is mainly carbon. Carbon. Is. The. Bomb. Diamonds are carbon, and I love them. Dogs are also sommat carbon, and I love them too. Carbon. Who knew?

Yesterday…no, wait, not yesterday, the day before, I went and saw Turbo, and guess what? It was fucking cute. I’ve never liked snails before. I’ve always just sort of, y’know, tolerated them, I guess. It’s not like you ever see a snail and you’re just like, “Whoa, it’s a snail, how cool!”, because basically you’re a liar if you said that. Unless yhou’re an entomologist or some shit. Wait, snails are gastropods, right? Whatever. I bet insect scientists study them. ANYWAY

Turo was cute, and it literally had me on edge when the little dude was in the Indianapolis 500. You know who friggin made that movie though? Paul goddamn Giamatti. You would know him from such insanely cool films as Shoot ‘em Up, if you’re on the level. I’m going to assume you’re not and you need to go see that movie right now, because let me tell you what—it’s  an hour and a half of mindless violence, sex, and crappy puns, and it’s AMAZING. I make everyone I know watch it. WATCH IT.

Anywya, this is probably nonsense. I can’t remeber my original point. OH YEAH. Idiocracy is high up on my list of movies to see. It’s pretty much a fortuneteller of the future, you hear? We’re gonna go and watch it now, if we can stop listening to such grooooovy tunes as Duff McWhalen. I don’t know. Maybe we’re gonna drink some more or something. YOu should look up everything in this article that I’ve named because it’s all relevant and AWESOEM.

Did I mention it was awesome? Because it totally is. Also, don’t drink kids, because it totally fucks with your head. Wait unti; your braincells are fully developed efore you kill them. We’re gonna listen to Shield Sheldon now, and if you don’t know what that is, may god have mercy on your deprived soul.

Until next time, boys and girls, (and you bet your ass there is a nexst time.)

Keep it fuzzy,