It’s 4th of July people… yeah, you know what that means: you’ll be guzzling whatever cheap pisswater your second best BFF has so generously [not] spent a ton of money on at his shitty BBQ. And oh, you won’t be complaining about it. Cuz any hooch that’s bite-ass cold (and gets you buzzed) has got to be ok, right? It’s like a broke-ass, glory days of Freshman year redux only, it happens every year ’til you check out. You sure as shit know Dave has him a kitchen fridge teaming with ice cold Leffe, Old Engine Oil, Chimay Blue and Lagunitas. But you, Mr. 4th of July Party Guest, ain’t gettin’ none of it!. You’ll be relegated to quenching your thirst with this jizz above as you freeze your hand off deep-diving into a ginormous Coleman cooler of some sort. Oh well, the shit is free, right? It can’t be all bad.
Regular readers will no doubt be aware that I’m a big fan of Gawker media sites. Gizmodo rocking my top spot. Whoever the geniuses are behind the content management system over there, they’re brilliant. Gizmodo frequently toes the line between tech-talk and booze and boobs. Both of the latter categories frequently require scientific examination from my perspective. So, I guess they do have some kind of rational basis for these kinds of posts.
It’s that time of year again… aching, wheezing, coughing up loogies – the shakes, fevers and sore throats. For the first time in several years, I neglected to get a Flu shot and sure enough, I got hit with it badly. Nursing a two day old 103 degree temperature, my doc was kind enough to save me a trip to the E.R. and phone in a prescription for Tamiflu. He rocks. Keep in mind though, there is no such thing as a sick day in this business.