The Week In Review
In 1862, a ragtag bunch of Mexican soldiers put a massive ass-whipping on a French army twice its size. This happened on the fifth of May, paving the way for the annual Cinco de Mayo celebration in which non-Mexican individuals, such as myself, use it as an excuse to get totally shitfaced while wearing sombreros. Co-opting another culture’s history as a pretext for getting bombed may not be the classiest thing you can do, but it sure is fun.
We started off the festivities at 6:30, putting sombreros and fake mustaches on the kids, and consuming a near-lethal amount of Mexican take-out. Then the drinks started flowing. By the time they stopped, the sun was coming up and Cinco de Mayo had devolved into Seis de Mayo, a celebration of hazy memories and gargantuan hangovers. Thank God the next time May 5th is on a weekend is 2017. I may have sobered up by then.
As far as drinking holidays go, Cinco de Mayo is very underrated. Here we have the major US holidays ranked in terms of alcohol abuse potential:
- New Year’s Eve – Hands down the big daddy of drinking events. It is the only time of the year that it becomes acceptable to go outdoors at midnight in a drunken stupor and holler at the top of your lungs. And since they’ve legalized fireworks in Arizona, now we have a chance to blow our hands off too. Fun!
- Cinco de Mayo – Most people would rank St. Patrick’s Day as a bigger drinking event, but compare the hatwear: You can wear a sparkly green plastic leprechaun hat, or a kick ass, huge motherfucking sombrero that you can pass out in later. They’re both great holidays, but Cinco de Mayo wins by a hat brim.
- St. Patrick’s Day – I love the Irish: They know how to make great booze, and they know how to drink it as if their liver was on fire. Plus, when they get really tanked (a frequent occurrence), they say hilarious shit like “begorrah”!
Plus, it's a great day to collect incriminating photos of people for future blackmailing purposes.
- Halloween – Nothing says “treasured childhood memory” like a grown man jumping out of the bushes at a bunch of kids with a running chainsaw. And nothing says “police let him off with a warning” like Halloween, the only night of the year lunatic behavior like that is tolerated. So if you’re going to have psychotic fun like that, why do it sober? Have fun with it. Drink grain alcohol and Gatorade from a paint bucket, and run around the neighborhood throwing cow eyeballs at children. Seriously, you can buy cow eyeballs at a butcher shop. Fucking awesome.
- Thanksgiving – Thanksgiving is a day of giving thanks, especially for the fact that you don’t have to go to work tomorrow. Because between football and dealing with obnoxious family members, you’re going to get plastered.
- Christmas – A lot of people feel that getting drunk on Christmas is almost sacrilegious, but these people aren’t exactly running over to your house to set up your kids fucking toys for them, are they? You’ve got the toys with 700 parts, the ones that need enough batteries to power Peru (and always oddball types, like G cells), and then the ones where they wrap everything in plastic so tightly that it takes hours to get the packaging off only to discover that some prick felt it necessary to also use those fucking grey wires to tie it all together. “Junior, go get daddy a blowtorch and a bottle of vodka.”
- July 4th – “Celebrate your country’s independence by blowing up a small portion of it.” Booze + Explosives = Awesome.
- Labor Day/Memorial Day – These aren’t very good days to drink on because they always fall on a Monday. You want to honor someone, you put their holiday on a fucking Friday! It’s just common sense. (Note to the NFL: The Super Bowl should be on Saturday for the same reason.)
This is your fault, National Football League!
- Mother’s Day/Father’s Day – Again, always on a day immediately preceding a work day. Plus your kids feel the need to thrust burnt eggs at you at six in the morning, which means that you don’t get a lot of sleep to boot. Thanks, kids.
- Columbus Day – We used to get this day off when I was in school. Now, I’m not even sure I know what month it’s in. I just remember that stupid rhyme: “In fourteen hundred and ninety-two, Columbus sailed the ocean blue.” Well, good for him. Where’s the scotch?
- Easter – People get MAD when you show up for an Easter event trashed. Look, I’ve got to wear the fucking bunny outfit, so I’m gonna have a few stiff drinks, ok?
No, I don't have any fucking candy for you kid! Now go get the bunny another beer before I fill your basket with pellets.
- Martin Luther King Day – I, like any right-thinking person, believe that civil rights are important, and that all individuals should be treated equally, regardless of race, gender, or sexual orientation. But running around drunk yelling, “Woo-hoo! Judge people not on the color of their skin, but on the content of their character! Yeaaaaah! Wooooo-hooooo!” is just idiotic.
On to what you missed the last two weeks because you got too fucking trashed on Flag Day. (I missed last week’s Week in Review because I was very busy, had too much to do, and felt like a lazy sack of shit when writing time came around on Sunday evening. Sue me.)
- Two Tuesdays ago, I once again admitted to taking part in flagrantly illegal and incomprehensibly stupid behavior. Good times, good times.
- Two Wednesdays ago, I went off on people just trying to make a living, because I’m a dick.
- Two Thursdays ago, my iPhone arrived, and I asked a robotic woman if she’d ever done it with more than two dudes.
- Last Tuesday, I vowed to violently slay anyone who tried to make me see the Wizard of Oz again. And then Vesta pointed out that there is a remake in the works, which my kids are going to undoubtedly want to see. Thanks, Vesta.
- Last Wednesday, I learned that the direct approach works best.
- Last Thursday, oh-would-it-be-possible-to-drop-me-off-near-there-I-live-right-near-there-my-roommate-just-dropped-me-off.
- And last Friday, CUNTFLAPS!
Now that I’ve built up a massive audience of up to ten whole people, it’s time to cash in on my fame. Unfortunately, PepsiCo informed me that, “We regretfully will not be able to pursue a joint venture between PepsiCo and your website at this time. It is our opinion that your ‘writing’ is juvenile, does not attract a key demographic consisting of people without extensive brain damage, and that thing you wrote about fucking owls was the most revolting thing we’ve ever read. Do not contact us again.” So, it’s Involuntary Advertising:
And finally, our poll results are in:
[poll id=”13″]
As you can see, the McDonald’s character people believe would be most likely to be bumping uglies with farm animals is Mayor McCheese. No surprise there, politicians are like that. One minute they are promising you that that they will honestly and honorably move our nation forward, and the next minute you’re discovering that they have a hidden broccoli-stuffing fetish. (I think that’s what brought down Nixon, actually. Not Watergate, but cramming vegetables.)
It’s another wonderful week. Enjoy it, everyone. Even those of you who bang owls.
Bwa ha ha ha. Screw you Pepsi. I know I still have a few functioning brain damage after all those alcohol soaked holidays. Thank you so very much for the idea with the cow eyeballs. That shit is gold.
When I learn where to legally obtain realistic looking fingers, I’ll let you know.
i love your writing. you make me laugh. I like laughing. i like pepsi, but I don’t drink soda…sooo. you win. 🙂
Ooh! What do I win? I hope it’s money, because those deadbeats at Pepsi sure aren’t forking over any dough.
Any holiday where I have to call my parents are the big drinking ones for me… no way can I have a conversation with those people without booze flowing. I also tend to get good Angry Birds scores when I’m on the phone with them.
I’m waiting for realistic Artificial Intelligence for a similar reason. “Greg-bot, take my calls.”
Isn’t Siri meant to help with that?
She’s not proactive enough.
My favourite drinking event is “Saturday night at the medieval festival”
It is cold enough to freeze your balls together so you head straight to the mead and then fuck around with the fire breathers.
My favorite drinking event is drinking when you’re not supposed to. I almost never get to do it any more, but when I was in my 20’s, it was a staple. Beer tastes SO much better when you’re not supposed to be drinking, like, Tuesday at noon.
“Beer tastes SO much better when you’re not supposed to be drinking, like, Tuesday at noon.”
I did that today, but with bourbon. Mixed with codeine, the afternoon drifts along nicely.
Hmmm, I have to be careful with pain pills, because I like them too much, but one year I watched the first two rounds of March Madness on Percocet, and it was fan-fucking-tastic.
When I was probably 7 years of age, which made my brother 4, we were accosted on Halloween by a neighbor who dressed like a Samurai and had what I believe was a real Samurai sword. Because this was 1971-ish and Target had not even been invented yet. Plastic fake ones did not exist like they do now. Oh the parents thought it was HILARIOUS.
Sorry, I was going through a weird period in my life.