The Drunken Blog

Have you ever heard a phrase, most likely carelessly juxtaposed, and thought, “that needs to be the title for something – I don’t know what; I don’t know why, but it must be.” A quick Google search tells me that apparently I am unique in this thought.

One would think in the seemingly infinite amount of Simpson’s episodes that Homer would have inexplicably muttered the phrase, though I imagine that “sex”, for the sake of appeasement, would have been replaced with “Mmm” (my book antiqua font doesn’t do the word justice, but pretend it is moaned in a sexy woman’s voice) and French toast with “beer” and you’ll see that, in fact, Homer has been saying this phrase for year – they just haven’t named any episodes after it.
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Does that make me unpatriotic?

[update: the picture wasn’t showing in IE for some reason, I have obviously fixed it, but sorry for any confusion.]

I work in one of the main buildings for a rather large consulting firm. We don’t have the entire building, but we do have our name on the outside of it, which means that we pay the most rent and have the majority of the building. There are 18 floors and I work on the fifth.

Now, I mentioned that I work for a consulting firm, but just like any other consulting firm, they do other things as well. But the fact that we are mainly consultants makes for a certain work environment. Most of the people working here are young professionals, recently graduated from college and pretty bright. The problem is, all of these cats work on the client site as opposed to the home office. That means that all of the kids my age don’t actually work in my building, for the most part.

The people that work in my building are generally accountants, HR, senior executives, etc. Basically an older crowd; a crowd you would expect to be more professional than the young guns going out getting plastered every night and crawling their way into work the next day. The people that you see around the office are pretty much the stereotypical people you would expect to see when you think of “the business world”.

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Super Bowls hardly ever interest me. The Redskins haven’t made it to one in over 15 years and the way they are playing it looks like it will be another 15 years before they make it back to one. The commercials are getting worse and worse (though this year was a marked improvement over last year), and generally I could care less about the teams involved.

This year was different. The Patriots went into the game 18-0, all they needed to do was win one more game to make meaning of their undefeated season up to that point. With every fiber of my being I wanted the Patriots to lose. Normally I wouldn’t care about an AFC team, and as much as I like the ’72 Dolphins, I don’t really care about their record remaining intact. But after what the Patriots did to the Redskins, running up the score 52-7, converting twice on fourth down when they were already up by 20+ points, I lost all respect for Bill Belichick and wanted nothing more than to see the Patriots go down.
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I would hardly call my self a philanthropist; I hardly have enough money to be a me-anthropist, but I like to give when I can. So on MLK day my work sponsored a company wide day of service. Their pitch was “Make it a day on, not a day off.” Of course, the option was to do my normal job for the day or do the volunteer work. Although, I’m hesitant to even call it volunteer work, since I was paid my normal rate for it.

The day of service began with a four hour brainwashing meeting to get us in the mood for the day. We basically learned how good MLK was and how good my company is, then we learned how good we all could be if we just did more things for our community.
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Recently I’ve been playing Scrabble on Facebook. It’s a great way to pass the time when I’m bored at work. I don’t exactly have the giganticist vocabulary, but one of the things I’ve found out is that there are a lot of words out there that I didn’t realize were words until I tried to make them work playing scrabble.

For instance, I was about to play the word “HOUR.” Since the H was on a triple letter score I would have gotten 15 points for the word. But directly following the R was a double word score. All I had to do was add on an S and I would have 32 points instead of 15. But I didn’t have an S, all I had was a bunch of I’s. So, blindly I added an I to the end of HOUR to make the word HOURI.

HOURI is a real word. I didn’t realize it was a real word until Scrabble told me it was. I guessed that it was pronounced “HOUR-EE,” like the word hour plus the letter E. I then went and looked up the definition of the word because I knew the person I was playing against would try to call me out.

It turns out if you are Muslim and you go on a suicide bombing run, each of your 72 virgins is called a houri. The alternate definition is “a voluptuous and alluring woman.”

After reading the definition of the word, my pronunciation instantly changed to “WHORE-EE,” it’s amazing what a little context will do to your vocabulary.

I was having a conversation with a good friend of mine the other day via IM. He recently became involved with a girl he met via myspace, a very attractive girl. Now, I’ve never even considered using myspace to meet girls. I’m too jaded from all of those fake friend requests I get from girls that try to get me to go to their nude pay-websites.

It’s easy for me to sort out the riff-raff because I’m a guy, and hot girls typically don’t have to go out looking for guys, the guys find them, so if a hot girl does try to friend me, chances are they just want me to pay to go to their website. Attractive girls, on the other hand, have their hands full with filtering out the shady guys.

Trying to set yourself apart from the crowd is not an easy thing to do. How do you make that cute girl respond to your message as she is deleting everybody else’s

What do you say to a girl you want to meet?

This is what my conversation was about with my friend. His response was simply to say, “Hey, what’s up?” that, however, seems to be way too easy, so I took it upon myself to figure out the ultimate pickup line for girls on social networking sites.

After much time, thought, deliberation, and research, the line I discovered is:
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One year ago today I started blogging. At the time, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, I just thought it would be cool to document my cross country trip. Then I decided that it would be fun to upload what I had written to the Internet so that anybody watching at home would know just what sort of debacle I was getting myself into.

Originally, I had registered rbf2000.com through Microsoft for free, but it was very limited in what I could do. I had to edit HTML and upload new pages every time I wrote. I had to manually update the table of contents. It wasn’t too bad when I only had 10 posts or so, but it quickly go cumbersome. Coupled with the fact that people couldn’t just go to rbf2000.com to see my blog, I decided that a new website was in order.

I tried to find a central focus for what my blog would be about, and I noticed that up to that point, a lot of my posts had involved drinking. It’s not easy finding an empty domain name anymore, so when I found thedrunkenblog.com I was pretty excited. I registered it right then for two years. I then did some research and found there was a better way to blog, there were applications out there that would do everything for you. I am currently using wordpress, which does everything very nicely.

It is now a year since my original post, and about 6 months that this website has been alive. So, with that in mind, I thought I would try to round up some of the better posts of the over 150 that I have done in this past year.

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I don’t have anything to say about this.

This is very off topic, but I thought you might get a kick out of it.

I made this website many years ago.  I’m not even sure when I started it (at least 1997), but the last time I updated it was over 5 years ago.  I remember at one point I had a huge pokémon section on there (cut me some slack, this was when I was in 7th grade).  But my crowning achievement is by fat the PAF section of the site.  PAF, of course, stands for People Against Furbys, and it’s just me and my friend thinking of different ways that we could eradicate a furby. 

The pictures were actually taken when I was in about 1997, when I was in 6th grade a decade ago.  Wow, time flies.  I think the scariest thing is that even though I haven’t touched the site in 5 years, it’s still up.  It kind of makes me wonder what else has gotten left behind on the Internet.