Leaving the club with 20 girls is grounds for gettin' yourself on the naughty list.Read More
Best whiskey drinkin' playlist in the game, dog.
Inspired by Tom Hardy's sweater-on-sweater-on-sweater wardrobe in Lawless, "Untitled" quickly became Winter 2014's whiskey drinking playlist of choice in the Sunday Scaries household.
Is this usually followed up by a day of listening purely to Sunday Night Kill Myself? Yes, yes it is. But Tom Hardy summed up fighting the Scaries pretty much perfectly —
By Old Man Body
One time when I was 19, I went on a bachelor party for a cousin that was a few years older than me. My family is tight knit, in business together, so my cousins are all like brothers and sisters to me. We all went to the same school, like our dads did before us, and we were all in the same fraternity. There was a secret drink that the watering hole we blacked out at every night in undergrad served and I thought I’d get cute and throw it out at the bachelor party: the Mullet Bomb.
What’s a Mullet Bomb, OMB? Well, the Mullet Bomb is a drop shot of Wild Turkey into Blatz/Schlitz/Busch Light. Just an absolute Mind Eraser of a drink. I ordered a million of them at a backwoods bar we were at for the bachelor party and somebody ended up making me drink three of them back to back to back. That ended my night, I threw up everywhere and we had to bounce after somebody won $500 on pulltabs and I painted the bathroom in vomit. I didn’t drink whiskey for 5 years after that. When my friends were drinking Scotch or bourbon, I was drinking Stoli on the rocks (single night record at the watering hole, nine doubles straight in three hours.)
However, I bounced back and got back on the whiskey train. And now living in Bourbon Country, I’ve come to appreciate America’s signature liquor and you should too. Somehow, Wild Turkey 101 has clawed its way back into my number one utility bourbon, when a few years ago I’d dry heave just smelling it. My call to you is simple: Kentucky bourbon will solve all of your problems. You can get it cheaper than Scotch (and it’s more potent.) It drinks well neat, on the rocks, or mixed with Diet Coke (Beam and Diet is my rail drink of choice.)
I’m not going to offer detailed reviews on anything because people get passionate about their bourbon and I’ll never tell anyone they’re wrong about what tastes good to them. But here’s what I’m digging on lately in regards to bourbon:
Woodford Reserve. Best bourbon for your money, hands down. Distillery tour is a must. Feeling bougie? Go Double Oaked.
Buffalo Trace. My favorite sipping bourbon, and it’s generally around $24/bottle so it doesn’t break the bank
Wild Turkey 101. Yeah, I like getting fucked up, deal with it. It gets me there and it’s a great utility bourbon.
Angel's Envy. Easily my favorite bourbon, especially to drink neat. The story I was told was that someone left the Woodford Distillery and made Angel’s Envy. I don’t know that if that’s true or not, but at $45/bottle, it’s going to be your top shelf shit in your dry bar.
Jim Beam. Mix it with Coke, whatever, it will get you where you’re trying to go. Ideal for making a Gamechanger.
Maker’s Mark. Do you like to advertise that you’re a basic bitch? Because I don’t. Maker’s Mark is to bourbon what Grey Goose is to vodka: all hype. It goes down easy and they’ve marketed it incredibly well. Buffalo Trace or Wild Turkey are infinitely better.
Basil Hayden’s. Can’t end on a bad note with Maker’s like that. Basil will go down smooth and it gets overlooked more than it deserves.
...which sport would it be?
Uh, Arnie, Jack, Tiger, Sunday Scaries? Yeah, that sounds pretty fuckin' nice to me. Rollin' around in my Benz golf cart sippin' mules and blasting long drives into the ocean from my deck? YUP.
Well, those were my initial thoughts, at least. But then drunk me had a revelation: surfer. Blonde luscious flow, sunkissed skin, always on the water, jacked as hell purely from shredding, Reef Girls. And be the GOAT to boot? That sounds fuckin' choice. And at the end of the day, you're living in a tropical climate that's probably littered with five-star golf courses that you can afford because you're rich as fuck from being a sick surfer.
At the end of the day, I can't decide between being Roy McAvoy or Johnny Tsunami. So,
Recounting November 9th, 2014: a gambler's NFL Sunday.Read More
Even though I'm protesting The Voice because they hate Contemporary Reggae/kicked Menlick off, this is still a viable question. My HOT TAKES:
The dude wins. Simple as that.
She's 45 and still somehow a bagillion times hotter than any girl that's ever looked at me. Would love to have her coaching me.
Dude is CONNECTED. Straight up knows EVERYONE in the business.
Dude is married to a fucking Victoria's Secret model. If you get in with him, then you're getting invited to his Christmas parties, which are probably overflowing with tens.
It's like Hemingway said: "Write drunk, edit sober." He probably didn't actually say this but I'm too lazy to check Snopes and find out. Anyway, this is a new feature where the drunk version of myself writes down questions after a night out, and the sober version of myself responsibly transcribes the questions and answers them.
Has anyone answered "no" to the question, "Are you good to drive?" This question yields two responses - "Yeah, I'm fine!" and *unintelligible mumbling* that signals that the person is obviously not "good to drive." If someone has already mentally committed to leave a bar or party, do you really think they're going to renege on that and say, "You know, you're right. I should wait this one out." Alcohol breeds confidence and confidence breeds failure to admit you're hammered. The only move is to distract hammered people and steal their keys so they are either forced to walk home or pass out on the floor somewhere.
Do you think Beyonce gets self-conscious when Jay-Z tells her that he's going to the studio to record with Rihanna? 100% yes. I bet Jay has a complete separate iPhone that Rihanna is supposed to call when they need to record purely because he doesn't want traces of her on the phone Beyonce goes through when he's showering. Actually, it's probably not even an iPhone - it's probably an LG sliding burner phone which prompts some Frank-Underwood-House-of-Cards shit that Jay has to do in order to get to the studio. Rihanna is a mach-10 freak and for Beyonce to just ignore that would be flat out irresponsible.
Think you'll ever be rich enough to hire a model whose only job is to unwrap Starbursts for you? No.
My last two Tinder exchanges have gone terribly. Like, I sound like the most virgin-y virgin you've ever met.
"Rock, paper, scissors."
The sad thing is, I actually thought these were baller as fuck at the time. "Rock, paper, scissors" seemed like a playful way to lead into a conversation. Until she responded with the scissors emoji and I had nothing to respond with. I ended up just unmatching her for not calling me out for being a total square.
I could tell you that "Hi" happened because my BAC was sky-high, but even that doesn't justify it. Minkus from Boy Meets World has more game than that.
So, what's your best Tinder line?
The first time I heard about Blue Is The Warmest Colour was summer 2013 when it won the Palm D'or at Cannes. This screams artsy AF. You know you're on some next-level shit when the front of the movie is littered in palm trees with foreign words between them. Spielberg was even the head judge at Cannes for this puppy. And because he's Dawson Leary's favorite director, he's definitely one of my favorite directors too. Needless to say, I was pretty fuckin' psyched when I saw this available on Netflix.
But, before you jump right in like I did, beware.
It's long as fuck. The last romance movie I saw that was 3 hours long was Titanic, so now wonder Spielberg fucking liked it. I mean, if you average out my favorite romance movies, it comes to like 96 minutes. At one point, there's a five-minute scene where Adele, who is a school teacher, just watched a bunch of little twerps reading about elephants. Unless something was just lost in translation, I'm pretty sure they could have left that on the cutting room floor.
The lesbian scenes are AGGRESSIVE. When I hear "lesbian scene", my mind just defaults to Wild Things. Just two chicks kissing in a pool. No no no no no. These scenes are ass-slappin' freakfests with no music. Legit just moaning and skin slapping for upwards of 10 minutes straight. The last NC17 movie I saw was Spawn in my friend's basement at his 7th grade birthday party. And I assure you, this was much more deserving of the NC17 tag than fuckin' Spawn was.
Adele's mouth is open and her hair is messy the entire movie. Like, her mouth is just open. She doesn't shut it. She's a mouth-breather whose mouth is just too small for her teeth or something. There's a constant dumbfounded look on her face. And her hair is constantly in a messy man-bun like she thinks she's Jared Leto or something. I just don't really get it.
There's a character who makes a career switch from an actor to a ...dentist? This is THE most bullshit career move I've ever heard. You don't just go from being a hotshot actor in New York to a fuckin' dentist because you "don't like being told what to do." Calling bullshit on that one, bro. You can just tell us that you couldn't hack it. We're free of judgement here.