Slanket Is Soft, Doesn’t Get You Laid

Posted on October 31, 2007

So there’s this mutation of a blanket that someone has created, calling it a Slanket. I found it on some other blog that posts similar useless items, and here’s what they had to say

The Slanket ($45) is cool (or warm) enough to be billed as “the best blanket ever.” Made from super-soft polyester microfiber and sporting two oversized sleeves, the Slanket is certainly a wonder.

While I may not agree that this thing is certainly a wonder, it certainly has me wondering. Not only is the Slanket hideously unattractive, I can’t see how you’d get a gorgeous babe in there with you, let alone two of them. Then it dawned on me that most peoples day-to-day lives aren’t like mine at all, filled with random afternoon threesomes, gorgeous babes, pounds of Columbia’s finest and liver damaging amounts of booze. So I’d like to take another angle if you will. How are you supposed to even lay yourself in one of these things? Especially since if you own one, you’re probably still living with your mother. Hiding your hands underneath this thing while watching reruns of Golden Girls looks harder than fitting in one of those gorgeous babes I was talking about. I’ve been sobering up a bit for the last week. That’s my excuse for this post being garbage. After re-reading this I have only one thing to say: I’m so sorry booze, I’ll never turn my back on you again.

Apologies to the reader,
Edward H.

The Frail. They’re a Band

Posted on October 11, 2007

I just got this album the other day. It’s an EP from The Frail. Four songs total, so no matter what it’s not going to waste much of your time. I think it’s pretty good. I’m not dying to tell you about it, but what else am I going to write about all totally sober in the middle of a weekday? The only other thing that comes to mind is Burger King, but that’s because as soon as I finish writing this, I’m going to go get some…The Frail - Count On This

Whisky, Women, Wednesday

Posted on October 10, 2007

Somewhere in this photo there’s a bottle of 15-Year Glenfiddich Solera Reserve. There’s no prize if you can find it, because if you do find it — you’re looking in the all the wrong places. However, this post is about that very same bottle. The whisky experts have this to say about it…

The richly layered Glenfiddich 15 Year Old single malt Scotch whisky is matured in three types of oak cask: sherry, bourbon and new oak, before being married in our unique, handcrafted Solera vat. The Solera vat is never emptied but is always kept at least half full. Here, flavours are harmoniously married, creating a whisky of character and intense complexity.

I’m sure I have no idea what they’re talking about, but if by Solera vat they mean a giant cup of whisky, mine is also never empty. I tasted the oak after drinking it too, but that was probably because of the bite I took out of my floor after slamming the whole bottle. It’s sort of expensive if you’re the kind of person that takes public transit (post about that coming soon), so this write-up is really just here to sound classy, expensive, and I saw this photo of all these babes and needed an excuse to post it. In fact, I never even had a bottle of the 15-Year Glenfiddich, it was just some cleaning agent mixed with water and orange juice from concentrate… because I take the bus too.

With Character and Intense Complexity,
Edward H.

P.S. Friday, if you’re reading this: I’ll see you soon!

Flight Of The Conchords??

Posted on October 7, 2007

I’m not completely sure if I should be posting this or not. This is mainly because I haven’t convinced myself that I actually like these guys.  I smoked a considerable amount last night and at the time they seemed funny. Although, they probably aren’t that funny. Today I managed to get a copy of ‘If Thats What You’re Into‘, and I did sneak a laugh (surprisingly sober this time).

Flight Of The Conchords are New Zealand’s fourth most popular guitar-based digi-bongo acapella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo. And just to clarify, that is a self proclaimed title.They have a television show on HBO. You might want to check it out (if thats what your into).

Let’s Make Bad Decisions Tonight!

Posted on October 5, 2007

Well, well. It seems like it took forever, but I knew it would be Friday again at some point. Now then, at any moment I expect the weekend to show up at my door, bottle in hand. So I’ll make this quick, it’s Friday Time Music Surprise! What does this mean for me? Drowning my liver in the most delicious and respectable force this planet has ever seen, and probably having the best time ever. You can bet that there will be lots of babes out, and I’d let it ride that most of them will want to follow me back to my place. Why? Because I dress like this on Friday nights. What does this all mean for you? It means I’ll upload a few songs you can dance to. I’m going to give you two, just in case I don’t make it alive to Saturday and you need something else to listen to. By next Friday, if I’m still nowhere to be seen, assume the worst and move on to someone else. You know I would.

Bjork - Who Is It (Vitalic Remix)

VHS or Beta - Burn It All Down

Wish me luck!
Edward H.

Me? Drunk? There’s a 92% Chance

Posted on October 4, 2007

Sailor Jerry Spiced Rum. It’s delicious, reasonably priced, and conveniently high in alcohol content. This stuff is flavoured with so much goodness that it doesn’t require the time-tested palate for alcohol I have, so even you and your underage friends can enjoy it. Sailor Jerry is 92 Proof — which means when you open a bottle there’s a 92% chance you’re going to get douchebag wasted. It’s the perfect staple for any night of the week, because let’s face it, if you’re not drunk 92% of the time, what are you doing with your life? Baby Jesus only gave you one youth and one liver for a reason, so: put them both to good use and drown in a bottle.

With Rum & Rum,
Edward H.

Not The Way I See It

Posted on October 4, 2007

I like my coffee how I like my women. Hot, foreign, and with nothing important to say. Starbucks is intent on ruining this for me, and they’ve proved as much with their The Way I See It series printed on every cup. How dare you defile my grumpy morning caffeination with your horrible tokens of motivation. They’re often gooey motivational, new age, and more importantly: not written by me. I plan to release my own collection of coffee cups entitled What You Really Need. Some ideas I’ve kicked around are prices of hookers based on which corner they work, instructions to look under the cup where I’ve hidden a flap of coke, and ex-girlfriend’s phone numbers. Oh sure I’m just copying my diary, but it’s hard to be clever when you’re high on coke running out the door to pick up some hookers and call your ex crying about what’s wrong with your life.

But it’s only Thursday,
Edward H.

So You Want to be Famous and Get Girls: A Guide to the Beach

Posted on October 2, 2007

1. Okay. First things first. Get ridiculously attractive, work out constantly, and tan all day everyday.
Note: If you don’t (or can’t) do this, well… go pour yourself a drink, turn off your computer, and carry on doing whatever simpleton task you were doing before.

Alright, now that we got those unattractive losers off our bulging backs, let’s get down to it. You’re hot, you’re jacked, and goddammit, you’re flexible.

2. Don’t drive to the beach. Get some poor sap to tow you there. You’re going to be (if not already) famous, remember? You’re better than he is.

3. Yeah. Enjoy it. Never, ever, wear a shirt.

4. Once at the beach, start by impressing the babes by working out with a child. Sure, it’s just one. But everyone knows you could lift at least eight. Maybe next week.

5. Once all the babes know you’re there, take off for awhile. Walk on some grass with Woody Harrelson and smoke a joint. They’ll all be expecting you when you return, so why not be high?

6. You’re fucked. You should not have gotten high with Woody Harrelson. Haven’t you seen Natural Born Killers?

7. This is the point where things get blurry. Where did Woody go? Which island are you on? Was it you that starred in Castaway?

8. Yes. You did star in Castaway. Show them all why you got the Oscar.

9. Go into a rage. Somebody named ‘Tom Hanks’ doesn’t believe you. Cause a scene. Not a regular scene of course, one only a strong person could cause. This is your beach.

10. You’re Tarzan. Kidnap Jane.

11. Your rage is gone. You remember who you are. You remember you’re hot, jacked, and flexible. Jane also remembers. And it’s because of this that she doesn’t give a rat’s ass of what you’ve just done for the past three hours. You killed that child? Whatever. Expendable. You’re famous. She’s yours forever.

12. Clean up and leave with another babe. Again, famous.

As straight as an arrow,
Bruno.

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With Love & Rum. Alcoholics: Anonymously.