And I thought my evening of Finding Nemo and Heinekens was lame.

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A friend of mine sent this to me because he thought for a minute it was another PMPcomedy Seagal sketch. But it’s not (ours are much better). It’s an actual clip where Seagal…well, honestly — I have no fucking idea what’s going on…

Video submitted by Danny [Tanner]

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OK, now I HAVE to buy the beer.

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If you’re like me, you’ve thought about using your hot bod to become a stripper. Everyone knows that’s where the hardcore scrilla is. (I’ve managed to stifle the urge, and have found that I get equal satisfaction grating cheese on my abs).

But in case you’re still on the fence, this video should give two reasons why it’s not cool to be a stripper.

Reason #1: You’re a stripper.
Reason #2: This guy.

(This vid is not safe for work)

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This is freakin’ HILARIOUS!

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Pic submitted by Shell

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I learned something this weekend: not all Germans are Jew Hunters. Some Germans just like to play brass instruments and get really, really, really drunk.*

I went up to Lake Arrowhead this weekend with a bunch of buddies. Lake Arrowhead, for the record, is a quaint little rural community nestled in the mountains about two hours outside of LA. What better place for a bunch of aholes to go and party?

So we rented a cabin in this quiet little village. The “cabin” was actually more like a two story house. Of course, we lied grossly about how many occupants there would be (the max was 6, but we thought 10 was more “our style”).

But onto the Germans. The highlight was certainly the local Oktoberfest. When we rolled up to the town center with our “city slicker” hairdos and “cellular” telephones, we were expecting a pretty big festival. After all, we had read about it online and it promised to be quite entertaining. But when we got there, it was literally just a single tent with a live German band playing on the stage. We were (by about 20 years) the youngest people there.

Now, I’ll stop to set the mood here: it was freaking cold. And not just you’re-a-pussy-because-you-live-in-LA cold. It was like 45 degrees. And raining. I haven’t even SEEN rain in 6 months. So you can imagine my shock and horror and sandy vagina.

So we started going all out on the beer, as I recently learned that Eskimos bathe in beer to warm themselves up. And I have to say, this German band was amazing. I’ve never in my life seen grown adults drink SO MUCH BEER, so consistently, ever. These guys would play a “song” (I put it in quotes because they played the same thing over and over), and then slowly guzzle down their beer. Then, fill it back up.

Now, THIS is the kind of encouragement that they should teach in schools. It’s powerful. In fact, they motivated me right back to the beer line. And this is when it starts to get good…

They call up the women for a “Stein Holding” Competition. If you’re unfamiliar, this is a competition where women have to hold out full stein with one hand, arm straight, for as long as they can. And as an added rule in this local competition, every woman had to be hideous.

The competition really heated up between the last four ghouls/contestants:

Then they moved onto the Men’s Beer Chugging competition. When we signed up, we assumed it would be like a 16 oz plastic cup, but no, no, no. Not with the Heil Hitler Brass Band on the stage. They filled up full 36oz Steins and then had the drink off. One grown man even puked!

We all laughed at him, and scoffed at the local Lake Arrowhead man that won — although this man had a permanent bitter beer face, so I figure that should have disqualified him. My buddy, Lou, managed to come in second place despite his skinny, heroin-like physique.

It was great. And they followed that up with the WOMEN’s Beer Chugging Competition. And I swear, you can’t make this up. This old woman — she had to be like 60 years old — beat the crap out of this whole line of women and got 2nd place. I’ve attached a VIDEO of it here, and I insist you watch it. It’s hilarious (and so is the commentary).

By the time all these competitions were done, we were really feeling the Oktoberfest love. And by now, most of the crowd had left….leaving just the drunk people and the band. So we chicken danced our faces off, and yelled out “You Rock!” at the band. Which eventually led to, “Yeah Lester!!”, once we learned the name of the tuba player.

We wound up staying to close the festival down, and it was a blast. I even managed to book the Brass Band for my next Bar Mitzvah. They asked “what a Bar Mitvah was”, and not wanting to stir up the Jewish waters, I told them it was an Open Bar at a Mets game. I think they bought it.

So the lesson here: It’s October. Go to an Oktoberfest, drink some beer, and melt some faces with a chicken dance. If you’re lucky, you’ll get to see an elderly woman chug like a frat boy.

(*These Germans may in fact also be Jew Hunters.)

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It seemed like only yesterday I was ushering the smooth summer breeze, breathing in deep the freedom of the 4th of July and enjoying the long days of summer. And I blinked my eyes, and now it’s over. What the hell, man?! What did you do?

It went by too quick. Luckily for me, I live where the seasons don’t change. So I’ll still be gettin plenty of sunshine, but the there will be less bikinis, less barbeques, and markedly less sunlight. Alas…

But it’s not a total loss. This summer was a pretty good one. And this past Labor Day weekend ended the summer on a good note. A bit of beach, a good amount of drunk, and a few funny stories. I’ll share two of them with you.

The Yagerbomb.

I went down to visit a friend in Newport Beach, which for the record, is way far south in Orange County. It’s about 50 miles from where I live, but a friend just moved down there, right next to the beach, so me and my buddy Skip went down there.

We started the night off with some nice drinking. Delicious Coronas with limes. This girl had a few of her friends visiting from Staten Island (the forgotten burrow of NYC), one of whom tried to convince me she had a pet goat. Then I told her “I have nipples. Can you can milk me?”

She did. And it was awkward.

So we all headed out to the bar by her house. I randomly ran into the Producer of that sketch “Porn PA” I did almost two years ago on the way to the bar. i literally haven’t seen this guy since that shoot day. He was about fourty pounds lighter, and mentioned something about rehab, so I didn’t prod too far. Good guy though.

I digress. We’re at the bar. It’s a rip roaring good time and I’m feeling the effects of those Coronas. Niiice. This huge party of dudes rolls into the bar all dressed up — suit, tie, a few corsets. It’s a wedding party, post-wedding, and they’re there to celebrate.

One of them walks up to the bartender and says, “Steve. 12 Yagerbombs, man!”. And so the Bartender starts pouring an rediculously large number of Yagerbombs. The crowd moves in, everyone grabbing one. And so do I. I sneak my hand underneath the group of hands, shout out a fake “Yeeeaahhh cheers!!”. I shoot it down, and immediately turn back around to my group of friends, like nothing happened

It was perhaps the smoothest shot-steal in the history of man. Certainly my finest. It may be one of those “you had to be there to get it” stories — you know, to see a group of 12 guys in tuxedos toasting and one dude in flip-flops and a stained white tshirt trying to pretend he belongs.

Anyway, I was lucky enough to hear one of those guys say later, “God damnit. I just spent $150 on Yagerbombs” Yes you did. Sowwwwy.

That was the highlight of the evening. That and the bartender at the next bar who had rediculously mondo fake tats (think bowling balls on a stick). She gave me and Skip a free shot with a weird name — like “hairy vagina” or “scrotum face” or something.

The Neckbrace.
So the weekend was INFX, if you will. This I believe was Friday night. A group of us went out to this dive bar in East LA (I rarely ever go to that side of town), and it’s Hipster Nation. Bowling hats, tight jeans, fedoras, thick-rimmed glasses. Everyone there was a Hipster, and they were giving ME dirty looks for wearing a plain blue t-shirt. (more…)

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While taping promos for “Phone Jeopardy”, which I assume from the tape quality was circa 1940, Alex Trebek hits the sauce hard.

What is…drunk on tape?

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Yahoo recently joined forces with F.U.S.S.Y. (The Foundation for Useless Studies and Scientists, for Yahoo) to research the effects of alcohol. What they learned, might shock you*.

*Will not shock you.

If this is news, then I’m Nostradamus.

On the bright side…I guess I did learn something in college. Click here to read the full article.

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My friend Beerman sent me this pic that we took on our Spring Break in Australia. And yes, SARS is as delicious as it sounds.

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In a move that shocked alcoholics around the nation, Belgian beverage powerhouse InBev is about to buy Anheuser-Busch, and along with it, it’s iconic Budweiser brand.

Clearly, the sale of the most American beer on Earth to a bunch of chocolate-fuckers has angered a lot of Americans. Especially the Rednecks.

Said Phillip McClary, a Missouri-based fan of Bud:

“I was actually drinking a Bud Light when I heard, and I couldn’t even finish it. That’s the honest-to-God truth,”

Even though I could do without his dipshit comments, I feel McClary’s pain. There’s nothing like a cold can of Bud Diesel on a hot summer day. Hell, shake it up and spray it on a couple of knockers and I’m in heaven. But something tells me, those nipples won’t perk up quite as readily when it’s a Belgian company.

To prove his case (and how much of a hick he is), McClary decided to pick up his guitar and howl like a a castrated country goat. Take off your bucket hat and take a taste of his tune “Kiss My Glass”…

I particularly liked his plea for “All you hard-working Americans stand up and show some class. Have a drink with Mother Freedom, and tell InBev to kiss your glass.” God, I love freedom and I love America, but people like McClary make Americans look like little retard Bush-ites.

I digress. While I’m pissed that Budweiser sold it’s soul to InBev, I guess that’s the nature of the beast. No big companies have any integrity any more. So I guess as long as I can still buy a 20-pack of Bud Bottles at my local grocery store for $14.99, I’ll still use that amber gold to get drunk.

So I raise a commemorative glass to American Budweiser: I’ve used you to make many bad decisions, lubricate my mind, make boredom seem like fundom, and make woman make similar bad decisions. I got nothing but love for ya.

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