I Should Be Beer Chuggin' Champ...Dammit.

This past week while on spring break I found myself with the opprotunity to compete for the beer chugging crown of Destin, Flordia. We were at a club called "NighTown" which supplied plenty of booty-dropping bass. It's not really my forte, but I was having fun anyway.

As I was walking around checking out all the skirts, two MTV personalities got up on stage and announced they needed volenteers for a beer chuggin' contest. My heart lit up and I bolted for the stage. This was the opprotunity I had trained so hard for. All the hangovers, embarassing behavior, and throwing up was finally going to pay off. I threw my hand up and yelled "I'm the champ!! I'm the one!!" Everyone I was with also realized how dominate I would be, and started pointing at me and yelling. But alas, I did'nt get called up on stage.

















i will own all challengers...

My heart sank, but I figured someone up there would be a worthy chugger. I was mistaken. I have never seen such a group of slack-ass beer drinkers. And the worst part was that the douche that won got a trophy. A FREAKIN BEER CHUGGIN' TROPHY!!!!! Holy Crap! What I would'nt do for a beer chuggin' trophy. I should have a beer chuggin' trophy.

When we were leaving the club, Lee ran into the "champ." He told him that "your not shit compared to my boy, he's legit."

I am legit.

If you need proof, Dub has a video from St. Patrick's day. Green beer. 2.5sec. legit.

The Cat Scare

I've noticed, over my many years of horror movie viewing, that there is a recurring theme in every good horror film... the cat scare.

What is the cat scare? It is a suspense technique used to give the audience a thrill, followed by a sense of relief, and typically followed by somebody getting killed or chased by a killer. Still unclear? This is how a typical cat scare will go.

Enter victim to dark room, stage left mostly.
Victim: "Hello? Is anybody in here?"
a noise in the corner startles him/her
V: "Is that you, Brad? This isn't funny!"
a noise from the closet prompts him/her to investigate
V: "Brad your such a jerk, if your trying to scare me I'm going to kill you."
he/she timidly opens the closet door (suspenseful music plays)
cat dives out of the closet
Cat: RRRRRAAARRRR!
V: "HOLY SHIT!!!! Whiskers! You scared me!"














Boo mutherfuckers!

At this point the audience is kicking themselves for being such pussies (no pun intended) and jumping at a damn cat flying out of the closet.
After the initial thrill is over and just about the time the audience is feeling safe again, the killer emerges and makes everyone shit their pants.
















inevitable doom

There are, however, some instanes where the cat scare is overused.

The first "Alien" movie uses three cat scares in a matter of five minutes. Seriously? It's a big strech to use two in an entire movie. But three in five minutes? Lets get real Ridley Scott.

My Date With Paris

I thought my dream had come true. Paris Hilton had responed to my personal on match.com, unreal I thought. I then remembered what information I had posted on the site and how disappointed she was going to be.

The ad went something like this:


Name: "Hawk" Shepperd (had to come up with a cool name)

Sex: yes please (thought it would be funny)

Height: 6'4"

Body Type: Muscular, athletic. (not quite)

Intrests: Long walks on a cool night, watching "The Bachelor", and/or "the Bachelorette," and discussing who's a bitch with my best friends. (this is exactly what girls want to hear)

Hobbies: Helping the homeless (by which I meant telling them to get a job)

Job: I don't really have one. I saved Bill Gates from drowning while training new recruits be Navy S.E.A.L.'s. I became heir to his vast fourtune, so money isn't an issue. (I dropped a kid in a pool one time and make him swim like a otter, so its not that far fetched)

So this is what she is basing her opinons of me on.

Anyways, she flew me to NY and her assistant picked me up in a limo. She told me I didn't look like the man in the picture. I had to come up with an excuse fast, so I explained to her how I was in the hospital for 6 months after a dirt bike stunt gone wrong had rendered me incapacitated. I elaborated on muscle atrophy and all the pudding I ate.

Paris was doing a photo shoot so her assistant asked me if I wanted to see NY and all the sights. I felt like I needed a drink or two before the inevitable collapse of my scheme came to pass, so she pulled over to a local pub and let me off. I was informed she would pick me up after Paris was finished with her business.

5 hours, 12 beers, 3 shots, and a hoagie later, I finally came face to face with Paris. She looked a little surprised at first, but then a smile broke out on her face and she ran up and gave me a hug. I was surprised to say the least, and at that moment I noticed the white powder under her nose and the stench of vodka on her breath. She was all kinds of hammered and probably thought I did look like David Hasselhoff with a moustache.

So the rest of the night we partied like there was no tomorrow. I met all kinds of celebs and they all gave me strange looks. Paris assured me they were not as strange as the ones Nick Carter got, so I had that going for me.

















moving in for the ass-grab...success!

Paris got in a couple fights with Nicole Richie, and Shannon Doherty. I punched Ben Stiller in the nuts and said,"THAT'S FOR MAKING 'MYSTERY MEN!' YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

All in all it was a pretty good night...

My First Day As A Bastard

Following up my previous post, I've decided to take my own advise. Treating people with respect is just not working out like I planned. Originally, the plan was to give others the benefit of the doubt and be a kind, courteous human being.

I think from now on I will act according to how I've been treated in the past.

Morning:
I wake up and eat some food out of the fridge thats not mine (thats not new, I always do that, but I had to start somewhere.)

Send out a couple viruses on IM and laugh at how many people think I sent them a link to, "Chupacabra Killed in Mexico: Exclusive Photos!!" Dumbasses.

Drive to class. When I come to a fourway stopsign, I just speed right on through with those other tools just sitting there waiting their turns... someone had the gall to honk at me, I honked back and shot'em the bird.

Pedestrians have the right-of-way... my ass they do. Take your headphones off, and quit listening to the Black-Eyed Peas before you catch a grill and need a new hip.

I try to find a parking spot. I'm roughly five cars in line for the next open space. I go ahead and pull around and grab the next spot out of turn.

On my way to class, I notice a girl has dropped her books. She was bent over which gave me the perfect opportunity to cop a feel... which I took advantage of. She called me an asshole, so I shot her the bird.

Tripped a guy on crutches who was taking up too much hall space... bird.

Sat in class an said, "that's what she said" everytime the opportunity presented itself. Also made paper airplanes and threw them at a guy wearing a billed beanie.










look out innocent bystanders

Afternoon:
Walked around stepping on everyone's heels so their shoes came off.

Threw a football with incredible velocity into a crowd and yelled, "a little help?"

Drove as fast as I could everywhere I went, and revved the engine when I drove past people walking.

Keyed a bunch of cars.

Clogged the Business school toliet and stole all the TP.

Went to lunch and took my sweet ass time pulling up to the next window.

Night:
Borrowed a bunch of movies I did'nt plan on returning.

Went to the bar and quoted a bunch of lines from popular movies.

Bumped into a guy with my shoulder. He said, "excuse ME, bro." Nutshot.

Played "Simple Man" 8 or 9 times on the jukebox... sang every word, every time.

Told girls I could see their thongs.

Pulled and snapped bra straps and laughed hysterically saying, "that was priceless!"

Went and had some glamour shots taken and posted them on myspace.

Called Jake a pussy.

All in all it was a pretty fulfilling day.

Drunk Chicks Don't Like Me

While at Scruffy's this past Saturday I had a revelation. Amongst a haze of smoke and red bull enduced mini-strokes, I realized drunk chicks don't enjoy my company. After coming home and pulling the trigger in Jake's yard (which I am still very much against, Edgar), I began to wonder why girls under the influence of alcohol seem so apalled by my presence.














sober girls like drunk-me...see?

When we were at Scruff's, Keene and I were standing at the bar talking to two girls who were obviously hammered. They seemed to think Keene was quite charming. I, on the other hand, could just as well have been the guy who killed their family dog. After I ordered up a round, I noticed one of them was looking a little ill. She had her head in her lap, and was rocking back and fourth. I felt concerned enough to ask her if she was alright. Instead of an audible response I've become familiar with over the years, all she could muster was a resounding middle finger right in my face. I was'nt trying to hit on her, I did'nt touch her, and I certainly had no sadistic motives in mind. So what's the damn deal? All I was trying to do was help her drunk ass avoid the embarrassing public vomit.














nice shiny shirt you pole-smoking skank

This is'nt the first time this has happened. Refer to "Shirtless Dub and the Wrongful Bitch-Slap." She was more than ready to slap the shit out of me. But when it came to light Wardlaw was the ass-grabber, she skipped her happy ass over there and gave him a Sonny's quality booty rub down. What the hell? I wear cool clothes, I watch "I Love the 80's," I own 3 seasons of "Curb Your Enthuiasm," my hygine is ok, my goatee is kickass. So why do drunk chicks hate me? I guess it's kind of like the same reason people don't like thunder. It won't do anything to you, unlike lightning, but it's pretty loud and will rattle your windows at night and wake you up. A trait I share.

I think from now on I'll just be a bastard. I will grab asses. I will hit on them. They can throw up in their hair all they like with their thong hanging out. And who will be there with a camera phone? Me bitch. ME!

Hot Damn!! My Computer's Fixed!!

Thanks to Danny Merziovski my computer is back up and running. With all the events that have occured since my computer went down, I thought about what I should post first at the end of my hiatus. I did'nt really want to type out all that bullshit, so I've decided to just do a recap.

My sister Emily came into town for her birthday. She brought some friends from A&M that all happened to graduate from Belton High School. It was like reliving one of her sleepovers in 8th grade, except with beer and jagerbombs. We were all having a good time two-stepping in the living room. I became a little nervous when when I saw McKenzie dancing just a little too slow with Emily, but the booze assured me everything was fine. I'm going to skip the damn drama that followed and will continue on to the house. Finally, we get home at 3-4am. I will now take a cue from Dub and change the names of those involved to protect their idenities.

Male: Dagwood
Female: Blondie
Poor Schmuck on the couch: Beetle Bailey

Removed

Emily had such a good time she came back the following weekend. I'm a little blurry on the entire night but bits come to mind.

-Mark Shepherd showed up and I was tempted to tell him," There's only room for one Shep at this party, and it's ME!"

-Trail Boss and I hang out in the Box Pub with freshman Thetas. They want to take a picture, Boss just takes a picture of their chests. I smoked three month old menthols, they were the best cigarettes I've ever had.

-Emily passes out on the couch at 1am. I asked Woody if I could put her in his bed. Emily told me the next morning she woke up to a pair of tiny blue shorts and an asscrack in her face. Thanks Woody.

-I fought off an upchuck, in retrospect I wish I would'nt have.

That's all for now.....It's good to be back.