“Bodega Wars”: Two proud families vie for customers on an unassuming block in Brooklyn. The bodega on the north side of the street only charges two bucks for a roast beef sandwich, but their store always smells like drywall. The bodega on the south side offers no pungent aromas…but they also don’t have Diet Dr Pepper. Tune in each week to see which location successfully entices Joe Lunchpail inside to buy a pack of smokes.
“Shoeshine Dynasty”: This intrepid group of experienced polishers refuses to let the art of shoeshine die. Tune in each week as Gramps, Mee-Maw, Sticky, Hoops, and the Baby hold court in the St. Louis train depot, waxing philosophical in more ways than one. Also, there’s a dog?
“Lockup: Middle School Detention”: Enter the raw world of adolescent after school discipline programs, where cameras capture the harsh reality of twelve year olds staring into space and being reprimanded for attempting to sleep on their desks.
“Broast Hunters”: Corpulent Rhode Islanders travel the U.S. in search of elusive chicken broasting restaurants, some of which may be only legend and some of which may be all too real.
“Who The @#%! Did I Just See At The Gas Station?”: Dramatic re-enactments of strange convenience store encounters. Pilot includes “Grown Man In Diaper,” “Rick Moranis Lookalike Invades Women’s Room.”
This game is meant to be played while watching Music Bank, the Alice in Chains video collection.
Take a sip every time…
- Layne Staley rolls his eyes back into his head
- Sean Kinney looks at the camera like he’s Fabio
- Jerry Cantrell and Mike Starr/Mike Inez headbang in unison
- film stock is projected on Layne Staley’s face
- the band appears in Claymation form
Finish your drink every time…
Layne’s goatee is braided
- you see Layne in a floppy leather hat
- a lemur is perched on a band member’s shoulder
- Jerry rocks so hard his hat falls off
- a stuffed animal is shown on fire
Chug an entire beer every time…
- you spot the three-legged dog from the cover of their self-titled album
- a real chimpanzee hugs someone
- a toy chimpanzee causes mayhem/inspires awe
- Jerry uses a guitar other than his white Stratocaster
- Sean plays drums in a trenchcoat
- a child is shown attacking another child with a hammer
Spray your fellow partiers with a nice sudsy brew every time you hear the theme from “Benny Hill” or any time you see a reference to “The Brady Bunch.”
Happy drinking and rock on!
Came across this recap of 2006 (penned by yours truly when 2007 was just days old) tonight in the digital catacombs. Let’s LOL along at how silly I was x amount of years ago.
I greet the new year in style, gorging myself on one of those giant greasy-ass breakfast sandwiches at a Jack in the Box just outside of Charlotte, NC (yes, some of us go to the Carolinas for pleasure). A few weeks later, I get into trouble at my substitute teaching job for telling a high school physics class the moon landing may have been faked. This incident makes me realize the American school system is totally fucked and that I need a new job like yesterday.
Grandpa Munster dies. I quit the sub gig and officially give up my dream of one day teaching Eskimo children general history for $65,000 a year. My girlfriend gets me a Phil Ochs CD for Valentine’s Day. I return the favor by taking her to Olive Garden.
Harcourt School Publishers offer me a project editing position, which I take, partially because their office is situated directly across the street from SeaWorld. Over the next few months I burn many a lunch break watching dolphins appease their wet-suited, fish-bearing overlords.
No one attempts to fool me on the first day of the month, and I frown. Scary Movie 4 is released. I see it opening night. The biggest laugh in the film is a Myspace reference.
The “American Idol” finale is almost too stressful to bear. Taylor Hicks is announced as the winner. My McPheever suddenly wears off. I scream “SOUL PATROL!” at the top of my lungs and begin dancing to imaginary harmonica riffs. I am the ultimate sell out.
The band I play drums for goes into an actual professional studio to record two songs. I am proud to make it through the recording process without crying. Later, we all decide to have drinks/dinner together at a local eatery. A fight nearly breaks out when the server refuses to believe our singer’s ID is legit. Cooler heads eventually prevail and singer guy gets his Miller Genuine Draft. I arrive home hoping the cable is on in my new apartment. It isn’t, and I consider sleeping in my car as some kind of misguided protest.
After much soul-searching, I quit the band. The world continues to turn.
My friend Michael gets free passes to see World Trade Center. He cannot find a single person in the universe who wants to see it, even for free. Too soon? Yeah, too soon.
I lose my job at Harcourt, which comes as a bigger shock than the John Mark Karr confession. Most of my co-workers seem genuinely upset to learn I will no longer be working with them. This makes me feel better. The possibility of a Mets World Series appearance also lifts my spirits.
A friend asks me to play a doctor in his student film. At one point, the script calls for me to pretend to butt fuck a vampire who is high on pot. I do not question my friend’s artistic vision. My girlfriend and I hold a Halloween party at the end of the month. A neighbor assures me said party is “off the hook.”
A new Tupac album comes out. I start to get pumped for Rocky Balboa.
An encounter with a hungry raccoon early in the month proves frightening. I see Rocky Balboa and it meets my high expectations despite the absence of the heavily-rumored Ivan Drago AIDS death plotline. For Christmas, I get a tie rack. Gerald Ford finally dies, but no one cares because James Brown dies like two seconds later.
“A forest teeming with rare birds.”
“That kick drum sounds a little hot.”
“Do you know the muffin man?”
“Altoona’s a bad scene.”
“An experience on par with Bette Midler’s Beaches.”
“There’s more than one way to skin a grasshopper.”
“I say, that last Etheredge Restoration comedy was too French even for my tastes!”
“Oh drat, my poet blouse is soiled with the grease of a cornish game hen!”
“If I should die in this Great Plague, please burn my corpse in Salisbury.”
“Balderdash! The Duke of Monmouth’s real name is Scott!”
“Please, speak not of this ‘New’ Amsterdam. It leaves me weary.”
“They have a pretty great quesadilla here.”
“Listen! They’re playing ‘Dream Police!’ Let’s go to the Virgin Megastore after this and buy as many Cheap Trick CDs as we can afford.”
“Okay, we can ‘share’ a martini, but I don’t drink, so, y’know, you’re responsible for taking care of the whole thing.”
“Excuse me, but it seems as if my water glass is cracked. Can I get a new one?”
“Oh no, Brian’s here. Yeah, things have been kind of awkward between us since I punched him in the balls at that traffic light.”
“So this is life after college. What a sham.”
Or “Writer Rehashes Content You’ve Already Ignored Once.”
Estonia officially adopts the Euro as its national currency. The singer from an nth generation rockabilly band accuses a toy conglomerate of stealing her identity. The Green Hornet is theatrically released, but I hear mixed things, so I decide to wait until it’s on DVD.
The White Stripes break up, allowing me to finally admit I was always a fan. I get food poisoning at my own Super Bowl party from a batch of eggplant-based dip. A computer beats Ken Jennings on “Jeopardy!”, shaming this country’s entire Mormon population.
I interview Mike Watt at the suggestion of my Crawdaddy! editor; the chat goes well, but I later regret not asking more questions about “Piss Bottle Man.” Zoogz Rift dies. Yuppies have a collective hissy fit when it’s announced the new season of “Mad Men” will be delayed until 2012.
Prince William marries Kate Middleton. I commemorate the early ’90s advertising ubiquity of MC Hammer. I also attempt to finish writing “We Didn’t Start The Fire” for Billy Joel. Yuppies have a collective hissy fit when this month sees the end of both LCD Soundsystem and Steve Carrell’s tenure on “The Office.”
I issue not one but two lengthy feature reports on forgotten Star Wars disco song “Lapti Nek”; unfortunately, they come too late in the year for Pulitzer Prize consideration. A personal trip to Minneapolis fails to yield any Prince sightings.
I discover via Twitter that the little kid from Cop & A Half is a rapper. Seth Putnam dies. Super 8 is released, and the scene were the children all sing “My Sharona” strikes me as not only grating but historically improbable; while I am researching this story, my boss calls to tell me Crawdaddy! is folding.
I interview “Weird Al” Yankovic, fulfilling a life-long dream. I see The Green Hornet and my distaste for Seth Rogen is cemented.
It is revealed that Steve Jones from the Sex Pistols didn’t really play on The Great Milenko. The original Star Wars movies are released on Blu-Ray with even more ridiculous CGI scribbling. A personal trip to Denver fails to yield any Sinbad sightings.
I publish my investigation into the Atari Landfill legend after it’s clear no one from the former video game giant can sue me. My favorite soda Vault is discontinued. Anthrax finally release Worship Music; riots erupt nowhere in response.
Steve Jobs dies, ostensibly before hearing a single note of Lulu. I interview Raj from “What’s Happening!!” and discover he’s a cool guy. After several seasons of speculation, Dr Pepper announces that they have no affiliation with “South Park.” The best song of the year is released.
The Justin Bieber Christmas album drops and gives the world a moment to reconsider Busta Rhymes. I eat pizza for Thanksgiving.
Americans suspect Coca-Cola of flavor treachery. Universal Studios Florida announces the closure of their Jaws attraction. An image surfaces that proves noted UFOlogist Giorgio Tsoukalos once combed his hair. Kim Jong-Il dies. I live the cliché by getting socks for Christmas.