“Evil is only good perverted.”
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Appearances can be deceiving, especially in the form of sweet, bubbly liquid served neat in a fancy glass. Some people call it champagne; I refer to it as Devil Jizz. Sure, it comes off all pretty and put-together. But like Britney Spears trying to hide her Louisiana upbringing, the evil lies just beneath the surface and will fist your soul at first sip. Perhaps it makes you giggle. Perhaps it warms your cockles and makes your cheeks flush. But at dawn’s early light, you get the sensation that a zombie is gnawing at your brain by way of your eye sockets. You bit the apple, you ripped open Pandora’s box — you brought this on yourself. You have no one else to blame except you and the Champagne wine region in northeast France.
Here are some more reasons why you should avoid champagne at all costs:
Given the choice, champagne would’ve aborted you.
Champagne smokes in bars.
Champagne would sleep with your girlfriend and your mother … in the same week.
Champagne hates kittens.
Champagne still has the Bush/Cheney sticker on his car.
Champagne doesn’t recycle.
Champagne leaves you with the tab.
Champagne sprinkles when he tinkles.
Champagne wears brown shoes with a black shirt.
Champagne doesn’t watch Oprah.
Champagne farts in elevators.
Champagne wipes back to front.
Champagne eats ice cream and never gets fat.
Champagne listens to Nickelback.
Champagne calls you fat.
Champagne calls your mom fat.
Champagne won’t give his seat to an old lady.
Champagne stares at the handicapped.
Champagne texts and drives.
Champagne laughed when he thought that kid was in the balloon.
Champagne kills ladybugs.
Champagne won’t share the road.
Champagne hates Betty White.
Champagne writes checks at the grocery.
Champagne interrupts Taylor Swift.
Thank god Halloween is on a Saturday this year — or, I guess, thank the Mayans who devised the calendar or whatever. And speaking of the Mayans, if we only have till 2012, that means you only have three more chances to don a totally awesome Halloween costume. So what’s it gonna be this year? I’m sticking with the tried-and-true “sex acts” genre with the Rusty Trombone. (Check out my Facebook page for costumes of years past, including but not limited to the Golden Shower, Dirty Sanchez and Cleveland Steamer.)
I guarantee we’ll see some Pitino/Sypher combos, and perhaps some boys in balloons and Michael Jacksons. So where’s the party? Well, just about every bar in town is having contests — but the bigger ones are usually at Phoenix Hill Tavern, Fourth Street Live, the Baxter Avenue district and the Back Door. I’m gonna split my time between the Back Door and Monkey Wrench — so if you happen to spot a smashing (or smashed) trombone player, please buy her a beer or a taxi, depending on what time it is and how smeared the rust is.
Drunk Texts of the Week
• “I look better whn u r drunk.”
• “Holy molee, tht burrito shot out lke a torpedo.”
• “i need a stiff cocktail & a drink.”
• “The fast food tht I had lst nt had a backstage pass. OMG.”
• “Coach Pitino has just hired new assistant — Coach Waddell”
• “I love fetuses.”
• “I was just tlkng 2 sara w an H n shes difficult.”