for your next lost weekend

Pyramid of Drunkards 

Or period of unemployment. You know, tanning always bores me senseless; I suddenly discover that I have a need to pee every 15 minutes, my book is dull (the same book that is fascinating indoors) and there are all these tiny little critters with far too many legs outdoors. Perhaps I should start my day with one of these fine drinking games instead of my usual coffee and oatmeal; it would at least keep me occupied, and might keep me motionless after a time. Beer has oats in it, right? And whiskey has rye. Excellent!

Anyway, here is a roundup of drinking games, courtesy of that beacon of responsibility in hive mind, Wikipedia. One notes, with regret, one does, that they do not list my own family's contribution to the sport: The Grinch Drinking Game.

Better than Hoo HashThe Grinch Drinking Game is quite simple. Watch "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" and take a drink every time they say "Hoo." Since they say it eighteen times in the theme song and they sing the theme song three times in the show, no-one has ever made it all the way through or if they did they do not remember.

We assume no liability. Or intelligence.

2

A

BOn the Drink

C

D

E

F

Working model drunkard

G

H

I

J

K

L

MSymptoms

N

O

P

Q

R

S

T

U

Y

Z

Judgement

there’s good dog, there’s bad dog, and there’s bone dumb but indestructable dog

RussettMeet Russett. Russett is, as you'll have guessed from the above headline, a Jack Russell. God is exerting all his divine forces and calling on the Armies of Heaven, working hard keeping all the wee Jack Russells alive, for lo, he knows they're yappy, spoilt little buggers and he don't want none of that 'round Heaven. Word.

Russett was out for a walk recently with his owner, who is also not the brightest porch light on his particular block. One or both of them should have an intelligence-assistance animal, like the blind have guide dogs. Perhaps we could get them a matched set of monkeys. Actually, they're both so dumb we could get them a matched pair of Sea Monkeys and it would still be a boost in the ol' brain pan.

Anyhoo…

Russett and Russett's Daddy were out for a walk. And where else would you take your off-leash-and-doesn't-come-when-called terrier but along the edge of a 450-foot cliff.

You see this coming, right?

Mr Coombes, a yacht chandler from St Helens on the island, said: "All of a sudden he spotted a rabbit and shot off towards the edge of the cliff but lost his footing.

Distraught [he] peered over the precipice to see his beloved six-year-old pet tumbling down the cliff face and immediately called the coastguard.

One rather substantial Coast Guard intervention later, Russett is safe and sound, if rather dinged up in spots.

Mr Coombes said: "He's made a remarkable recovery. He's walking around the garden and already started barking at the postman again. He wants to go out for a proper walk but I think i'll give it a bit of time after the fright he gave me. I will definitely be keeping him on a lead in the future.

Shiloh shocker photo exclusive!

Shiloh Photo Shocker

ladies and gentlemen, The Doors

Oops, sorry. It was the Osmonds. But ya gotta admit the only way to tell was the dancing was better and the hairstyles worse. I’m pretty sure that’s Perez Hilton on the second solo. The funky chicken has never been rocked this hard.

Jay Osmond is the George Clinton of Utah!

President Evil

from Perez, who requests readers to check out this link, in his post yesterday about Dubya's proposed threat to marriage equality. Am keeping a close eye on this, for when the Americans eat a sandwich, it's Harper who ultimately shits it out. He's told us to expect this particular bolus of an initiative in the Fall, which I do hope is, in his case, allegorical.

President Evil