Monday, July 29, 2013

There's Nothing Gay About Camping

This weekend we went on a camping trip. The original plan was for us, our friends, and all of our ladies to go, but one by one the women each had something come up that forced them to bow out, so when all was said and done it turned into a trip with four dudes. A sausage fest, if you will.

But it was a lot of fun, even without the ladies. And we just wanted to assure you, the reader, that there is nothing gay about camping with another man.

For example, there's nothing gay about getting wood with another man. When you're making a campfire, it's expected.

And while you're getting wood, you have to be extra careful with your skin, too. Skin cancer is no joke, and you've got to stay protected from the sun's dangerous rays. No homo.

There's also nothing gay about sharing a tent with another man if someone didn't happen to bring one.

Well, it's not gay unless the tent is so small you'd practically be humping each other just trying to sleep.

But it's not just the campsite, either. There's nothing gay about going on a beautiful nature walk with another man, so long as you call it "hiking." And so long as you treat the mountain like your opponent and not like something out of a Robert Frost poem.

Not acceptable:

Totally acceptable:

And speaking of hiking, there's nothing gay about needing a good hiking pole. However, it's always good to make sure when inspecting your best friend's hiking pole that it actually is a hiking pole you're examining.

And that, ladies and gents, is why we four, totally masculine and sexually self-assured men had such a great, manly time pitching tents with each other and shining our walking staffs around the campfire. And it was totally not gay.

Cheers and stay classy, folks!


Beer: Breckenridge Avalanche
Music: Van She

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Mike's Hard Commercial

Hey all, and happy Thursday! We've got something special for you today, and all we had to do was sell out (about damn time, right?). You see, Bryan reached out to Mike's Hard Lemonade recently and they asked him to draw them a comic about what it's like to have Mike's for the first time. Like the classy gent he is, he submitted this.

A timeless masterpiece, I know. But they paid him for it. Like, real paper money.

And that wasn't all. They asked the two of us to enter a contest they were holding for a select group of about 40-50 creative minds. Basically, we all had about one hour to shoot a commercial for Mike's Hard Lemonade and send it to them (to add to the challenge/spontaneity), and from there they would vote on all of the videos. The winner would get a decent chunk of change and their ideas could be used in a future Mike's commercial.

Well... we submitted a commercial. And we won first place!

So without further ado, we present you with the winning entry in the 2013 Mike's Hard Lemonade make-your-own-commercial contest. And please, please keep in mind that as mentioned we had only about 1 hour to work on this, so most shots were done in one take and this is far from refined.

So remember, kids, if you see a commercial in the near future starring Dr. McParty and Frightened Homeowner, you know whose demented brains birthed it.

Cheers and stay classy, friends,

Music: City and Colour (represent, bitches!)
Beer: Left Hand Black Jack Porter (sorry Mike, the contest was fun but we'll always be beer guys)

Monday, July 22, 2013

Take Me Out to the Corporately Owned, Athletically Neutered Ballgame

When the two of us were growing up, our local sports and music venues had names like "Mile High Stadium" and "Fiddler's Green Amphitheatre." Nowadays, thanks to corporate buyouts, we have "Sports Authority Field" and "Comfort Dental Amphitheatre." And who doesn't want to go rock out at Comfort Dental? Nothing says rock 'n roll like a visit to the dentist, amirite?

So here are some other ridiculous venue names we found across America.

1. The KFC Yum! Center - Louisville, KY

That's right, KFC didn't just want to name their sports arena in Kentucky after themselves; they had to add the word "Yum!" to show just how delicious their chicken is. However, in the process, they made their venue sound less like a basketball arena and more like a hospital for the clinically ill.

2. Glass Bowl Stadium - Toledo, OH

This stadium is home to the University of Toledo Rockets, a football team whose name you've no doubt already forgotten. And even though this outdoor gridiron is host to the weekly clashing of fat linebackers, I was surprised (and a little disappointed) to find out that it wasn't actually an aquatic version of the Thunderdome.

3. The Quicken Loans Arena - Cleveland, OH

The Quicken Loans Arena, home of the Cleveland Cavaliers, hosts many a basketball game. But simply by the name I would never have assumed basketball was played here. No, I would think this is a huge gladiatorial arena for bankers and lendees to sort out their differences... TO THE DEATH.

4. Petco Park - San Diego, CA

This is a dog park, right? Or is this a sports stadium? Because I honestly think we'd prefer it to just be an animal stadium. "Catch Rover, catch! Now run to the 22 yard line and make the first down! Good boy, Rover, good boy!"

Don't be mad at Fiddlesticks. She had Tim Tebow throwing to her, so she never stood a chance of catching it.

We laugh, but who knows, maybe one day some huge company will buy us out and you can look forward to reading sponsored blog posts from TAMPAX PRESENTS: A BUDWEISER SELECT 55 FOR THE MARTHA STEWART HOME COLLECTION SHOWER.

Any stupid venue names we missed?

Cheers and stay classy, friends,

Beer: Goose Island 312
Music: The Pigeon Detectives

Thursday, July 18, 2013

The Science of Bad Poetry

This may come as a huge shocker, but when the two of us aren't penning MSPaint comics about mentally deficient, breakdancing goats, we write fiction. We write humor, we write horror, we write literary - you name it. But one thing you'll never find us writing is poetry.

Even though we write fiction, we can't write poetry to save our lives. And yet it seems not many writers can come to terms with this. See, just because you can blog or just because you can write fiction doesn't necessarily mean you can write poetry, or vice versa.

bumblefuck thundertwat

So today we're going to delve into the 4 biggest offenders of shitty poetry and laugh at their terribleness, because let's face it, you probably know at least one of these goobers.

The Tries-Too-Hard-To-Rhyme Poet

This poet never got the memo that not all poems have to rhyme, and unlike those who have the talent for rhyming, this poet can't rhyme to save their life. They'll make some real stretches, too, like rhyming the same word with itself twice or rhyming something like "heroin" with "harrowing."

I would travel the globe like Galileo,
just to get a chance to say-o,
You've fallen my heart like a tree by axes.
Plain and simple, that's just what the facts is.
So let's celebrate our love and go buy a Kia.
My words fall out of my mouth like diarrhea.

Wow. Wordsmithery that's nothing short of enchanting, and without sacrificing the quality of the poem.

The Love-Lorn Loser

AKA whining about love using flowery metaphors. This type of poetry is more fit for 13 year old girls lamenting the hot guy who "totally just dumped them," and yet adults try to write this too. This poet has a heart the size and depth of the deepest ocean, or so they think. More likely than not, they're more "whiny bitch" than "scorned lover." Which is why their poems all sound like the aborted lovechild of Nicholas Sparks and William Shakespeare.

'Tis my heart that is bleeding and dead,
Hung skyward like the suicidal moon.
Of whence it was cast aside,
Now set to dangling, black-tongued.
Mine body, mine spirit,
Wiggles its legs for thee. 

Pee-yew. Did thou farteth? This is the kind of literary shart you wind up with when you write in your own blood.

The Hipster Poet

This poet wants to be Chuck Bukowski but without possessing any of the talent or life experiences. Even though they've lived comfortably in their mother's basement for the past 10 years (and without need to hold down any form of job), they strive to tell the tale of the struggling working class man who's revolting against the system.

Dancing corporate robot
Suckling oil from mommy's teat
My lips seek out the nipple
The robot, he is ME

Do you feel that? I feel a revolution coming on. Or maybe that's just diarrhea.

Oh, and please, hipster poet, continue to "fight consumerism" by writing bad poetry on your $2,000 Apple computer as you sip your third latte at Starbucks, because you're not the only one who appreciates some good irony.

The Verbose Elitist 

Let's face it, nobody appreciates snobbery. And yet this guy's turned it into an art form. He probably went to a famous school for budding writers where he learned he was more gifted than most. Now, having found that nobody gives a shit about poetry anymore (at least not anyone that pays money), he bitterly teaches creative writing at the local university while simultaneously cranking out gems such as these at night...

Gelatinous haunches precipitate textured spandex.
Colonel Sanders's declaration of egregious malevolence.
Staccato vibration illuminates cottage cheese.
Preferred physical architecture of porcine haunches.

And, like most poetry, all five people who read it did a great job of pretending they liked it! That makes every penny of your $100,000 Ivy-league MFA worthwhile, doesn't it?

Well, folks, we're not trying to knock poetry here. Some of our favorite classic writers are poets. It's just that neither of us should be allowed within a hundred yards of forming a stanza, and the same goes for a good many other writers not suited for poetry. There's still good poetry out there. It's just hard to find. So if you're feeling ballsy, steel thy nerves and head out to thine local cafe for open-mic night. You never know, you just might hear a poetry reading that doesn't make you want to pull a Sylvia Plath and stick your head in an oven.

Cheers and stay classy, folks!

Beer: 90 Shilling
Music: New Ben Franklins

Get your shit together, Adam. I don't care if you're in second grade; this is still absolutely terrible.

Monday, July 15, 2013

Sprouting Horns With Joe Hill

Today, folks, we've got a real treat for you. Joining us here on the blog is writer Joe Hill. He's author of the novel that inspired the upcoming feature film, Horns, starring everyone's favorite wand-fondler, Harry Potter, and he's also one of our favorite authors! Let's get to the interview!


joe hill cartoon

So, we're actually eager to see how the new "Horns" movie turns out. If it's anything like the book, it will be fucking great. And more importantly, if you haven't heard of him (or even if you have) go check out one of Joe's novels or graphic novels. Like his new book NOS4A2. It's one of our favorite books of the year. Also, as a quick addendum addressed at some of the comments, Joe Hill is NOT famous because of his father. He kept his writerly genealogy secret for a lot of years and found his own fame before he got found out.

Cheers and stay classy, folks!


Beer: Salvation (Avery Brewing)
Music: Joe Walsh