"We Are The World" - The Drinking Game

I had some free time last night. I was walking around my apartment ... and I tripped and accidentally drank an entire bottle of Pinot Grigio.

Anyhoo, there was nothing interesting on television. Apparently, my scathing letters to the Fox Network demanding they remove the eyeball-scraping pile of shit sitcom they call "War At Home" have gone unanswered. So, I retreat to my office to see what the ol' "internets" has to offer.

I soon found myself watching the music video for "We Are The World". For the blind/deaf, Amish, oblivious, or just anyone who slept through the entire 1980s ... this was a star-studded singalong attempt to raise money to feed the hungry in Africa. A noble cause.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ECDCty_qpSE&search=we%20are%20the%20world

So, let the game begin.

1) Drink every time someone sings who has now passed away
2) Drink every time you see Diana Ross barely able to stand up
3) Drink for awful lip-synching
4) Drink for each Pointer Sister on the screen
5) Drink every time Bruce Springsteen looks as if he may crap in his pants
6) Drink every time they spotlight Darryl Hall with John Oates trembling with rage in the background
7) Drink for every member of The News that ISN'T Huey Lewis
8) Drink every time you see Willie Nelson give Tina Turner a looks that says "bitch, quit hogging the microphone
9) Drink for any "Kenny" - Rogers or Loggins
10) Chug when you see Dan Aykroyd (did we ever figure out why the hell HE was there?)


Enjoy.

-Jonesy

At what point did you realize karate lessons weren't going to save your ass?

I remember as a seven year-old kid dragging my ass to the local YMCA once a week for Tae-Kwon-Do lessons. I hated it. It was the most pointless attempt at anything slightly recreational. The lessons were a joke. I paid very little attention. And needless to say I peaked as a Yellow Belt (for the uninformed ... that is one notch above a white belt ... meaning that my Mom's checks to the instructor cleared and he felt compelled to at least boost my confidence a tad by adorning me with the most faggy color known to man). Eat shit, Chuck Norris.

But I was one of the lucky ones. I got out while I could.

Nowadays I have to questions these hotshots that strut around claiming to be "Black Belts Of The 37th Degree" or whatever it is these days. Do you really find yourself in situations where your martial arts skills are put to the test? Most barfights or other "tests of strength" don't usually get the organizational attention that a karate sparring would need. I just don't see a perfect octagonal space being cleared out next to the shuffleboard table at McGrumpy's Tap ... let alone two guys taking the time to bow to each other before engaging in rapid-fire combat.

What I do know is this, Bruce. If I feel my life being threatened by your drunken antics ... you're not going to have time to take your stance for a butterfly round-house before I smash a bottle of Fat Tire over your face. 10 years of karate lesssons = $4000. One bottle of beer = $2.50 ($1 if it's Monday night).

I'm not a tough guy by any means. I have very few fighting hours under my belt. I will scramble at the first sign of danger like puppy when you rev up the vacuum. But that almost makes me more dangerous.

Nothing is scarier than picking a fight with someone like me who has no concept of the standard rules of engagement. I'm likely to charge you with arms flailing like the Looney Tunes Tasmanian Devil grabbing every bottle, utensil, stool, Golden Tee machine that is nearby to use at my defense. That is the position you put me in. I'm sorry, Sensei.


-Jonesy