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Friday, July 22, 2005

Happy Hour Smakk

From our friends at the www.phatphree.com....

Happy Hour Heroes
Here’s to those who observe strict cocktail hours, from 5 p.m. sharp until last call. Thank you, Happy Hour heroes. The rest of us owe these marathon binge drinkers a great debt of gratitude. Sustaining themselves on nothing but tortilla chips and buffet chicken wings, these Friday Night knights in coats of sport have the courage to begin their evenings hours earlier than those who feel it necessary to go home after work and change, nap or shower.If it were not for the Happy Hour hero, who would call you at 7:30 p.m. and remind you that you are, indeed, a pussy.
Thanks to those who turn a few beers after work into a Grey Goose-fueled blackout, Happy Hour heroes test their limits every weekend. The rest of us should be ashamed to be content with simply "going out", as opposed to the biological feats these hardened heroes pull off week in and week out. When their ties are loosened and their sportcoats are on the floor of a corner booth, Happy Hour heroes rule the roost until they can no longer speak. These brave, drunk men are the ones who creep out any woman they approach and force them to talk to the lesser men who watched a few hours of TV after work and put on some jeans before hitting the bars.
Thank you, Happy Hour heroes, for buying the entire bar a round of shots. At least that’s what we think you said. And thanks to the credit card you will leave behind at the bar, we will always remember your name.In the trenches longer than a full day’s work, thank you Happy Hour heroes for fighting the good fight against unconsciousness. By all means, rest for awhile. You’ve earned it. Lay your head down in that comfy ash tray. As God as my witness, no one will be allowed near your forehead with a permanent marker.
Happy Hour heroes, your breath may be heavy and strong from a long night of Marlboro Lights and well gin, but It is not offensive to anyone who knows of your quest. That smell of decay is merely a reminder to the rest of us that you get more done before midnight than the rest of us can accomplish all night. Happy Hour heroes, even though the bartender, who you thought was your new friend, turned against you after he slipped in your vomit, don’t loose sight of your duty. He, like you say, is indeed a dick, and is incapable of understanding the life of a man with the courage to begin his night at 5 p.m. Even though he’s been serving you water for an hour, Happy Hour hero, do you think a mere bartender would be in better shape after 13 gimlets on a stomach full of nothing but hours-old cocktail wieners? Hush now, that doesn’t make any sense, but I’m sure a few hours ago you would have belted out a hearty, “Fuck no!”For all you do, Happy Hour hero, from the bottom of our hearts, we thank you. Now it’s time to go. Get up off the floor. You’ve ruined your suit.
Drunk Work Smakk
Still wasted from last night and it's 1pm. 'Nuff said.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Groupie Drawer Smakk
Even though the implementation was extremely disappointing on last night’s Real World, the idea itself was absolute brilliance. Of course I am referring to – The Groupie Drawer. For those of you that did not see the episode (I have it Tivo’d – feel free to come over to Club 1407 anytime), the Groupie Drawer is a collection of phone numbers on various bar naps and beer coasters that the guys have collected from supposedly hot bunnies (this was questionable based on last night’s results on the show) while out on 6th Street. The idea being that they randomly pick out one of the numbers from the drawer and invite that girl and her friends over to party, even though they don’t exactly remember which girl is which.
Now the obvious challenge to this idea is that you are collecting these numbers usually while smashed and therefore beer goggling can be a major concern. Luckily for me, I keep a constant state of inebriation in tact therefore if I was beer goggling when I first met the bunny, I will most likely see here the same way when I call her back over.Currently I collect numbers of new bunnies in my cell, and my good friend Nicki has tried to teach me to also take an accompanying photo on my phone to attach to the number, more so that I will just remember who the bunny was. Both good tactics but something about the attraction to the randomness of the Groupie Drawer idea that seems very appealing. Now since I am not on the Real World, the “Groupie” nomenclature (impressive vocab – I know) does not seem quite to fit. So starting today, I will start collecting numbers of random hotties and they will be placed in my drawer now forever known as - The Bunny Patch.

Monday, July 18, 2005

Oh Yeah Smakk
And I forgot to mention - Wedding Crashers ROCKS. I saw it this weekend and it is the movie of the summer. Although I don't remember much of the last 20 mnutes due to the pint of Captain I slammed with my $6.50 theater diet coke. But from what I do recall, great flick.
Sunday Smakk
Nothing like a sweet little morning buzz left over from the previous night to get your Monday going. I started off yesterday having a calm little Sunday hanging out with the parents and bro’s family. We had a little lunch, saw “Charlie & the Chocolate Factory” (Good but not as good as original), hung out at the casa, etc… And then I get the text from Loop, “Time to break camp and come drink with me and Lap!” Next thing I know, the Captain and Diets are flowing out of control while I play the drinking game, Golf, with Loop, Lap and Flake. Then we proceed to make a couple road sodas and head out to Sherlock’s and Logan’s in Addison. I love empty bars on a Sunday when your table is the only drunk one in the place. The night continues to proceed as normal until some impromptu version of spin the bottle breaks out in the BMW and saliva is exchanging everywhere. Then Loop decides that Flake needs a full body massage on the couch to loosen her up. That’s about the point where I hit the sack and pass out for the evening. Not sure what happened from there…