The Dregs have risen again and i know because they’re floating all around me. They’re floating in Ukrainian beer baths, sticking to James Bond drinking gadgets, spewing out of glove compartments, hanging out dead in strip clubs, drinking to not drinking, pulling out their own teeth and so much more other shit you won’t believe unless you read on.
Dedicated To Katherine Goldberg: Billy Joel – Captain Jack (Live)
[Press 'Play' for Captain Jack to get you high tonight...]
They got more in the Ukraine than just a population of hot women who look like jailbait and can drink you under the table before marrying you for your papers so they can detour the whole white slavery route in order to escape to a country whose major industry isn’t sexual tourism. However, in case you don’t know what that looks like, here’s a wallpaper i made simply by Googling “Young Ukranian Brides”. So all of these women in this picture are available to the highest bidder.
Like i said, though, they got more than this because they also got baths. And before you go getting all smarmy and making all kinds of racist jokes, yes, i’m positive they have baths. They even go so far as to have beer baths because the oats and bubbles are supposed to rejuvenate the skin and the yeast is supposed to infect you with energy. Shit, if taking a bath in beer is that beneficial, imagine what would happen if you ingested it orally.
There’s some single shots of Ukrainian babes and the Ukrainian Babe President filling my drawers down below.
From Russia With Drugs (OK, the Ukraine) comes The Spy Who Drunk Me. For Your Ice Only this is a License to Swill. This here’s a breathalyzer jacket so that if You Only Drink Twice from a Bottle of Solace, sipping some of that Vodkapussy, that you live to Rye Another Day and not Gin and Let Die.
What else do i got for The Man with the Golden Rum? The perfect accessory for the breathalyzer tux: Bottle Opener Cuff Links.
Ooh, someone needs a stiff drink.
Here’s a good idea for a movie that i just had. Let’s say there’s this one guy who’s poor so he has to crash at his buddy’s house ’til he gets on his feet but comes home to find the nice buddy will never get on his feet either because he’s now dead. With me so far? Ok, Po’ Boy (aka, Robert “Not So” Young) dumps the body in the car and hauls ass (and the dead ass) over to a restaurant where Mark Rubinson works and i’m guessing it’s not as “Resident Genius” ’cause “Not So” Young and Rubinson “Cube Head” drive the body to a couple restaurants and leave the corpse in the back seat of the car because they don’t even have to roll the windows down a crack.
Then in my terrific movie idea, they ditch the corpse at his house because who would want to take a stiffy to a strip club? And that’s exactly where they go, someplace called Shotgun Willie’s, and they’re not as stupid as i originally thought because they take the dead guy’s bank card because the last lap dance will be on him (figurely speaking, of course). The movie ends when the strip club closes and the guys flag down a cop and say there might be a dead guy back at the house. The End.
Hey, y’all? If i die and you find my body, don’t you dare treat me the way these guys treated their buddy. You damn well better take my ass into that strip club if you’re gonna use my fuckin’ money. If you leave me at home, i’ll haunt your ass for eternity.
[See that, bitches? The first journalist ever to write about this story and not make a reference to Weekend At Bernie's. BOO-YA.]
As if her being young, sexy and drunk weren’t enough…
i mean, Kaitlin Rymaszewski would’ve earned a place in my heart and in these Dregs just for being hot, 22, and having a name that could choke Linda Lovelace—the irony of her story is just cream on top. She’s driving down the road, speeding, and when she sees the cops she starts braking and turning and turning and turning but the police catch up to her and pull her over.
The officer approaches the vehicle, smells alcohol and sees beer pouring out of the glovebox. Inside it is an open Bud Lite tall boy that she got as a present for completing an alcohol-education program she had to attend because she was busted for drunk driving in March 2011.
i can see why she got the certificate, though, ’cause she knows a whole lotta shit about booze.
Kaitlin, babe? You out there? Can i interview you for the Bar None?
It must have been hard for Gene Boner. Captain in the police department, this cock-up came prematurely off the road because he was drunk up to his Blue Policeman Balls. Let’s hope he gets the stiff punishment he deserves.
You know how you sit around your place drinking and telling yourself that you’re not an alcoholic because there’s tons of alcoholic shit you ain’t never done? Here’s something you can add to that list.
After Francisco Rojas’ wife called 911, the police arrived to find a drunk man in his garage trying to pull out his own tooth with a pair of pliers. The room was full of the stench of the vomit he was able to extract tons easier than the tooth.
Here’s something i don’t recommend you say to the police when they come to your garage:
This is my fucking house, I can say and do whatever the fuck I want. I’m fucking drunk and you can’t do nothing about it.
Especially because they will do something about it, like raise the garage door because of the puke stench and when they do all the neighborhood kids are gonna be standing in the driveway for the show and that for sure is gonna make you wanna say something like:
Fuck you, Mr. King. Take me to fucking jail.
This might pose a problem as none of the the cops are named Mr King and they really didn’t want to take you to jail in the first place but you just left them no other fucking choice, did you?
See how much you’re not a real alcoholic?
Yeah, like you’ve never been drunk on an airplane before. i know y’all don’t remember and care even less but three years ago i drank all kinds of shit in first class but i never once grabbed a guy’s dick, not even a flight attendant’s no matter how cute he was and if you don’t have photos, it didn’t happen.
Unfortunately, Katherine Goldberg can’t say as much because she drank a pint of whiskey and told this guy stewardess who was probably gay anyway that she wanted his tube steak for dinner and her pie à la moded for dessert before she went all off on his crotch by groping his not-so-easy jet. Everyone knows how hard it is to get any kind of service in a plane and this case was no different. Apparently the friendly skies are less and less so because the guy refused to press anything but charges.
That’s something else you never done, too, so you really must not be an alcoholic. See what kind of public service shit i offer up in the Dregs?
Coming soon to a blog near you.
Bar None Dregs
September 19: A New Barmark
i’d like to take a minute to thank all you readers, oglers and drunks for making the Bar None the most popular unknown bar blog in the universe. On Monday of this week, more than 5000 patronizers stumbled into the Bar None for the first time in the history of the Bar None. Y’all are the best and rock the hard way.
September 09: No, i didn’t forget
i remember very well that Miss Demeanor made an honest man out of me by officially becoming Mrs Demeanor in a justice of the peace’s office here in Yeaman. i just didn’t tell you guys until now. And there was much rejoicing.
Al K Hall’s Drawers
Drunken Baths for Dirty Minds