Ask Dr. Booze Science: Beer = Headache Cure?

Dr. Booze Science, who has a PhD in Drunkology and an MD in Nonstop Partying and is definitely real and not one of my silly alter egos, has graciously agreed to answer your questions/give out really good advice on this here blog. I've already got one question! Send me more, and I'll make sure the good doctor gets 'em.

Dear Dr. Booze Science, 
I had a headache, I drank a beer, no more headache. Did the beer cure it & should I have another?

The short answer is clearly yes and yes. Why do you think old-timey doctors used to give everybody booze as medicine? Not because they didn't really have medicine that cured anything so they just gave you alcohol to make you not feel as much! No, because booze is totally medicine. I'm a doctor, you can trust me. However, as a professional drunkologist, I encourage you to utilize the scientific method and do a series of experiments to see if your results can be duplicated. No matter how many pints or cases of beer it takes, do your due diligence and see it through. If beers keep curing your headaches, you're golden! If for some reason you end up with another headache, just drink more beers to see if that will help! If you end up passed out, then clearly you don't have a headache anymore, and PROBLEM SOLVED. Good luck, my junior drunkologist friend. I believe in you.


BOOZE SCIENCE FACT OF THE WEEK: If you learn something while drunk, the only way to access that knowledge again is to match the original level of drunkenness. This is why you only remember how awesome crappy frozen pizza is when you're trashed. #science

Quick Hit Booze Review: BuzzBallz Forbidden Apple

This review was undertaken a few weeks ago when I found this shit at a convenience store across the street from our hotel in Ohio. This seemed like the least offensive flavor. BuzzBallz: KEEPIN' IT KLASSY!

Yes, I spent $3.29 on this. FOR SCIENCE.

Alleged positive qualities: unbreakable, freezable, floatable. Supposedly they can be frozen (I did not freeze mine, but I'll just believe it) and they float. I tried making it float in our hotel bathroom sink. Mixed results. It's got air in it and its plastic, so it doesn't sink, but it's not exactly bobbing on the surface either. I DEBATE THIS CLAIM.

It's not NOT floating, I guess?

Oh, it is strong, and not really in a tasty way. Maybe better as either a shot or over ice? Just kind of sickly. The aftertaste is fine, though, because it's an actual mixed drink, not a gross malt beverage. I think it might just be a bad flavor/overly strong. That was 200 mL of YUCK.

My buzz is definitely maintained and moving ahead, however. So, there's that.

Drunk Epistolary Post

Dear amazing new Korean drama I've recently started,

YOU ARE SO GOOD I LOVE YOU, but I need to edit some videos right now* instead of luxuriating in your ridiculous love attraction/sibling/fake sibling/but also on the side sexual abuse storyline/throw in a weird aquarium obsession angle business. It's not like I can mail you back tomorrow anyway! I'll watch the other two episodes on that disc then.

Love,
Drunkish Saturday Night Lauren


Dear Set of Cute Matching Glasses I Bought When I Moved to Ohio and Lived Alone for the First Time,

I am saddened to announce the passing of yet another one of your fellows. When I first found you at the Bowling Green, Ohio Meijer store, I was like, "Sweet. I've got eight tall and eight short matching glasses because I AM CLASSY." But alas, it seems the taller of you have been, let's say, not so resilient.

Yes, I'll admit my complicity. I am clumsy and maybe not so diligent about the dishwashing, but since 100% of your fallen comrades were destroyed in the washing process, I'd think you'd at least count your blessings.

We are now down to eight short and two tall glasses after a tragic accident involving a tall guy and a faucet head earlier today. I mean, I really only have myself to blame, but I'm going to go ahead and blame you also. And the small Taiwanese children who hand-sculpted you out of sand and fire. Or whatever. STOP BREAKING, NOW I NEED NEW GLASSES.

Love,
Queen of the Breakie Breaks


Dear Mom and Dad,

Please, for the love of all that is holy, stop reading this blog. If you ever started. I think we're all happier if you don't really know what is going on with me.

Love,
The Ex-"Golden Child" (sorry I dropped the ball on that one, kids, nobody warned me there was an actual title involved)


Dear Carlos,

I don't actually know anybody named Carlos, but I've always wanted to. Let's have a torrid affair on some sun-splashed beach and then mention it in passing in our respective best-selling memoirs thirty years from now.

Te quiero, amor mio.

Bailamos,
Laurenza


Dear Biological Clock,

It's been nearly a decade with the "tick-tock." I GET IT, OKAY? I've only got 5-10 years to get my shit together. Babies are cute, but not as cute as stability in my mental health AND finances! What I'm saying is, could you lay off?

Love because it feels like some sort of family obligation thing because you are my brain/uterus/society/Mormon lady training and are a part of me,
L. Diggity Dogg

P.S. Lay off my mom too, okay? Let her meet some friends who are relieved their offspring haven't reproduced. Most of us really aren't fit, after all.


*But first I will write this ridiculous post.

From the Late Night Cable Movie Files: The Perfect Man

Welcome to this fine 2005 film that apparently actually appeared in theaters? Now it's on TBS at 2:00 a.m. and I'm trying to not just fall asleep because I woke up like 10 hours ago and let's just make this beautiful, people.

The younger daughter might as well not be in this movie. NERD.

Hilary Duff doesn't get to go to school dances because she moves around a lot. Heather Locklear is her mom and smashes a pie in her douche boyfriend's face. Now they're going to move again. "Reckless flirting" was a phrase just used. The Blonde family is now moving to somewhere that required them to drive through both Ohio and New York City. Lizzie Maguire is not happy about moving so much. Lizzie blogs on "Girl on the Move" and calls herself a "teenage gypsy," which isn't racially problematic or anything. OMG, I just finished my drink, what should I do?

Apparently in Brooklyn, girls get tattoos and piercings in 5th grade. Locklear has her first day at the new bakery. Caroline Rhea is there, squandering her talents in this terrible movie. OMG, Fred from Drop Dead Diva is the boy at Lizzie's high school who is cute and is a cartoonist. GROSS. The dad of the (out) gay kid on Glee is the bread manager at the bakery and hits on Locklear. There are an embarrassing number of people I recognize in this movie. Lizzie's mom is embarrassing her at a parent-teacher meeting by suggesting a single parents' mixer. GROSS.

Maguire is wearing some fancy dress over jeans because it's 2005 and a movie and Fred was nice to her. Carson Kressley is in this movie, of course. Lizzie's one friend's uncle is Mr. Big or whatever. Ugh, this movie made me think of Sex and the City. I hate it already. There's a really creepy flower conversation happening. Lizzie/Holly is going to leave orchids for her mom from her "perfect man" so she won't freak out and move again. This can only go in the best direction.

Refilled with vodka and Neuro Sonic. Hopefully this will keep me awake. I have a hard time believing Locklear's character could do the NYT crossword past Tuesday.* Maguire's running down a fire escape to get her mom's flowers. This is so stupid. Holly and Fred are talking comic conventions because he drew a comic of her and that is kinda creepy. She can't commit to something four weeks away. Now Locklear is getting schooled about feelings by her sassy black boss lady. The bread guy asks her to go to a Styx concert. Also, Holly's got a younger sister who doesn't do much but be cute. Whatshisname's got a sweet TransAm. He should be dating Ke$ha. Apparently it's a Styx tribute band. Obviously Locklear and Holly's sassy Brooklyn friend's uncle Mr. Big will end up together blahblahblah. The next hour and a half might be kind of painful. Or maybe I will just take a nap for an hour and let you know if I was right around 4:00 a.m.

Holly and her friend consult her uncle about romance. Patsy Cline is Locklear's sad music. The Styx tribute concert is getting awkward. Perfect Man Uncle is SO engaged! RUH-ROH. Holly and her friend are going to write Locklear a fake letter from the Perfect Man. There's a lady family dance party and the cheesiness hurts my soul like chocolate hurts my many fillings and cavities.

Perfect Man Ben sent his picture (the uncle) and is "in China" right now but will totes email Locklear/Jean. Apparently Holly has to email from someone else's house because she doesn't know how to delete her internet history, so she goes over to Fred's and sends her mom a love email. Locklear shares WAY too much personal info with her daughters, BTWs. Fred loves how much Holly is hanging at his place for internet access. Awww, Fred.** Holly and her mom have a romantic IM. This is creepy. Locklear gave up her dreams to have Holly and blahblahblah feelings who cares? This movie is terrible but I want all the blonde lady/brunette dude pairings to happen to fulfill my soul anyway. Like candy fulfills your appetite: not really, but it's still vaguely satisfying.

YMCA, bitchez. Enjoy it while you can.

Uh-oh, Locklear's going to a shower at Ben's restaurant and the girls are scared they'll meet. Luckily Ben's at home, and Holly catches him doing a crossword. Hilary Duff's acting is sincere but strained. I'm not saying I'm a better actress, but just you wait for my UPCOMING WEB SERIES SECRET PROJECT. Also, who doesn't do crosswords in pen? Pencils are for kids. Ben gets called into the restaurant and Holly's like OMG her mom will be there and recognize him! Ben's niece Amy (that's apparently her name) causes a distraction so a bunch of construction workers converge on the bar and confuse Kressley with hotness. Holly causes a fire alarm/sprinkler situation on purpose. Holly just realized Ben and her mom are actually perfect for each other, but she's fucked things up with her scheme! WHAT WILL HAPPEN? Probably only unsatisfying tragic things. HAHA JUST KIDDING, HOLLYWOOD.

Holly gets Fred to call and break up with her mom. But Fred has feelings and can't go through with it. Fred kisses Holly at school. AW. There is one time--ONE TIME--I saw something romantic at my high school. It involved a hot punk dude romantically grabbing and kissing a cute punk girl after school when very few people were around in the courtyard. I don't think they were ever a couple, but I was moved by seeing it happen like it was a fucking romantic comedy or something. Oh god, in the movie, loser Lenny from earlier is serenading Locklear and proposing it's SO AWKWARD. Your move, Lizzie Maguire. She tries to set up a rendezvous between her mom and that fake guy/Uncle Ben or whatever. I've heard he makes good rice AMIRITE?

Apparently Ben is at THE WEDDING, but we all know that he is but the best man or whatevs. So Holly interrupts the wedding super-awkwardly but he wasn't the groom and OMG WTF! So maybe Ben will meet Locklear under the Brooklyn Bridge. Nope, just Holly. Holly tells her mom like it is. Good. Fred made Holly a comic book and it freaks her out. So now they're moving? Oh, Fred. So sweet. They're going to move to Arizona like it's so easy? I guess if you're a great baker! Locklear is totally IMing in place of her daughter with Fred. It is weird. Again. Thank Our Sexiest Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ in His Gayest Heaven that my parents and I were never up in each other's business like this. Gross.

Ben reads all the stupid fake emails between "him" and Locklear. Locklear's decided they aren't going to move again and Holly's all huffy about it. God, Locklear's had some work done. Their "new adventure" is going to be staying, apparently. Carson Kressley mis-judging a football game and drinking red wine out of  a  giant fancy glass in a sports arena cracks me up. Apparently Locklear works in a fancy cake shop now and Ben finds her there. They totes have a date. Holly's going to a dance with Fred, even though he's got a black shirt with some sort of dark burgundy jacket/bowtie thing that is terrible. "The Teenage Gypsy has finally settled down." GROSS.***

This was terrible and satisfying in its terribleness. 3/5 ironic thumbs up.


*I get excited if I complete one past Wednesday, and I am a goddamn word puzzle champion, people.
**I think he's too good for Stacy on DDD, BTWs.
*** Also, racist. The preferred nomenclature is CLEARLY "Roma."

April of the Day: Lazy insomniacs unite!

Hi friends,

I'm awake after 3:00 a.m., which is not that late for me and I am totes going to pour another drink because I don't have to be to work for 9 hours and booze is in the top 5 of my best friends (no numerical rankings available). But also April is amazing and I feel like I do shit like this on a regular basis, but then I see it on awesome TV shows and start to wonder if I'm, like, derivative. Then I remember that I met one of my closest friends in college calculus and my Perpetual Roommate kind of tutored me through it, so math ain't all bad. Anyway, why my half of the bedroom looks the way it does:

The rabbit hole starts here.

April of the Day

My love of Parks & Rec is known near and far, but I have to say that one of my favorite parts of the show is how much April tries to/actually hates everything. Sometimes she reminds me of me. This may become a regular feature.

This is me, but instead of Tom and Ann talking, you can replace that with worrying about grad school/underemployment/having to be an adult all the time/whatever:

Source. Via.

The champagne bottle is particularly accurate to my everyday life.

From the Late Night Cable Movie Files: A Nightmare on Elm Street

I'm pretty sure my brothers used to try to scare me with stories about Freddy Krueger, even though I'd never seen this movie--an authentically 1980s childhood experience, I'd say.

So, because I grew up Mormon and also apparently thought I didn't like horror movies until relatively recently, I've never seen some classic films. One of these is A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)--nor have I seen any of the 92378598 sequels. It is Halloween night (at least still according to Mountain Time) and it is on TV right now. I will try to overcome my early Halloween partying to bring you all my important thoughts/insights/recapping abilities to this film.

Horror Movie Victim White Nightgowns 'R Us: $22.99.

A young blonde girl is wandering, frightened, though some kind of factory. If you'll notice, all horror movies feature a young girl in a long white nightgown, which no one has actually worn to bed since at least 1963. Freddy Krueger tears a sheet. There's a fire. And a cat? Blondie wakes up in her be-crucifixed room and her mom is like, "Why'd you tear your nightgown?" Her name is Tina. Tina tells her lady friend at school about her dream, who also had a nightmare last night. Johnny Depp is the friend's boyfriend, and he has very poofy hair. He's not even creepy yet.

I knew it! Tina is Beth from Better Off Dead. Now I'll just imagine her face on all of the hangers in Freddy's closet. But anyway, Tina and her friend and Johnny Depp are hanging out at Tina's. Tina's mom is conveniently out of town. Tina and the other girl had the same dream about Old Knife-y Hands. Sketchy Rod shows up to try to fuck Tina. She at least acts like she's not into it, but her friends let him drag her off to her mom's bed. Ew. But apparently she is into it? And Rod also had a nightmare last night. This is so stupid so far. All the sexing teenagers will die first. OBVS.

In another room, the other girl is lying in bed, asleep (SANS Johnny Depp). And somebody tries to break through the ceiling. Which is stretchy? And the girl puts a cross back up on that wall. Tina hears some shit outside and GOES OUT THERE with no pants on. Tina clearly deserves to die as a creepy whisper from the shed calls her name and she's like, "I should totally go over there." And now Freddy is there in the alley and his arms are super-long (like Stretch Armstrong) and he tells her his hand is god. And now he's chopping off the fingers on his non-knife hand with the knife hand. Which, you've got to admit, is kind of awesome. Now Rod wakes up because Tina is thrashing around in bed and he watches as an unseen force slices her open and throws her against the wall, and now she's on the ceiling and bleeding. Those sheets are NOT going to come clean. Johnny Depp and the other girl rush in and are like, "WTF?" Fucking Beth from BOD. This is punishment for getting with Stalin.

I'm seeing if a fresh drink perks me up at all. The cops think Tina was attacked by her boyfriend, a "musician type." TROUBLE. One of the cops is the other girl's dad. And she's like, "She was totes scared of her murder dreams." The local news claims that the girl was fifteen (maybe, like, twenty-one, at the youngest). On the way to school, the other girl gets grabbed by Rod, who is shirtless and shoeless and the subject of a city-wide manhunt. He can get arrested in that state, but not go into a 7-11. Oh, her name is Nancy. And her dad totally just used her as a lure for Rod so the cops could catch him. Some lady English teacher affectionately touches Nancy's shoulder for a bit too long. Nancy, who didn't sleep last night. As some douchey kid in a surf shirt reads some Shakespeare aloud, Nancy has a (dream?) vision of Tina in a body bag. She follows a trail of blood down the hallways of the school and the hall monitor girl is also Freddy maybe? Those are some pretty deadly bangs.

In her dreams, Nancy goes down into the school's basement, which is always a good idea. She thinks she'll find Tina there, I guess. Freddy is there, and when he slices his own chest, wild rice maggots come out! When Freddy corners her, she is like, "It's just a dream." She wakes herself up by laying her arm across a hot pipe and it is SO awkward in her English class when she wakes up screaming. Though she does really have a burn on her arm. Nancy goes to see be-leathered Rod in jail. Nancy gets freaked out when she realizes they're all nightmaring the same knife-hand guy. Oh man, I've had so much candy tonight. Delish.

Cut to: Nancy taking a bath, where she is laying on some weird blow-up pillow. Oh, and also she dozes off and Freddy's hand starts to come out of the water. Luckily, her mom interrupts. But now she dozes off again, and Freddy pulls her under. This is apparently a really deep tub. She screams a bunch, and her mom has to jimmy the lock to get into the bathroom, at which point, Nancy is all, "What no, I totally wasn't screaming for you." And then she takes some caffeine pills. Great idea Nancy, lay down in bed while watching a horror movie. That'll keep the deadly nightmares away. But don't worry, Johnny Depp has climbed up her house's trellis and comes in to secretly hang out. Wow, Captain Jack Sparrow's hair is poofy here. Even poofier than early X-Files Mulder. Okay, Nancy's wandering around outside in her pajamas (BAD IDEA, DIDN'T YOU SEE YOUR DEAD FRIEND'S DREAM EARLIER?), but Johnny (Glen?) is keeping an eye on her. Where the fuck is she? A sketchy alley on her way to the police station, apparently.

Nancy creepily looks through the jail window and sees Freddy go after a sleeping Rod. Nancy keeps yelling for Glen, but I guess she must've fallen asleep or something? Freddy chases her home. And now her staircase is filled with marshmallow goo. Glen is sleeping in her bedroom as Nancy tries to convince herself to wake up. They both wake up to her alarm clock. She is not dead yet. She and Glen rush to the police station/jail to check on Rod. Her dad is unfortunately there, and is like, "My daughter is mixed up in an unsolved murder and other things cops say." Meanwhile, Rod's sheet is choking him. He is hanging in the jail window, and apparently dies even though he was only up there for like ten seconds before Nancy convinced her dad to go down and check on him.

I'm kind of digging Nancy's funeral dress. Dadcop looks freaked out when she starts describing Freddy and he orders his wife to take her home. But she's like, "I'm taking her to the hospital." Nancy submits to a sleep study or something? The mom's like, "What are dreams?" And the sleep doctor says something like, "the body's hocus-pocus." GOOD SCIENCE, SCIENCE GUY. Also, the mom is smoking in the clinic. The doctor is like, "She's totally normal," but then Nancy starts freaking the fuck out. They rush in and wake her up, and she's got a big gash on her arm and Freddy's hat. Bro, Freddy will be back for that shit. Way to go, Nancy.

Apparently the name "Fred Krueger" is in the hat. Also apparently, Nancy's over-tanned mom likes the pills. Her mom's like, "Sure, he's a real guy, but he's dead and also I'm hiding my vodka from you." Glen is a nervous eater and is trying to tell her about some sort of Balinese concept of dreaming. What is he, actually Mulder? Nancy comes home to find bars on all the windows and the trellis destroyed. Her mom is like, "Come in the basement so I can tell you about all the kids the real Fred murdered. We just lynched him a little bit because of that damn DUE PROCESS." Also, she says, "Mommy killed him." Why is she speaking to her teenage daughter in the third person like that? Also, why the FUCK would she keep his knife glove in her basement furnace oven thing? Talk about asking for a haunting. BTWs, there's a super-creepy commercial on for some online streaming porn shit that is full of exploding beverages and bursting hoses and fire hydrants. It is real gross because of sperm. Spike TV is so classy.

The '80s were a delightfully innocent time, were they not?

Johnny Depp lounges in sweats and a cropped football jersey. DREAMY. Seven days-non-sleeped Nancy claims she's going to bring Freddy out of her dreams like she did his hat and then they can re-kill him or something. Don't fall asleep before your nightmare-murdering appointment, Glen! But he is totes falling asleep. Meanwhile, Nancy's got a full-on coffee pot in her bedroom. She catches her mom taking slugs off a vodka bottle from the linen closet. She tries to call Glen, but his dad won't let her talk to him and actually takes the phone off the hook. Nancy gets a phone call from a squeaky mouse, apparently. Now the phone is ringing, even though Nancy broke it after the mouse called. I don't think she's awake anymore, you guys. She answers it and Freddy is like, "Girl, I wanna be with you. I know you've been hurting, girl, and I've been trying to kill you, but girl, I just wanna put my tongue in your mouth while I slash you open because of your parents' ill-advised vigilante violence."

Worst Livelinks chat EVAR.

Meanwhile, Glen has passed out, he gets sucked into his bed, and exorbitant amounts of blood spray out. One of the cops says to the EMTs, "You don't need a stretcher up there, you need a mop." BOOM! Haha, the blood is leaking out of the ceiling downstairs. Nancy tells her dad to show up in twenty minutes when she brings Freddy out of her dreams, and he's like, "Yeah, okay, little lady. Just go to sleep." He does not understand that SLEEP = DEATH. I do not think he will show up in twenty minutes to get Fred Krueger. She tries to set traps for Freddy. Apparently this will take less than twenty minutes. I find this hard to believe. Nancy also has time to talk to her drunk mom. Her mom tries to teach her to numb her pain and push down bad feelings. Her mom's not even going to cuddle with that 1.75 of Kamchatka tonight, that's how good she is at avoidance. Nancy sets an alarm and prepares herself for battle and says that creepy "If I die before I wake" prayer. FORESHADOWING MUCH?

This geyser of blood shall henceforth be known as Old Fredful.

Nancy dreams she is in her house. She goes down to the basement and looks for Freddy's glove. It's not there. She finds a door to a sub-basement (Freddy's boiler room murder lair, obvs) and goes down there. She taunts Freddy to follow her and tries to pull him through when she wakes up. It does not work. But is she REALLY awake? I do not know, but I guess he is actually there with her. Drunk mom has locked her in and her dad's not coming. The sledgehammer booby trap is ineffective, so she sets him on fire in the basement. Is she trying to trigger Freddy's PTSD? I mean, he got all burnt up before and all. Her dad finally comes home. They follow fiery footsteps upstairs where Freddy is trying to kill her mom. Then her mom sinks down into the bed, charred or something? Maybe her mom was the dream, all along. Freddy comes back out of the bed. She tells him she's "taking back" her energy and finds herself in the light of day, with her mom claiming she wants to get sober and Nancy is wearing some hideous high-waisted shorts. And her friends are still fine and pick her up in a car that is actually Freddy? Or something. Whatever. Everyone dies.

Lauren Live Blogs Oven Mitt v. O-Bombz

With drinking, of course!

Drunk Ghost Hunting and other business

Guys, remember when I posted that hilarious drunk ghost-hunting teaser video? I finally finished editing the actual "ghost-hunting" parts of the footage, so here it be:



Also, you have a few more days to enter my Neuro giveaway contest! Do you or someone you know need to calm the fuck down and/or get the fuck off the couch? Get yerself a free case of neuroBLISS or neuroSONIC courtesy of M80. Email me your reasons why you should get it. Or don't even include reasons, just tell me you want them, and you just might win because no one else is entering. I'll color you a picture just for entering! Do it now, otherwise Scout (kitty), Lola (doggy), and their lovely owner Elissa will win them ALL and you will be SOL:

You even don't want to see how vicious she gets on caffeine, bro.

Clearly, this one's the frontrunner so far.

Get ready for drunk ghost hunting, friends.

The internet has helped us document and enjoy drunk history and drunk cooking, why not drunk ghost hunting? (I refuse to Google that shit, because somebody else is probably already doing it.)

Behold:



Stay tuned here/on YouTube/whatever for all the spooky findings!

From the Late Night Cable Movie Files: My Bloody Valentine

Apparently this shitty remake came out in theaters. In 3D. I will concede that those mining masks are pretty fucking creepy.

Guys, I watched this movie a couple of nights ago with Isaac on the Syfy channel. We missed the first ten minutes, but its terrible/awesomeness sucked us in. I should say that I was too lazy to blog it at the time and apparently this is a 2009 remake of a 1981 film. But I will blog it ANYWAY. I will Google some photos, but mostly I will recall the highlights from my own (now) drunken memory and I am sure it will fill you all with magic and you will be like, "Netflix, send me this shit!"

Soooo, apparently ten years ago a disgruntled mine worker named Harry went crazy or something (I didn't see the beginning, so sue me) and killed, like, a bunch of people. The police shot him a lot maybe and/or he was buried alive in the murder mines. Teenagers like Tom and Axel and a redheaded woman and some other chick barely escaped with their lives. Okay fine, the redhead is named Sarah.

FLASH FORWARD 10 YEARS: Tom, whose father owned the notorious mines, comes back to town following his padre's death to sell the mines to the highest bidder, who will probably bring in some out-of-state hardcore miners to replace all the townspeople who RELY ON THE MINES for economic stuff or whatever. People are pissed he is going to sell the mines. Also, that he ran away immediately following that time when that crazed miner almost killed him. But Sarah is like, "Oh, hey." And they used to date ten years ago, but now she's married to "Axel," which is not a name outside of Scandinavia, and they have a little boy and also he's a philanderer and the town's sheriff. OBVS.

Shortly after Tom reaches town, some dude gets killed, and then another dude, and then a gratuitously naked lady whose nipples have been tastefully edited out for the cable viewing audience. With a PICKAXE, which was old Harry's weapon of choice. Blahblahblah don't remember, suspicion falls on Tom pretty early. FACT: about 36 minutes in (including commercials), I said to Isaac, I says, "It seems pretty clear Tom's the killer, but it's too early for that, so there's got to be a twist." SPOILER ALERT: Tom is the killer. Tom is played by some generic CW actor and I didn't want him to be the killer, but apparently he's been in lots of mental hospitals because of, like, PTSD or whatever, and/or the evil spirit of Harry is possessing him?

Note: Harry is dead. He is totally dead and not killing more people now.

I could explain all the shit that happens in the movie or whatever, but this is all you need to know. You figure out the killer super-early and though there are a few spectacular deaths (one early on involves mid-skull decapitation with a mining shovel), it's mostly just shitty but compelling enough to keep watching. Even though Axel is cheating on his wife and has sketchy facial hair, do not be confused. He is just a terrible husband, not an actual killer. And Tom is super mentally ill, so it's not even fun in an evil kind of way. Oh also, the original massacre took place on Valentine's Day. Hence the title and all the chocolate boxes that sometimes have human hearts inside, etc.

Whatevs.

Final rating: 3/5 ironic thumbs up. Fun enough with all the cartoonish violence, but the real killer was way too obvious.

The I Love America Diet Caters Your Next Party!

Guys, have you been looking for that perfect snack to serve your friends that will impress them and also fill them with cheese, patriotism, and federal dietary standards? Phyllis Ann George has come through for you, then!

Brock and I made the Beef and Cheese Log. It is as ridiculous as it sounds:

Understanding the basics of the I Love America Diet

This weekend my buddy Brock came over and worked on some I Love America Diet stuff. By finishing the birthday Kraken and taking one costumed late-night trip to Wal-Mart for supplies, we were able to produce enough material for two videos. This first lays out some basic elements of the diet and tells you how to manage your boozing in a skinny and patriotic way. The construction of the beef and cheese log to come soon!



(Excuse the video quality, I can only do so much with a built-in webcam and a really bright lamp on one side and whatever, it's good enough for comedy.)

Energy Drink Review: Rockstar Recovery

Friends! I have broken down and bought one of these hangover energy drinks that are so trendy right now. The Monster people have some bullshit tea-based ones floating around, but I think tea tastes like watered-down hamster food most of the time, so I refuse to try one. Anyway, at my local booze (but not liquor) dispensary, I saw a bright orange Rockstar can that claimed to give both energy and hydration. It is also juice-based, which is one for the pro column. I decided to take one home with me (after paying, duh) because I have been doing a lot of things recently like laying out in the sun for four hours or going for runs (jogs, let's be honest about my speed) in 90-degree weather and/or daytime drinking and ending up with dehydration headaches when I want to be getting drunker. I went for a run today, and though I try to be vigilant about hydration, I'm hoping this Rockstar Recovery orange beverage will get me in good shape to open that Rite Aid-purchased bottle of champagne I bought to drink during The Bachelorette.

There is no sober viewing of The Bachelorette. It's almost up there with Extras on the scale of things I can't handle without at least a slight buzz. Don't get me wrong, they are both wonderful for very, very divergent reasons, but the discomfort I feel about things on the screen will lead me to hide under a blanket unless I have some alcohol in me to cushion the blow. Sometimes I still hide from the awkwardness, but it's less intense if I'm drunk. ANYWAY, I'm giving this orange guy a go.

Where were you when I had an 8:00 a.m. job?

Flavor: it's not carbonated, but its flavor runs along the lines of a tasty orange soda. It doesn't taste flat, though, just very tangy compared to straight juice. Although, I rarely drink orange juice without vodka (or at least champagne) in it, so I'm probably not good judge anymore. Luckily it avoids the sickly sweetness of Sunny D that I still associate with car sickness because my mom used to buy it for the annual 12 hour car pilgrimage to Utah. The rest of the time we drank juice from concentrate because it's cheap, but it doesn't come with a screw-on top.

Effectiveness: the can says it contains both electrolytes and high caffeine, which I think is something I could get into. I think by the way I've been rambling in this post, I can tell I'm feeling a little something extra. A spring in my typing fingers, one might say.

Update: I'm feeling pretty good. Usually at this time of day, after having my second meal and perhaps doing something productive, I tend to feel lethargic and want to take a nap despite only having been up for like 4 or 5 hours, but this drink is helping me feel pumped about blogging more here in a few minutes. Well, also it's been two weeks since the disastrous return of GET BENTley on The Bachelorette, so it's just adding to the natural anticipation. I will update later on after I've had some boozes to let you know if I felt like I stayed better hydrated.

Lauren's take: Highly recommended.

I haven't been doing much energy drink research since I finished my thesis over a year ago and didn't want to think about where taurine comes from or who designs those ridiculous cans anymore, but the folks over at BevNet ("The Beverage Industry's Source") have also given this drink a highly positive review.

A number of items of business

Friends,

1. A friend of mine on Facebook has revealed to me the fact that Three Olives Vodka now has a "DUDE" Mountain Dew flavor. As I can attest from a mistake over reunion weekend, vodka in a can of Mountain Dew is pretty gross, but perhaps this flavor in something else wouldn't be too bad. I heard it's available at at least one bar in town, though I prefer to do vodka tastings by the bottle and in my home, so I may wait until it comes to the actual liquor store (there's only one). Anyway, bro drinks = important news on this blog.
 
2. Seriously, it seemed people were excited about advice from the Sexy Gay Jesus (including one particular blogger I admire who condescended to this here blog to ask Our Sexy Lord and Savior's opinion on bouncing back from a breakup, romantic comedy-style). I've had friends in person claim they would send SGJ questions, but they have failed to do so. Consider this a guilting/reminder to submit something. Clicka-clicka on my profile over there and email me (the SGJ doesn't need his own email account, he can just turn on his omniscience whenever he wants. He usually doesn't want, just like Mr. Deity--see below.) Do you want 2000+ years' worth of life experience tinged with glitter and rainbows to go to waste? I did not think so.



3. Google has offered that I can do something with the blog layout settings that will make it fancy/attractive for people who may read this on a mobile device. Do people really read blogs on their phones? Is my page difficult to view on such a device? Should I bother with this? Also: I checked my analytics stats recently and people from, like, Bulgaria and Laos have somehow stumbled upon my blog. So, Здравейте and ສະບາຍດີ to you, international websurfers! Come for the frequent use of the phrase "sexy gay" that directs traffic here and stay for the ridiculousness.

I one-up of Heloise's hinters

Using excess chopsticks for stirring paint is fine, but clearly a superior re-purposing is for stirring COCKTAILS!

Odd: of the dozens (hundreds?) of drunk pictures of myself I have, I couldn't find one where I was stirring with a chopstick. I suppose most photo documentation happens during the drinking and aftermath process, not the actual making the drink part.

Some things that are true about fatness and/or the personal perception thereof

1. I will never go on a diet. I won't pretend that I don't have body image issues; I'm a young lady in America, of course I think I'm fat. Fact: my mother has been on a diet for as long as I can remember, and I find it sad but also affecting. I have intellectually subscribed to various aspects of the fat acceptance movement (mostly when they don't apply to my own body), but I don't believe diets work (permanently) and they encourage a neurotic relationship with food. And as an already neurotic person with variously unhealthy dietary and appetite-related issues with food because of depression and anxiety, I find it best to try and make myself not think about how fat I actually am (which is not actually fat; fatness not actually being a moral wrong). What I'm saying is: please don't go on a diet. I want to try and be healthier (slightly less couch-laying and ramen-eating), and though it is difficult to separate that from ideas of thinness, it is necessary so I can avoid hating myself.

2. I looked very recently like this (with a bearded boyfriend, obvs):

I do not post this so people can be all, "But you're so skinny," because that game is boring and unhealthy. I just want to post it to say that I have not worked this shit out. I'm intellectually accepting of the fat acceptance movement and have always been kind of hostile to the idea of dieting. But as a thin(-ish) person, I want to throw out there that I still have trouble in my own mind with expectations that my stomach be flat and my thighs be toned. And truth be told, I'm rarely that thin unless I exercise a lot in conjunction with depression-related appetite suppression. Maybe I'm coming out as a relatively thin person who still thinks she's not thin enough. It's a problem, I know, but something I'm trying to work on without hurting myself. I'm not really sure why I started this post, but there 'tis (fact: I am drunk). I think it's always good to throw out there how much all of us have internalized cultural gendered bullshit, and despite my ample academically backed-up skills to challenge that nonsense, I still buy into it to a degree. I hate the world sometimes (that is what the combination of booze and Prozac was made for), but I also care enough to try and deconstruct that shit.

State of the Union Announcement

Dear America, I could probably cover this by writing on my sister's facebook wall, but here 'tis on the blog anyway: I won't be covering the State of the Union address tonight. Two large reasons: 1) THESIS and 2) I am not drinking right now, and sobriety kind of defeats the whole purpose of watching political speeches. In other news, the state of this blog is kind of on hold until I finish this thesis thing. But I'm done with PhD apps, and have one chapter written, so not all is pain and woe. Enjoy the pretty presidentialin' talking without me. And take a drink every time Nancy Pelosi and/or Joe Biden makes an awesome face behind the president. Loooove, Laurennn

America's Dairyland: WISCONSIN IS AWESOME

The King and Queen of Wisconsin.

Wisconsin! It is our nation's 30th state, inducted into our hallowed union in 1848. The land itself was first inhabited by Indians (duh), but then explored by French fur trappers and traders who "leased" a bunch of the land for like a million years (actually 999) from the natives. The French passed off the land to the British in 1763, and though technically the U.S. won it in the Revolutionary War, Great Britain governed the land for all intents and purposes until the War of 1812 when we kicked those redcoat sons of bitches back to their foggy imperial homeland. The state's name is some sort of Algonquin to French to English bastardization of a word that may or may not have meant something about redness of the rocks in some parts of the Wisconsin River. Wisconsin also borders a couple Great Lakes instead of Canada, making it the northernmost non-Canadia-touching state. The landscape was carved out by something actually called the Wisconsin Glaciation, the last glacial period in North America. So that's awesome for all you geology nerds or whatever. Wisconsin was eventually largely settled by German and Norwegian Lutheran types, like Minnesota and other places where they serve "hot dish."* Madison is its capital, though Milwaukee is its largest city. Madison is home of the state's second-largest employer (after Wal-Mart), the University of Wisconsin-Madison and its Badger sports teams. Milwaukee is home to the NBA's Bucks and MLB's Brewers. I do not care about those things, but all good Wisconsinites or "Cheeseheads" are fans of the Green Bay Packers. Brett Favre is actually part of the Wisconsin Lutheran Catechism.** Wisconsin is the nation's leader in cheese production and falls only behind California in milk and butter production overall. This is because the hills of Wisconsin are made of cheese. Much like the moon. Or they have a lot of cows and loooove their cheese. Cheese curds make up their own food group there, actually. Fuck fruits and vegetables, MORE CHEESE PLEEZE! Wisconsin has a rich political heritage, including awesomely-behaired Progressive politician Robert La Follette, everyone's favorite 1950s Senator Joe McCarthy, and the only Senator to vote against the USAPatriot Act in 2001, Russ Feingold, who is not so secretly awesome. In addition, and more importantly, Wisconsin hosts more country music festivals than any other state. Even Texas! Or Tennessee! Or the other ones! The city of Milwaukee is the historical home of several classy breweries, including Schlitz, Blatz, and Pabst, and is still home to Miller.*** Popular tourist sites in the state are the Wisconsin Dells which I've seen from the freeway and is home to several culturally problematic indoor water parks and also Door County, where one of my former roommates is from. So it's real, is what I'm saying. I sometimes like to say that Wisconsinites are the beautiful rednecks of the upper midwest. By which I mean, I said it once before we went there on vacation last week.

Beer, beer, beer, beer. I don't even like beer and I appreciate Wisconsin's beeriness.

Here are some awesome things about Wisconsin that I have not already mentioned: 1. UW-Madison is a well-known party school and the city itself is notorious for its huge Halloween celebrations. 2. Awesome regional boozes of bizarre coloring. 3. Bars every 50 yards in rural lake areas. 4. Cheese. 'Cuz, yum. 5. Hunters like booze. I like booze. 6. Supper clubs. Especially ones that have random semi-exotic petting zoos:

At Anello's Torchlight in Shawano, WI. Ka$h warned us away from the baby zebra, but I did approach the giant scary camel and also petted a donkey and taunted the llamas behind the fence.

7. While I don't necessarily endorse illegal behaviors (and definitely not drunk driving), there is something to be said for having some awesomely high alcohol consumption rates. 8. Last, but not least, some of my favorite people are from Wisconsin.

Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Wisconsin. BTW: Isaac tried that neon-green Limon and even took a shot on a challenge from Ka$h. We tried it here with lemonade and it was DELICIOUS and not even super green jello-y.

*Non-upper-midwesterners often call this type of meal a "casserole." **I'm pretty sure Lutherans don't do catechism, but whatever, Brett Favre = A BIG DEAL. Or at least he did before he fake retired like 12 times. ***Which is still making Sparks, though Wikipedia claims the caffeinated version is no longer being brewed, though it's still on store shelves, people! WHAT ABOUT THE CHILDREN?!

Exotic Vacation: Upper Midwest Edition

Hellooo friends, Guess who is going on vacation for, like, eight whole days. Can you guess? It's me! And Isaac! Hooray! And we are going to the magical college friend-filled land of Minnesota where I will have what will surely be a lovely but short reunion with my WIG Anne, who might become Canadian or something, as she rushes off to her next European adventure. Also, copious drinking and eating and cavorting that I can't really afford will occur and also HARRY POTTER 3D IMAX AWESOME. Then we will head up to the Perpetual Roommate's grandparents' abode in Wisconsin to drink in the sun on the lake, the sleazy rural bars, and all the classiness that Wisconsin generally has to offer. We are leaving tomorrow. Huzzah! I am not sure if I will blogging, as it is vacation and I don't want to make any solid plans besides making sure I drink at all my favorite places while I'm in town. My dear, kind Pal N has agreed to let us stay at her place in Minneapolis while she's out of town in exchange for not killing her cats. I'm bringing lots of sudafed and benedryl. But we should have the webernets there, so I'll probably at least check in during that first part of the week. Anyway, I thought I'd let you know, dear readers, what the what was. I'm going to try and work for home for a bit, and then my dear friend Emily of Obamanagrams fame will be here for one crazy night only. Fun is fun, isn't it? Love and cheap, region-specific liquors of odd coloring and taste, Lauren