Sunday, February 21, 2010

Monday Morning S--t Storm!!!

One thing we aspire to accomplish here at GRH is to know our readers. After may hours of intensive focus groups, polling, and examining spreadsheets that don't mean anything, we've come to one conclusion.

Hobbers get their drank on.

If you look at our mission statement you'll notice that we try to focus upon sports AND culture, so that's what we're gonna do right here.

The shit storm is as follows:

Favorite drink plus favorite bar game.

If you talk to other GRH staff members they'll tell you that I am a beer man, which is true. Nothing beats beats a nice frosty frat soda. I could drink it when it's 97 degrees outside and I'm drinking it now when the temperature is 30. In my opinion beer can get you through anything.

But beer is boring.

So my drink for the shit storm is a good ole vodka tonic. Is it for old people? yes. Is it for alchoholics? Perhaps. Is it delightfully refreshing? Fuck and yes. And know this, the initials for a vodka tonic is VT same as the pussy state of Vermont AND the Virginia Tech Hokies.

I think I'll take my chance with the Hokies.

Now to the bar game.

This is a tough one, the game I'm best at is obviously trivia night, but whenever we win I can't help but walking out of a bar feeling like a huge nerd. I also like darts and I feel that I'm pretty decent, HOWEVAH, that game is way too British for my taste. So the pick here is billiards.

I suck at pool but I can't help from feeling like a badass whenever I chalk up a cue. "The Hustler" was on the other day and I always want to become Minnesota Fats and beat punk ass kids in 24 hour epic pool battles. This will never happen, but it's still fun to think about.

So there's my pick, lets hear your take Hobbers.

Shit Storm Begin.


  1. Get a giant cup. Fill one half with Sailor Jerry's rum, one half with coke. Turn on a basketball game. Find a random role player on the team. Drink every time he does anything.

    I call it the "ZaZa Pachulia."

  2. Bourbon, on ice. A little soda if you're so inclined, but not much.

    And I always thought power hour was neat, especially when a sweet mix CD was involved.

  3. Power hour while watching Blue Crush, or any other surfing movie. Don't ask me why, it just works well.

  4. Gin, prepared as follows. Wait for a liquor store to close for the night. Load a trebuchet with broken hunks of asphalt. Launch from a safe distance of 200-500yds, depending on the radius of the throwing arm. Ideally, position the release such that the asphalt falls through the ceiling.

    Assemble your fellow bums for a mission impossible entrance; always double check your safety harnesses BEFORE attaching them to the lowering winch. Keep two men on the ground, one holding the ladder, the other looking out for cops.

    Start lowering in your gunner. He needs to be somebody reliable, somebody that knows a motion detector when he sees one and has the discipline not to trip it when he sees the booze. Once the coast is clear, send down the duffle bags.

    From there, just remember, "SMOOTH IS FAST." This isn't a footrace, and you likely aren't wearing reliable shoes, so just remember to keep breathing and work efficiently. Don't overload the duffle bags. And for God's sake, don't use trash bags, because we know how that will end.

    Make sure you take the paperbags too, or they'll KNOW you stole the bottles. I recommend rubbing dirt or body oil all over the bottles once you've bagged them; it'll provide that "2 day old, possibly mixed w/ urine" look that'll throw off the dogs once they make their rounds through the park in a couple of hours.

  5. Well, we're not going to top that.

  6. I no longer care about my job performance.

  7. And here I thought my Hustler references were pretty good.