Archive for the Fun… Category

Lesser Dangers: Episode 2

Posted in Fun... with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 21, 2009 by thebrewyorker

You have been warned. Repeatedly. Yet still you commit errors whilst heavily drinking. We’ll tell you one more time, but this is it: beware!

Youtube link here.

Advertisements

Failed Advertising Presents: Guinness Boy

Posted in Fun... with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 13, 2009 by thebrewyorker

If you’ve ever been at a bar, then you know the kind of commotion that the arrival of a Miller Lite Girl or Corona Lass can cause. Drunken idiots falling over themselves to impress moderately attractive women, free visors, and the subtle but omnipresent pressure to order a brew of the ladies’ employer (no matter how much you don’t want to drink it). Guinness experimented with this kind of thing a few years back, but apparently something in the details was lost on the trip across the pond…

YouTube link here.

Nancy Mahoney for Bronx Borough President

Posted in Fun... with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 6, 2009 by thebrewyorker

This November, please vote for Nancy Mahoney for Bronx Borough President. If she won’t protect our rights, then who will?

YouTube link here.

Thank You, Alcohol: Jake’s Texas Story

Posted in Fun... with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 1, 2009 by thebrewyorker

Jake had a fun time in Texas. Others didn’t. Check it.

YouTube link is here.

I’m Scared

Posted in Editorial, Fun... with tags , , , , , , , on May 19, 2009 by thebrewyorker

I read a couple articles today that when taken together, scared the beejeesus out of me, and I’d like to see what I can do about sharing my fear with you.

First off, it seems that America is responding to the economic crises the way that a country like ours is supposed to.  We’re drinking more beer.  That’s right.  America has decided that the economy, she’s an ugly bitch, and the only way to look at her is through the gentle light of beer goggles.  Nothing wrong there.

Unfortunately, our counterpoints on the other side of the pond have decided to go a different way.  Brits have started to consume less alcohol!  In fact, they’ve just reported their first quarter of decline in sales since 1997!  This is terrifying, folks.  And if you’re not scared already, then keep reading.

See, Britain’s like our older brother who’s already figured out how to do most of the things we’re trying to do.  Except his teeth are worse, his accent’s better, and he has health care. Plus subsidies for writers.  (Where do I vote for that?)  But Britain’s already figured out how to be a (mildly) racist, xenophobic bunch of imperialist dicks, just like we want to be, but unlike us, he’s actually figured out how to make the rest of the world like him while he’s doing it.  And with his healthier populace and better way of getting kids into school, the only way we were standing a chance was because of the high alcoholism of his people.

Though I don’t have immediate experience on this one, I do have the experience of my cousin, who went off to England for a year and was having problems with the gin within weeks.  It’s the kind of country that allowed that sort of thing to happen to someone, and it did great work on dulling Britain’s potential so that a young upstart like us could come along and become the massively overcompensating super-power we all know and love.

But with Britain drinking less to save money and us drinking more to forget that we no longer have any, the tables are in a severe state of tipping, and if we don’t change things fast, they’ll flip.  But don’t worry, folks.  I‘ve got a solution: let’s start donating some of our beer to Britain.

Think about it.  We buy our beer, which stimulates our economy.  We use pay American postal networks to ship the beer oversees, once again, good for our economy, and Britain gets to drink without paying for it.  Britain’s population falls back to its alcoholic stupor, American companies get a bit more money, and status quo remains.  Otherwise, what have we got to keep us safe?  Aside of course from a military budget that’s bigger than that of everyone else in the world put together.  But how far’s that going to really take us anyway?

– Jake

Great People In Beer History: FDR

Posted in Beer Culture..., Editorial, Fun... with tags , , , , , , , on May 16, 2009 by thebrewyorker

To most Franklin Delano Roosevelt is known as the president who got us out of the Great Depression (or as I call it, the “So-So Depression”). But to devoted drinkers he is the president that repealed Prohibition. Yes, in 1932 when Roosevelt ran for the presidency he promised thirsty Americans that he would repeal Prohibition for good. This took a certain amount of bravery considering only a measly forty-six states were in favor of tasting the sweet nectar of alcohol once more. By December 5, 1933 the Twenty-first Amendment was formed thus making Prohibition a horrific idea of the past. Now the idea is only used to scare children at camp-outs.

FDR was born January 30, 1882 in (you guessed it) New York. He came from a wealthy family. He learned the finer things in life such as tennis, horseback riding and how to drink scotch like a man. He then went to Columbia Law School and dropped out after two years. We can only assume it was because he really knew how to party. Then he married his wife, Eleanor. Eleanor was a quiet woman, but she could hold her liquor. Rumor has it the two met during a beer chugging contest. When Franklin saw the foam dripping from her delicate mouth, he knew he had to have her.

But it wasn’t all horse riding and beer chugging for Franklin. In 1921 he suffered from polio and became paralyzed from the waist down. Luckily he managed to impregnate Eleanor six times beforehand. But being confined to a wheelchair didn’t stop Delanorama from his greatest achievement: Becoming the best president since Herbert Hoover.

Roosevelt had two goals in mind as president: fix the friggin’ economy and get a glass of whiskey back in his hand. The two ideas went hand in hand. FDR had the insight to realize that the Depression was a bummer and people were a lot happier when they were loaded. What better way to soothe the sting of America’s breakdown than alcohol? It would be a long road to financial recovery, but now they were going to have some flavored schnapps to help them along the way. Now that’s what I call a New Deal.

Everyone knows alcohol boosts moral. You never had the guts to ask that girl in the library out on a date because you feared that she would reject you. But with the help of alcohol not only are you banned from the library, you’re also banned from being within fifty feet of her. Booze helps us face the realities and the fears of life. It helped us through the dark days of the Depression. It helped us fight the Nazi menace. It helped us to find the humor in Mickey Rooney movies. And by the time one of America’s darkest periods was over, America was too drunk to thank the man with the plan.

So, the next time you place that funnel in your mouth or shotgun that beer, remember the man who gave you the freedom to do that: Franklin Delano Roosevelt. FDR, we salute you! For your courage. For your intelligence. And for your ability to drink Winston Churchill under the table.

– Will

How To Never Grow Up

Posted in Beer Culture..., Editorial, Fun... with tags , , , , , , , on May 14, 2009 by thebrewyorker

I’m going to tell a quick story about a company I used to work for.  To protect myself from libel lawsuits, I’m going to change the names of the company, location, employees, line of work, as well as any other details that could lead to someone.  Everything else, though, is true, except that I sort of combined two or three experiences into one.  But other than that, it’s all true.

I used to think that when you left college, the party ended.  No more getting drunk and yelling at your friends and colleagues!  Time to be a man.  That was, until, I became employed as a factory worker for the Rainer Werner Fassbinder Textile Manufacturing Plant (a.k.a. “Rawftemp) shortly after I graduated from Absalom University.  Now, Rawftemp was a young company; the CEO, Coralino Macawber, was barely forty, an ex-frat boy who graduated from Surf University in the Grand Canyon in 1978.  During the day, he was all business.  I don’t know what he was during the night, because I’m not his wife or secret lover.  But I presumed him to be a more or less straight-laced guy.  How wrong I was.

Six months into working for Rawftemp, I received an e-mail from the office manager, Beyblade Digimonderburg.  Apparently, every year, the company holds a retreat out in Boise, Idaho.  And supposedly, it turns out to be a pretty wild party.  I think to myself, “But surely it couldn’t be nearly as wild as the parties from Absalom University, where I would drink 16 shots, pass out in the bathroom, wake up three hours later, walk into my bedroom, pass out on the floor, and wake up spooning my backpack?”  How wrong I was.

The retreat lasted three days.  The first two and a half days were meetings and bizarre motivational speeches.  At one point, Macawber starts talking about “The Four,” a series of four steps that will lead to the perfect product.  Each step, however, had about four or five sub-steps in it. After two days of talking about it, nobody could remember anything about it, except that it was complicated, incomprehensible, and stupid.  Fortunately, Macawber wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and didn’t seem to notice.  I figured that everyone was exaggerating about the party.  How wrong I was.

The final night, the entire company (50+ people) was treated to an open bar.  Before I knew it, I was downing shots left and right.  “A toast to this!” and “a toast to that!” and a variety of other toasts and suddenly, I’ve had eight shots in one hour.  Then, one of the senior employees, a man by the name of Rahm Arizona, comes up to me and begins telling me some strange things. He says something about how living in Idaho makes my dick get harder, and makes me want to suck his dick, or something to that effect.  I figured it to be an isolated incident.  How wrong I was.

Things get weirder.  Sergeant Bilbo Baggins, another factory worker, French kisses the CFO.  Vanderbilt Magoogah, a skeezy hipster type, goes off to have sex with one of the interns.  Wheaties Bag, head of PR, dons a sweatshirt and begins jogging around the outside of the bar.  And then there’s Macawber, drunk as shit, waddling up to me.  He says, “I know you want to fuck the interns from our Wasilla, Alaska office!  Tell me you don’t want to fuck those interns!”  I politely said “Sure,” and ran away as fast as I could. I thought that was the end. How wrong I was.

Then some townies crashed the party.  “Fuck you guys!” they said.  “Rawftemp sucks!”  Let me tell you something: that pissed the hell out of Tarquin Tarquin Fatame, head of IT.  He pulled out a KNIFE and charged the townies.  It took three people to hold him back.  The townies, obviously, ran away.

I guess the point of the story is that there’s never an age where you have to stop getting completely wasted and endangering your life.  It’s common knowledge to many, but at the time, that experience opened up my eyes like none other.  I’ll never forget my experiences at Rawftemp.

– David