Sarah and Josh's Reception: The Photo Booth

Sarah and Josh had their wedding reception this past Saturday. We all had a lot of fun and people we amazed to meet my wife.

Sarah and Josh decided to rent a photo booth for the evening so that guests could take photos of themselves and then put them into a scrapbook. To help advertise the booth, Sarah had our friend Meshell designed a poster:

As I am completely unobservant, it took me about an hour to figure out that the characters on the poster were actually caricatures.

Now, can you find me?

Yes, that's me. Passed out in the booth, probably forty-five minutes into the event.

Just for reference, here's Miss Sally and I:

I won't show you the Acton photos.

How to cut a sandwich

There are many ways to cut a sandwich. Here's several styles by different kinds of parents:

In Half

In Half Triangles

The Bitchy Kid Cut

Stock Broker's Kid

Bear Market Stock Broker's Kid

NRA Member

Lazy Parent

Really Lazy Parent

Emo Kid

My Kid's

Like Father, Like Son

Greg is in first grade and one of the activities for his first day of school was to draw his teacher:

Not bad. I often dreamed of my teacher with a snazzy skirt and no top on, but I never took the time to draw it.

That's my boy!

Editorial Fail

I'm pissed.

Some intern from Texas wrote an editorial in our local paper about how Ohio sucks and how great Texas is. I know Ohio sucks, but you can't come marching into my town and shit in my coffee. So I decided to write a letter to this jerk and let him know how I feel. I made the letter really nice!

Nice, right? Almost makes you feel warm inside.

That would be all well and good, except the secret to Ohio pride is that I inserted a secret message as to how I really feel about this guy. The problem is that the editorial staff decided to edit my letter, just slightly to make it fit their format, which ruined my message. Check out the first letter of each sentence. Here's a cheat:

It spells out: TOUCHEBAI

They changed my first letter D (from Dear into To) and they changed the last sentence from a G (I started it out "Good Luck").


That's the secret to Ohio pride, asshole. Don't come up here to go to my school and then dump on my state, douchebag. I mean, touchebai.

HolyJuan Eats: Dirty Franks

I ran into Freckled Jenn at work and mentioned how I wanted to test out Dirty Franks. She had some errands to run and was itchin' for some wiener, so we hopped in her Jeep and drove over to 3rd Ave in Downtown Columbus.

Here's Jenn!

Dirty Franks looks like what would have happened if Mel's Diner were run by Hipsters in the late 1980's. The place was pretty full when we sat down. We had our drinks within a minute and we perused the menu with glee. Dirty Franks specializes in unique hot dog toppings. You might think the combinations of toppings were drawn out of a hat in a Whole Foods store. Actually, they are quite tasty!

I ordered:
Chicago (with a beef brat for .75 extra) = Fresh tomatoes, diced onions, Vienna Sport Peppers, pickle relish, dill pickle, yellow mustard, & a dash of celery salt

True Love Always = Cream cheese & green olives

Fresh cut fries (which I doused with vinegar)

Freckled Jenn ordered:
True Love Always = Cream cheese & green olives

Ohioana = Spicy corn relish (sweet corn, pickle relish & jalapeƱo blend) and a dash of celery salt

Wow! It was fabulous. I ordered the True Love Always because I am a big fan of cream cheese and olive. It tasted great with a hot dog. I would have liked for my olives to have pimentos, but otherwise, good stuff! The Chicago was very good, but the toppings are thick sliced and even I had trouble fitting it all in my mouth (but I did).

The fries were great and even better with the malt vinegar. I was able to chug three glasses of diet Coke while I was there.


My meal with drink was around $10.

Jenn said their adult beverages are great. She suggests the 2 Tickets to Paradise = Lime Slush, Cherry Slush, pineapple, Malibu Rum & citrus rum. I saw no less than 143 Pabst Blue Ribbon advertisements in the place. They also have funnel cakes.

I highly suggest you check them out!

Does this mean the internet will be down?

Top Ten Worst Diets Ever

They say dieting is good, but not if you are on one of the following diets. I'm no doctor, but I can tell you that this list is most definitely the top ten worst diets ever.

The Cardboard and Butter Diet

This is an extremely high fiber, high saturated fat diet. The butter helps the cardboard to go down. Helpful hint: buy an extra plunger.

Tapeworm Diet
With this diet, you ingest one pill which contains a tapeworm. Over time, you lose weight. And energy. When you are at the desired weight, take a second pill which, hopefully, kills the tapeworm.

Deserted Island Diet
With this diet, you only eat foods you would find on a deserted diet: sand, shell fish, seaweed and driftwood. It works for the people on Survivor... why not you?

Salt Diet
Eat anything and everything you want, as long as it is salt. Try Salt Pancakes or Salt Soup or Crunchy Sea Salt Nuggets with Salt Sauce. In a few days, if you can still see the scale, you'll notice significant weight loss.

U-Z Diet

In this diet, you only eat foods that begin with the letters U and Z. Watch the weight disappear after eating Ziti glazed with Ugli Fruit and unleavened bread with sliced zucchini every day for a week.

Sprinting Diet
With this diet, you can only eat while doing wind sprints. As soon as you stop running, you must stop eating. NOTE: Thanksgiving stinks on this diet and gravy can cause 2nd degree burns.

Boxing Glove Diet

This diet is easy: you can eat anything you want as long as you are wearing boxing gloves. Just try and open the fridge or drive to the fast food restaurant. Corn on the cob is really tough. Pudding is not so bad if you have a big vat of it.

Burnt Diet

This is another of the "eat anything you want" diets. All you have to do is burn the food item until it is charred black, though and through. I do this already with most my cooking.

Backyard Diet

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but they also make for a great diet. Eat only what you find in your yard. Gardens do not count, but weeds do. If you live in an apartment, go out to eat at the park. No digging through the trash cans.

Overeat Diet

This diet is akin to catching your child smoking a cigar and locking them in a closet until they smoke a whole box. With the Overeat Diet, you attempt to stuff yourself with fatty and high calorie foods to make yourself sick of eating. Do this for eight or nine weeks straight and weight loss will be inevitable when you can't move to feed yourself.

We miss Meshell

Meshell was in town a few weeks ago. We miss her a bunch, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do.
A great photo of Meshell and Doug

Check her out at:

WOW! really likes its customers (even the ones that are jerks)

On Monday, I wrote an article called “I played chicken with WOW! and something amazing happened” detailing how I tried to trick WOW! to lower my cable bill by threatening to cancel. Low and behold, my game of chicken failed and I ended up going through with the whole phone conversation and canceling my service. As I was too much of a chicken to go crawling back, I signed up for AT&T cable/internet and thought that was that.

The next day I got an e-mail via my address from someone at WOW!, a guy named William Wright, who had read my article and wanted to see if there was anything WOW! could do to retain me as a customer. There was an 800 number for me to call. I assumed that this was a run of the mill follow up to any post on the internet and didn’t pay it much attention. I was more curious to talk to him about how they harvest information from the internet and learned about my post in the first place. I replied to his e-mail and said I would forward the AT&T information and see if they could match it.

Later that night, my wife checked the voice mail and handed me the phone, saying it was WOW! trying to get us back. We had predicted that a sales person would call and I rewound the message. It was a guy named Bill Wright looking to get us back with WOW!. Bill Wright? That seemed familiar… I went back to my e-mail. Same guy. Except this time I looked closer and saw that he was the CEO Customer Advocate! I called the 800 number, expecting to get the switchboard, but it was his personal number. He had taken the effort to track down my real name and number. I left a message, explaining that I was just one of those jerks from the internet. I left my cell phone number and hung up.

The next day William sent me an e-mail saying that Larry from the Saves Department would be giving me a call. Larry called when I was in a meeting and I called him back once I was finished. I shared my story with Larry about the canceling and the post on the internet. We talked about WOW!’s competitors and what AT&T was offering. In the end he made me a very nice offer and I took him up on it. We said our goodbyes and I e-mailed William to say Larry was awesome and thanks for the special attention.

So what have I learned? I was completely surprised by the customer service I got from WOW! I’ve always liked my service from WOW!, but was amazed at the level of attention I received. I was astonished that they took the time to track down the real me (it’s not that hard, but still). And I felt like a douche for trying to get my bill lowered, not having the balls to fess up to my real intentions and then having a bunch of attention dumped on me when I was trying to be sneaky in the first place.

I’m not really sure I learned my lesson, because in the end, for all my douchery, I did get my bill lowered. But at least, for once, I was shown that there is a company that really, really wants to keep their customers happy.

And I am happy.

Why, Thank You and Why Thank You

I hate people. Not you, of course. I like you. Just everyone else.

On the local talk radio, the topic of the day was rude people. A fired-up caller (oddly not a “long time listener/first time caller” which I thought everybody had to say on talk radio) had two stories to share. One was a general observation that people don’t say thank you anymore when you open the door for them. The second was a long winded story about how he found a wallet at a hotel, took it to the front desk, got the wallet owner’s room number, went to the room to return it and the man grabbed the wallet and shut the door without saying anything.

This is why I hate people. People should never do anything nice in life expecting to be rewarded for it. I think hard work should be rewarded. I think innovation should be rewarded. But don’t expect to get your ego massaged just because you think you are doing something nice.

Do the right thing because it is the right thing.

The caller on the radio was obviously a turd. Opening doors and expecting thanks is one thing. Going out of your way to try and weasel thanks/ a reward is ever turdier. I’m not sure why the hotel would have given the caller the wallet owner’s room number. That has got to be against some policy. What I didn’t mention was that the caller had gone through the wallet (I would have too), and was bitching because there was a lot of money in it and he wasn’t offered a reward.

You know this caller is a douche. A good person (you or me) would have dropped the wallet off at the front desk and went on their way. This guy was fishing for a thanks or a couple bucks as a reward. He should have cut out the middle man and taken the money, which I’m sure is what actually happened and the guy made the rest of the story up. No hotel would give out a room number to a total stranger.

I see these types at the four-way stop. The ones that smile and try to wave you through, when they should have gone first. I just sit there and stare right at them. They wave, franticly trying to be nicer. And I stare. Then they throw up their arms in disgust and tear through the intersection, pissed off. I love it.

Now, before you start sounding off the hypocrite alarm, I have in the past stressed that people MUST say thanks and send thank you notes. This is still true. If someone opens the door for you, say “Thanks!” If someone finds your wallet, explain that that is all the money you have in the world and that you cannot give a reward, but if there is anything you can do, you will. It is customary and polite.

But don’t ever give into these “Thank You” whores who force you into a Thank You situation. The nice guy that opens the door when you are 50 feet away. The nice guy at the four way stop. The nice guy that explains to everyone that he is doing something nice. Just use this secret code as you pass by them, “Why thank you”. No comma. You can add the question mark in your inflection when you get really good at it.

I played chicken with WOW! and something amazing happened

Miss Sally and I decided to get rid of our WOW! Internet Provider land line. The phone had not been working for about a week and neither of us noticed. When I figured out what was wrong and plugged it in correctly, we only had one message from seven days previous. The only thing I use it for is to call my cell phone when I’ve lost it.

Since we were giving up the land line, we started checking prices with other companies. AT&T and RoadRunner have been flooding our mailbox with offers. What we decided was that I would play hardball with WOW! and get our monthly fee lowered. Everyone knows that the service providers bend over to keep you on board, so I thought it would be a simple game of chicken where I would say, “I want out” and they would say, “Are you sure” and I would say, “Yes” and they would weep and the supervisor would come one the phone and BEG for me to get cable, internet and phone for $99/month. Suckers!

I called WOW! and spoke with a very polite dude. We exchanged my account information. Then I told him I wanted to cancel my service. He said, are you canceling or switching? I said we were switching to AT&T. Polite Dude was very concerned because he did not want us to lose our phone number. He entered in his system that AT&T would be our next service provider and they would handle handing it off. I passed the first test. He was checking to see if I was serious and I was.

Next Polite Dude went to the next part of his script and asked me when I would like to cancel. Right now? Tomorrow? I did not hesitate! I thought this was the point where he would start begging and he threw me a curve ball. I lied and said that our new service was starting at the end of the month so I would want to cancel then. Polite Dude suggested a few dates and times for our equipment to be collected and I picked one.

I had passed the second test! Now was about the time when Polite Dude would get to the part of the script where he talks me into staying with WOW!. Questions about pricing and service. How WOW! could do one better. How I was a Valued Customer.

Instead he thanks me for the call and that the service dude would be at my house to pick up the modem and cable box and that I should call back if there were any issues. WOW! would transfer the number to AT&T when the time came.

I said thanks and good-bye and paused. I waited for the, "Just one second, valued customer!", but Polite Dude said bye and hung up.

There was no groveling. No bending over. No supervisor. Amazing.

So, I went to the AT&T U-verse website and signed up for Cable and Internet in about ten minutes.

U-Verse is about $50 a month cheaper without the phone with a $250 cash back bonus and 2nd receiver. Now I need to go around and change all my WOW! contact e-mails to my Gmail account. A pain in the ass, but worth the savings.

So in the end, we both won and we both lost. But neither of us flinched, and that’s what really matters. Nice job WOW!. I’m ticked you didn’t roll over, but I commend you for that!


{Author's note: You must check out the follow up story:}

What No One Tells You About Moving

Moving is highly underrated. Both in time and treasure. I’ve helped several friends to move and here’s what I’ve noticed that you should consider before moving.

0.5 The PLAN
(It’s best to have the PLAN in the #0.5 spot so that you can sneak up on the #1 item.)
Create a PLAN for the move. Write it down. Stick to it. Even if you are wrong, because once people begin to doubt you, they’ll start to argue and that is a time suck. Be willing to take advice, but don’t let anyone tell you what to do. This is why you do not invite your dad to the move.

1. Packing takes 20% longer than expected
OK, you’ve heard this before, but no matter how you plan, packing will take 20% longer. Even after you read this, you might think, “I’ll just increase the time by 20%.” Wrong. Because it will take 20% longer than that. It’s a losing proposition. It is in your best interest to schedule five hours to pack so that it will only take six. (And don’t think you can plan on five minutes of moving so that it will take six. Fate is not stupid.)

2. Pack Everything
Put as much as you can in boxes. It makes packing the truck so much easier. Leave stuff in drawers if you want, but make sure you cover with cardboard and tape. Take this opportunity to throw out all your lamps. They are hard to pack and just not worth your time. DO NOT PACK THINGS IN SUITCASES. It is a well know fact that suitcases are the number one item that get lost both at the airport and in a move.

3. Don’t Pack Everything
Screw that last bit. Take the time to get rid of stuff. Have your friends take stuff. Call the local charity that will haul it away. Put it on the curb so the local junk-truck-guy can come by and take the good stuff. Especially those lamps.

4. Color Code
In the end, you will be much happier will all your crap in well marked, color coded boxes You can write the details of the box in small letters, but use large words or color to help guide the unpackers to the room they need to go. The night before the move, go to the new house and make signs with arrows. Color code rooms and doors. This will alleviate you standing at the front door of the new house, blocking the door deciding what the hell you were thinking last night when you wrote KT BT 9 FR on the box.

5. Rent the bigger truck
Rent the biggest truck you can get your hands on. Find a friend with a Commercial Driver’s License if you have to. Two trips SUCKS. Spend the extra money because you will save it in the end with mileage and time.

6. You can have too many people to help
It’s easy to understand that if you are the only one moving your furniture, you are screwed. But is it possible to have too many people? YES. One of my favorite economics terms is “diminishing returns.” It basically means that the more people you throw at a job, at some point, the amount of work that can get done is reduced. When you have too many people standing around, they will have the time to stop and criticize your PLAN. If you invite too many people to help, divide them up into smaller teams for continued packing, labeling, cleaning, lifting or send some over to the new place to get rid of them. Have them buy the beer and put it into the new refrigerator. Part of your PLAN should be a list of things for the ne'er-do-wells to do while the real help is doing their job.

7. Inside help / outside help
Your job during the move is to coordinate. Try not to get stuck moving anything. You should be able to freely move in and out of the house. If you have the personpower, have someone in the house, who is familiar with the PLAN, that can guide the movers or get you in a hurry if there is a question. You can then be near the truck to help with loading, unless you suck at Tetris.

8. Tight Pack
If you are crappy at Tetris, I would suggest getting a friend who has move experience to pack the truck. You want a tight pack as this means less damage and more stuff on the truck. Have room outside the truck for staging items that should go on later or when you have a futon shaped hole to fill.


Damnit! I’ve seen it a hundred times. Towards the end of the move, little stuff is still lying around the house and the owner will say, “I’ll get that stuff later.” Don’t do it. MOVE IT NOW. You’ve got the people and the truck. For fragile stuff also have a fleet of cars that will be going to the new house. Just do it now. If you are moving across the country, you might want to keep personal items or papers with you, just don’t overthink it, champ. Move it now.

10. Don’t Feed in the Middle of a Move
Hungry people work harder. Full people nap. Don’t schedule your move around a meal time. Wait until the move is over to order the pizza. Even if it is late. By then, people will be sick of you and they will leave so you can order less pizza. Only keep cold water at the house you are moving out of. Make sure that beer is only at the new place so they have a goal. Drunk people drop shit and argue with you.

11. Don’t get fancy

Provide water. Provide Pizza. Provide Beer. Don’t try and cater. Don’t even think about cooking out. Your friends knew this when they volunteered to help. They will move someday and you will get the same crap from them.

12. Unpack Now
If you do not unpack a box, it will remain packed until you move again. This falls in line with Move Everything Now. People are there. Unpack.

13. Thanks

You need to thank your friends for helping. If someone loaned you a truck, fill it with gas or leave a $20 in the glove compartment. A real friend will not take money if you hand it to them, so if you really need the $20, try to hand it to your friend instead of putting it in the glove compartment. Thank your friends that night and the next day for their help and apologize for being a dick and not listening to them and not having beer at the house and for making them work so late.

14. Take the next day off work
You will definitely want to take then next day off from work. All the stuff that you are too tired to take care of at midnight will be there for years unless you take care of it immediately. If you go to work, you are going to come home, exhausted, to unpacked boxes and no cable. If you take the next day off, you can sit around and unpack boxes while you wait for the cable guy to show up three hours late.

I had a vasectomy today

I had a vasectomy today. Here are the basics of how my day went:

Woke up screaming.

While getting the kids ready for school, I read the “Pre-Surgery” instructions. I learned that I was supposed to be scrubbing my loins for the past five days. I’m sure my cursory “soap across the balls” does not meet their definition of scrubbing.

Kissed Miss Sally goodbye and confirmed that she would be picking me up at noon thirty.

Got in the shower and gave myself a good 2 ½ days worth of scrubbing action. By 1867 standards, I would be blind now.

I shaved my balls.

I got out of the… hold on, what? You SHAVED YOUR BALLS?

That’s right. The instructions said to shave them and they got shaved. I pulled out my grooming kit. Knocked the shrubbery down as short as the guard on the electric trimmer would let me and then I jumped in the shower. Balls are not a good medium to be dragging a sharp blade across. And the reason I know this is because I spent a full 30 minutes bent over and staring at my ugly, wrinkly, bigger than average, dropped melon shaped nutsack. Men, don’t ever examine your balls with your eyes. Check for cancer, but do so with your eyes closed. Women, kudos to you for even getting within three feet of that withered fruit, change purse.

Shaving balls is like trying to wrap a coat hanger around a whipped cream covered balloon. As soon as pressure is applied, skin around the man grapes distorts and deflects away from the blade. I found it best to stretch the loose skin in a tennis racquet stringer to create the proper tension on the surface. Let's just say I pulled things taut and did the best I could. Thirty minutes later, I was done.

I got out of the shower, got dressed and went to Target to buy tidytighty-whities like the instructions suggested. I also bought two bags of frozen peas. And Swedish Fish (Comfort food, not for a dissolving stitches replacement). Back at home, I put on tidy-whities for the first time in 25 years. At least now tidytighty-whities come in different colors.

Sally picked me up and we drove to the MD office.

Checked in and only waited 2 minutes before being called back.

The MD assistant was very, very cute. We went to room #7.

She told me to remove my clothes below the waist and hang them up. It was then that I realized that she would be seeing my shaved balls and cold, shriveled penis. Usually, I bone up very easily and would be concerned/embarrassed about that, but I was nervous and cold and more concerned that the cute chick would have trouble deciding which was balls and which was penis.

I got undressed and sat on the table. She came back in and gave me a sheet to cover my shame. I laid back and she got everything in the room ready for the surgery. From this point on, I did not look down and instead counted the holes in the ceiling tiles.

Doc came in and we had some chit chat about the music on the radio and that he was going to feel me up like he did at the previous examination.

He then gave me a good scrubbing with some soapy something. I haven’t had that kind of action from a guy in months.

Surgical pads were placed around my loins so that only my balls were showing. The pads had adhesive on them, but I didn’t find that out until the end.

There was a shot, some numbing, a little pressure, a little more pressure some chit chat. Then another shot, more pressure, a lot of talk about my work and then it was done. Stitch, stitch. That quick. About fifteen minutes from the first numbing shot to doc walking out of the room.

Cute girl cleaned up and took the surgical pads off and hoo-boy they have a little stick to them. One of them goes right across the penis and though it didn’t hurt, it was like a leash giving me a tug. And not the kind of tug you get at the Asian Spa at the airport.

Cute assistant left so I could get dressed. (I don’t get this… she just was in close proximity to my junk for 30 minutes and she leaves so I can put my clothes on?)

She came back in and read me the TO DO and NOT TO DO, told me that swelling was normal, slapped me on the ass and shoved me out the door.

Since I got home, I’ve been rotating frozen peas on and off my groin every 20 minutes. I’ve taken Advil, though we picked up a prescription pain reliever just in case.

I’ve played Wii. I watched Caddy Shack. I messed around on the computer. The kids came home from pre-school and Greg was as interested as a six year old could be about testicles and what the hell happened to me. He used at least five pronunciations for testicles and he slipped a “balls” in there once or twice with me correcting him to use the proper word.

I’m not sure where he learned to say balls.


I was in Lancaster this weekend to catch up with some friends. We went to a bar that a high school friend owns. While we were hanging out at the bar, a group of kids came in. I assumed that they were of age, because I can't tell anymore.

One of the dudes was a complete douchbag. How do I know this? For one, he looked like a douchebag... askew hat, stupid necklace, ironic shirt, fucking rich kid. Secondly, he acted like a douchbag... mistreating the bartender, running into people, aloof to the point of nausea.

Sadly, I wanted to punch the guy in the mouth.

Well, I must not have been the only one, because about twenty minutes later, there was a ruckus in the back of the bar and an employee yelled, "Call the cops!"

Word worked its way to the front of the bar that someone had got punched in the mouth. I said, "It was probably the douchebag." And it was. His friends started walking him out of the bar, but he went back to the back.

Cops showed up and went to the back of the bar. We assume they interviewed some people and low and behold, they came walking to the front of the bar with the douchebag. They weren't forcing him to move, but were telling him to get a move on outside. He was stalling and saying that he didn't want to leave. The cops had enough and dragged his ass out. The cuffed him and placed him in the cop car.

Cop came back in to show the bartender his fake ID. She said the front was a very good forgery, but that the bartender should look at the back of the license for some other telltale marks.

In the end, I felt bad for the kid... just kidding. We laughed our asses off.

Jackson Pollock Venn Diagram

My First Beer Bong

Have you ever bonged a beer? The beer bong is a wonderful invention. If you dislike the taste of beer and also don’t like to waste your time chit chatting at parties waiting for the buzz to kick in, then fear no more. There was a time in my life where I was unfamiliar with that MacGyveresqe contraption which employs a funnel, three feet (or sometimes thirty) of tubing and a hose clamp. It’s actually possible to buy a manufactured beer bong off the shelf in towns that you only go to once for Spring Break. Just avoid the pink ones. The best beer bongs are acquired via spare parts by sifting though the garage and under the kitchen sink.

So before we knew of beer bongs, Russ and I went on a road trip with the Widener twins to Bowling Green State University. We met up with our buddy Brett and went to a party at an apartment. While we were all enjoying a few Keystone Light pounders, the host pulled out what I soon found out was a beer bong. He proceeded to fill the funnel end with beer while another partygoer deftly held the tube pinched closed at the other end. The host held the funnel up, the tube went in the second guy’s mouth and chug chug chug… it was gone! Beer one second, no beer in three seconds. Amazing! How does that work? I can imagine Julius Sumner Miller explaining the physics behind the bong:

“I point out that we have a funnel. In addition, there is a plastic tubing of length being one metre. Are you not agreed that these two are connected? Yes. Now supposing we take this 12 ounce cylindrical container of beer. Where is the beer? Where? Yes, here it is. And pour this beer in the funnel. Oh shit, it poured out on the floor of the lab. Goddamn it Mr. Anderson! You were ‘sposed to bend the fucking length of tubing! Fuck!”
(I think we were all waiting for Julius Sumner Miller to snap. I loved the guy.)

A few other people used the bong and I was given the opportunity to try it. Pinch, fill, mouth, release… chug, squirt, choke, beer in nose, gag, chug… It was a lot harder than it looked. This was going to take some practice.

In the background, a soft voice seemed to rise up. “I’d like to try that please,” asked Russ (I think he was raising his hand.) “Sure!”

Pinch, fill, mouth, release… s’gunk. It was gone. I mean, he fucking just downed the thing in a quarter second on his first try. The host was impressed. The crowd roared! Russ was a GOD! He shrugged his shoulders and explained, “I just opened my throat and it went down.” Russ found his purpose in life.

We drank a lot. Russ continued to impress the locals with his bonging prowess. I continued to get beer all over me.

The next day we drove back to Lancaster. We were giddy with excitement about sharing our newly found technology that would make slow beer drinking obsolete. We both had to work that night at the Baskin Robbins. An hour before work, we went into an auto parts store and gathered all the necessary components. We would be the first people in Lancaster to own a bong and share our..“You all gonna make a beer bong?” asked the guy behind the register.
“You know what a beer bong is?”
“Hell, I thought everyone knew what a beer bong was. That’ll be $5.78.”

OK, so we were pretty stupid. Turns out the beer bong had been around a while and we just weren’t invited to the right parties. Still, we had a bong and we were going to practice.

At work, we built the beer bong. We wanted to practice so. we tried bonging water, but it was too plain. We tried bonging coke, but the carbonation almost took Russ out. We then got the bright idea to bong iced coffee. It had some flavor and no one was going to explode from carbonation buildup.

Two pots of coffee later…

Russ and I were vibrating around the store. I could almost scoop the ice cream through sheer willpower. Russ levitated about three feet off the ground in the corner. We’d pee in shifts and speak to each other only through our thoughts.

As we were closing for the night, our buddy Greg arrived. It seemed that a bunch of punk ass kids ganged up on him in the local Kroger’s parking lot. He was able to drive off and was looking for some reinforcements. We were primed to kick some ass. We all jumped into Greg’s car and went back to the Kroger’s, flexing and shouting the whole way.

Sadly for this story, nothing happened. The kids were gone. We ran around in circles for a few minutes and then got breakfast at the Family Restaurant. I remember coming down pretty hard. Not being able to sleep. Night sweats. 24 trips to the bathroom.

The last time I saw that bong was years later at a friend’s apartment. It had tape patching it up and smeared black marker on the funnel. It had a funk that couldn’t be washed out. I think one of the Widener’s cursed it when, while bonging a beer, someone poured a wine cooler in with the beer. I think he puked right back in and up through the bong.