Sunday Bloody Funday

I've been a little lax with the posts over the last week, but hey even when your job description is "Professional Rant Writer" you need a vacation once in a while. So I left town. Went to the beach. Did some man tanning and jet-skiing. Ate buckets of seafood with my bare hands. All in all a succesful Labor Day weekend spent with other friends living the dream, celebrating the merits of those who are actually employed. One thing that occurred to me was that this was the first time in forever that I was able to engage in one of my favorite pastimes, namely: getting drunk on a Sunday. Getting drunk on a Sunday was a regular weekly activity back when I lived on the East coast, but now my Sunday Fundays are few and far between. I'm hoping football season changes that because while I am getting old, I am still not too old to appreciate getting hammered on the day of rest.

Getting drunk on Sunday fucking rules. It is by far my favorite day of the week to get intoxicated on, and I feel that everyone should be on the same page with me on this. People however, seem to disagree with me when it comes to Sunday hammer time. They all have the same excuse. "Well we can't drink on Sunday because we have work the next day." OR "I have class in the morning." Yeah fuck that. These are bullshit excuses. Yeah you have to do something TOMORROW. Big fucking deal. So since you have responsibilities to attend to 24 hours from now you are just gonna cut your weekend in half. Let me see your reasoning: "Well since I have to go to work on Monday morning I guess I will just spend Sunday sitting around my house watching the final round of the PGA Western Ohio invitational with a mineral water and my thumb up my ass." Yeah totally makes sense. Loser.

You see Monday responsibilities are what make Sunday drinking so grand. On Saturday night you go out with your buddies and drink till last call, and then continue partying at one of your bros houses till the wee hours so long as there is still a 24 hour delivery joint available. You do this because you have no responsibility the next morning so you can afford to be tired and hungover. You can't do this on Sunday night though because you will have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn the next day to stumble to class or your dead end entry level position. This is by no means however, an obstacle to drinking on Sunday. You just have to start drinking EARLY. (Don't give me that "I'm too hungover Sunday morning B.S. either, because more booze is the only cure to a hangover). Start drinking at breakfast, blackout by the afternoon and then pass out early in the evening halfway through the Sunday night football game. Boom. Great day of fun, followed by a good long nights sleep, and you are up, fresh, and ready to face whatever bullshit comes your way Monday morning. Drinking at 10 am on a Tuesday might lead one to label you something nasty like say.."an alcoholic." Drink at 10 am on a Sunday however, and you my friend are now just being "a responsible adult."

People generally are not necessarily opposed to "drinking" on Sunday. They just happen to be opposed to actually partying on a Sunday, or as I like to call it "Getting Awesome." If you throw out the idea of Sunday drinking to people they respond with their favorite brunch spot that has $3 bloody marys. Or they will make plans to purchase one bottle of Andre this Sunday, so we can all sip on mimosas with our pancakes. Yeah fuck that. When I'm talking fucking Sunday Funday I don't mean lets grab a bloody mary with our eggs. That is amateur hour. Go hard or go home.

Pictured above is Murphy's Irish Pub or as I like to think of it "The Greatest Establishment on Earth." Back when I lived by this finest of watering holes, going to Murphy's drunk brunch on Sundays became a weekly tradition. That's because Murphy's drunk brunch was not in the business of fucking around. It starts at 10. It ends at 3. You get badass fat kid meat and potatos breakfast meals for under $10. You can smoke cigarettes at your table. You get full glass champagne refills for a quarter. (Unless of course you are a regular in which case the champagne is on the house assuming you tip well and compliment your waitress on how un-pregnant she looks). Before you know it you are pounding Irish car bombs at noon with the bartender. There is nothing about Murphy's that was not to love.

Clearly unlimited refills of bubbly leads you to be super hammered by no later than 1pm. Which is PERFECT. During football season you stumble out of Murphy's and over to the local sports bar with your 12 champagne glass buzz just in time to scream obscenities at 4 different tvs. During the summer you can then have a nice buzz in place before heading out to go tubing or hit up a bbq. Getting drunk in the morning leads to great flexibility in the planning of your Sunday Funday itinerary as six wasted people are never gonna come up with only ONE awesome suggestion for where to relocate their drunk asses.

Another awesome thing about drinking on Sunday morning is you gain the ability to forget that there are people less awesome than you in the world that are not trashed at lunchtime. These people will judge you. Or say you're too loud. Or tell you there are children around. Yeah whatever. Sorry for partying. This is Sunday Funday what do you care what these assholes think? There is something special about being a trainwreck around people who deem your awesome behavior to go against what they consider "the norm." If your drunk ass gets cut off at a strip club on a Saturday night, you are just par for the course, but get thrown out of a bar on Mother's day for ruining family brunch and you have chalked up a whole nother level of life victory.

Anyways the NFL season kicks off in a couple of days and "There's football on tv" is life's most valid excuse for day drinking. So hopefully this will lead to the return of Sunday Funday to my life. Because I miss Murphy's...and I miss being judged by that sweet church family that doesn't approve of my loud obscene toasts at 11am. You're gonna have that "case of the Mondays" so you might as well not waste your opportunity to time travel to that miserable morning via an awesome Sunday Funday.

Your Dad is ashamed of you.

Once upon a time, men drank like men. If you went to the liquor store, you were there to pick up Whiskey, Gin, Vodka, or Rum. Those were the only four isles in the store. Being a bartender was the easiest job in the world. He'd ask you what you want, and you responded with either "a beer" or one of the four aformentioned options. If you wanted a mixed drink he'd gladly oblige you by throwing some ice in your glass.

Nowadays of course we live in a society of pansies. Men have stopped drinking like men. Bartenders have to have a P.H.D. in chemistry to make a fucking drink. A "drink" in today's world means throwing together 6 non-alcoholic ingredients in a glass and then splashing a drop of booze in the concoction. Today when you order a scotch on the rocks at a bar people don't assume you're cool, they assume you just lost custody of your kids in divorce proceedings.

Liquor companies of course had to react to this mass pussification of their target market. They realized at some point that just marketing their product on its own would not get people to buy it. so they started making "beverages." Exhibit A above is Captain Morgan's new "Lime bite" drink. What the shit is this? I read a review of this drink that said it "smells like fruity pebbles." So already this drink is SissyTown USA. The commercials however, don't encourage you to drink it on it's own, but rather to "splash" this nancy boy concoction into your soda or fruit juice. The last time I had "splashes" of liquor thrown in my soda, my uncle was sneaking me booze at the bar in middle school.

Captain Mo is not the only culprit in the liquor industry. There's Jack Daniels "hard cola," 500 fruity versions of Absolut Vodka and Bacardi Rum, and Smirnoff Ice. The last one of course is responsible for the horrible "bros icing bros" trend that epitomizes the pussification of my gender. Explain to somebody from the old school (say..your dad) why forcing another dude to drink a pansy alcoholic beverage is cool. He will not get it. I won't elaborate on "icing" any further but lets just say that if you went up to Sean Connery at a bar and "iced" him, he'd briefly look confused, before punching you in the face and telling you how much he enjoyed having your mother last night.

Also the whole concept of shots has vastly changed from the old school. A "shot" used to mean literally "a shot glass amount of straight liquor." It's purpose was to get you drunk because you are quickly consuming a straight shot of liquor. "Four Tequilla shots please." Bartender pours tequilla into four shot glasses. You consume shots. Two minute process. Repeat 8 times to ensure waking up in bed with a fat chick. End of story.

Now of course hearing the words "Lets get a round of shots" from the bro in front of me means I'm gonna have to wait 10 minutes for my next drink. Half the time, a douchebag will order a shot the bartender has never heard of and then have to spend 5 min explaining how to make it."Uh you know....it's like schnapps mixed with goldshlager, with a splash of apple pucker, and then you pour it over ice and shake it up 4 times.." Jesus fucking Christ. He's a bartender not MacGyver you asshole. They should have "express checkout lines" at bars just like they do at grocery stores. "Oh you want a Jameson on the rocks? Step this way sir." The guy that wants 17 "Carrot Cake shots?" get at the back of the other line.

I see no end in sight for this disturbing trend. So I guess I will just have to suck it up and wait it out at the bar while kids order shots of Bacardi Citron/Peach liqeur concoctions. Or start ordering doubles more often. Just know that if you're one of those jackoffs in front of me spending 15 min to order a fucking lame pansy drink that I don't approve. And your pops doesn't either.