"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day."

Well, well! it certainly has been a busy week for the girls at TShirtSize: Awesome! KP and I have been pleasantly busy attending hockey games and intelligent people discussion groups (which thankfully only last one more week and no, it’s not anything court ordered), Beth finds herself in the middle metro-sexual non-sexy youth sandwich, and ol’ Kasey seems to have gotten her tongue tied in a knot with some special John, enough to keep it out of other people’s, for a change. Way to go, Kasey. Beth, you’re a loser.

Special thanks to all our friends from (and the new ones that we made, Daniel, you are one creepy dude) the Annual St. Patty’s Day Pub Stumble, which had record turnout (and record staying power, we all did it!!) and record fun. Record temperatures and adorable servers also played a large part (all I’m saying ladies is go to Graydon’s Crossing) and fun and merriment and poor grammar was had by all. Cheers! Erin Go Braugh! That means “Go To Ireland, you wannabe lush!” in Gaelic. Hey, fuck yooo, Rosetta Stoone! Here are a few other things I’ve learned:

• The term “honeymoon” actually dates back to Babylonian times, when it was customary for the parents of the bride to supply the groom with all the mead he could drink for an entire month after the wedding. Moon=month, honey=main ingredient in mead, get it?? Ha!

• The word “cocktail” comes from the implements used to stir drinks during the early days of the American bar, when they used pheasant feathers to decorate the walls, and would pick said feathers off the wall to mix drinks.

• The cocktail known today as the ‘Tom Collins’ comes from a practical joke barmen used to play on each other in the Wild West, back when pride actually mattered to people. If you were looking to mess with a dude just because, you’d walk up to him and tell him that you just heard Tom Collins up the street slandering his honest name, you know, calling him lazy or his mother a ninny or Yankee-lover (or whatever they said back then), and the dude would fly out the door in a blind rage and beat to pieces the first city slicker he didn’t recognize, no matter if his name was actually Tom Collins or not. Funny, huh!?! Boy, what a good joke! Bet you didn’t see that one coming, innocent bystander! Here is (according to the Playboy Bartender’s Guide) how to make a Tom Collins:
2 ½ oz gin
1-2 tsp. Sugar
1 oz lemon juice
Iced club soda
Garnish with lemon slice, lime slice, or maraschino cherry (optional)

Here’s how (according to the Playboy Bartender’s Guide) to make a City Slicker:
2oz brandy
½ oz triple sec
1tbsp. Lemon juice
eew.

Here is how to make a shoe smell:
Your stinky feet.
Damn, I’m good!!!

And speaking of cocktails, I really want to let you all in on the best known secret and future tradition of the girlies of TShirtSize: Awesome and all of their 5,000 friends…Scarey-oke live on Wednesday nights from the most haunted bar/brothel left in Grand Rapids! Nick Fink’s in Comstock Park! You all should come! For serious! Hosted by suckah commentator and for real awesome dude Bubba (of BubbaHasSpoken, but he is actually really nice. Unless you’ve had a tracheotomy recently…) this bar seriously gives me the major willies because for the past 150 years it’s been a whorehouse. And they haven’t done much with the place, if you know what I mean. (Here’s the premise. It’s got velvet wallpaper, jet black leather booths, uneven floors, high back wooden booths and smells like vomit.) And what do we do when something gives us the serious willies?? Sing to it! Really well! There’s a lot of hidden talent and hilarious drunk hillbillies running around that joint, and no matter who shows up, it’s guaranteed to be a real blast. At least super entertaining. Just don’t even look at the beer list, or attempt to proposition any of the wildlife, contrary to popular belief, it is NO LONGER A BROTHEL. Except for me and KP. Who tend to bring the brothel with us…

Super double-special thanks to local legend and dynamic celebrity superpower Sam Kenny (remember? From the other post?) for totally tearing that shit up with high kicks, Michael Jackson moves and enough spins to make me dizzy. And seriously, Ryan??? Where did you come from, dude??

Not only is the clientele usually an adventure, but you’ll sound like Mel frickin’ Torme on the mike. Get on out there.


Nick Fink's, Wednesday nights, Comstock Park. Awesome. Terrifying. Awesome. Here’s a video interpretation of the excellence that Scarey-oke is:



And just a little reminder, today and April 10th are your last chances to come sit behind me and KP at Friday night Griffins games and get angry at our horn-blowing and throw popcorn in our hair. Or get really laced on dollar beers and slam 4 hot dogs for no reason. Boosh! See you in the playoffs, babies!