As surely all of you know, both because I've written about it and your parents--if they went to public school--almost certainly don't have a job, the American economy hasn't always been at its best lately. In fact the economic downturn in this country has been so severe that it's even effected once untouchable corporations such as Arby's, Amtrack, Pet's Mart, and Dunder Mifflin-Scranton (which has been just terrible lately). The damage has been so devastating that only two industries have been able to emerge unscathed from the financial rubble...Porn and Booze.
Now I want elaborate on the porn aspect, because my mother raised me never to talk, write blogs or Tweet about naked ladies (or the things weird people do to themselves while looking at them), which is a rule I have stead fastly followed for the entirety of my life. No, I am here to talk about the other economic staple of our great nation, whether the economy is booming like the roaring 1930's (hey wait a second...) or in the dumps like the great recession of the late-1990's. I'm here to talk about booze.
And more importantly the establishments that rake in incredible profits selling us booze. Look we all know that we can roll up to the local corner store, buy 6 40's OE for like 14 cents, go do heroin with some AIDS infested homeless dudes in the alley, bang an AIDS infested homeless prostitute (for like -4 cents) in the dumpster, and have the times of our lives. That's a given.
So what is it about bars that makes us want to pay $5 for a drink instead of 2.3 cents? What is it that makes us want to use clean needles doing heroin in a bar's swanky bathroom, instead of sharing and caring about our homeless brothers in the alley? What is it that makes us want to hit on, and get denied by, clean chicks who think that women can accomplish something instead of getting our AIDS on with a hood-rat hoe while making 4 cents in the process?
What is it about bars that makes them so god damn magical? I already know...which is why I am the one writing this blog post in the first place. That's the only way it would make sense. I'm pretty sure.
Fast Eddie is a God Damn Speed Demon
This past Saturday I visited Fast Eddie's Bon Air in gorgeous Alton, Illinois (aka the most prosperous metropolis in the state), and while I was there I noticed something...that this bar was the greatest place in the whole, wide world. Now let me tell you what Fast Eddie's has that makes it better than every other bar despite the fact that much of what I'm gonna tell you that Fast Eddie's got are the same things that almost every other bar has. Whatever.
Drunk 50-Year-Old Sluts: Look, nothing gets the blood flowing like a pack of way too tan and way too drunk cougars who are on the prowl for an overweight 24-year-old with no source of income, an below-averaged size penis and mild acne. So you all may be asking--what makes cougars so great? Well, 1-They can't get pregnant, cause of science and everything (yeah...fuck you science), 2-They realize that they are a 50-year-old who is smashed in the middle of the afternoon so they do not even pretend to have a sense of dignity or self-worth, 3-They have more money than me, and 4-They can also afford roofies...and they aren't afraid to use them.
Now, I don't remember interacting with any cougars on Saturday, but I know they were there...and that they were gently rubbing my cock and balls through my J-Crew chinos. I woke up with a couple of fake nails stuck in my fly so...it doesn't take the detectives from CSI: Des Moines to prove that last point.
29 Cent Shrimp: Look, everyone knows that fresh seafood is probably the greatest food in the entire world. It's better than peanut butter. It's better than raccoon meat. It's better than anything than Tyrone Biggums has even eaten. It's not better than fried chicken, mashed potatoes, cake, pudding, Jello, butter, Ramen noodles, turtle or dove. Wait...what?
And what better place to get fresh scrimp than in Alton, Illinois, which just happens to sit on the banks of the cleaniest stretch of freshwater north of Peru? A sewer maybe? But no one is selling fresh sewer scrimp for 29 cents a pop...I can promise you that.
Sports: It's common knowledge that bars are a great place to watch sports. That's why Buffalo Wild Wings corporate slogan is: Beer, Sports, and thousands of pounds of honored Native-American bison wings literally cut off of thousands of honored Native-American bison. Wait, you say that Buffalo wings don't actually come from a buffalo? I'm calling bullshit on that one.
And there may not be a better place to watch sports than Fast Eddies. There are TVs. There are hundreds of drunken fans. There are 6-year-old college basketball geniuses who fully understand the stylistic difference between "run and gun" and "bangin in the paint" (see youtube video below). In fact Fast Eddies was Rasheed Wallace's favorite place to scarf down Mississippi River shrimp when he was high as shit. It's also the place where Ryan Braun got herpes. I'm about 94% sure on that last part.
You Don't Have to Be Politically Correct: What you say you like to yell racist and offensive things at the top of your lungs for the all world to hear? Then Fast Eddies is your place. How do I know this? Well first my friend Ted called some chick a "c-word" and everyone laughed at her...which was deserved in my book. That chick was acting exactly like what she was called so...why should anyone be offended.
Then some small, Asian man sitting in a school desk and yelled that I was gayyyy at the top of his lungs (not that there's anything wrong with that). Once again everyone laughed. Once again no one was offended...cause everyone knew it was true. Wait, I mean...it wasn't true? Shit...I really need to quit drinking a case Busch Lights before I write this thing.
The Bathroom Here is Nuts: I think that's pretty self explanitory. It is where Ryan Braun got those herpes after all...
Patrick Swayze is the Bouncer: True story, and perhaps the greatest aspect of any bar in history. I personally saw Patrick Swayze do this to someone. Wait...Patrick Swayze killed a guy? He should probably lay low for a while.
Hold the phone...I thought Patrick Swayze was dead? Naw bro, anyone who has ever seen Ghost knows...that Patrick Swayze can never really die. Duh.
Yeah Patrick Swayze really is dead so...everything I just wrote is kind of f'ed up. RIP dude. You're my hero.
This post is garbage.
Text Updates and Big Ups
My current text messaging score since March 23 is +288 (242-inbox, 213-sent, 17 from females) so...I am still a P-I-M-P on my smart phone dogg. Also I am up to 249 Twitter followers so...hey-yo. Let's get it.
I also have a couple of big ups to extend in this edition of the blog. First to Chuck, Katie, Teddy, Ted, Will and a bunch of other people for going to Fast Eddie's with me...you are the kind of guys dreams are made of. Second to Ace...bless your heart for showing me this week's youtube vid. You are a gentleman and have a genourously sized weiner (hear that chias?). And finally to two of more most loyal fans, JJ and Danny Boy, your constant support keeps me afloat in these trying cultural times. I owe you $69 of compensation (with interest) which I plan to pay off by December 15, 2081.
Back next week with something probably just as mediocre and uninspired. Yay six-year-olds!
Sachary L. Poelker
"The Sack Artist: Jack of All Trades"