The Hood River "Distillery"

I use the term "distillery" very loosely, because I highly suspect that this place is actually a rubbing alcohol plant that one day decided it could triple its profits by making a solution of 60% unfiltered city water and 40% unfiltered rubbing alcohol. Having consumed liters of this stuff as a high school student, I think my opinion is to be respected. If you live in Oregon or Washington and have ever drank underage, or are just an alcoholic on a budget, you are invariably familiar with the insulting flavor of HRD vodka. If you drink HRD you are one step above people who strangle themselves while they masturbate to get high, and one step below people who huff paint. Also interesting to note, the colors in the letters "HRD" are the same used by my high school's sports teams; black, cardinal red, and Vegas gold. But seriously, they have better vodka in Russia.

This vodka's not even bottom shelf, its on the floor.

The aroma of HRD can best be described as the in-your-face aroma of walking into a room where a woman (or in this day in age a man) has been applying nail polish, and the taste is the equivalent of downing a straight shot of rocket fuel. Shitty rocket fuel. Probably the rocket fuel China uses in their space program. Many people mix this abomination, in absurdly high proportions, with beverages like Coca Cola, orange juice, or Sprite in a futile attempt to mask its putrid taste. Its kind of like dipping vegetables in ranch to make them taste better. At the end of the day, they're still vegetables.

This vodka is proudly distilled in Hood River, Oregon, right next to an air port, so you know its good. At about eight dollars for a fifth of pure hangover inducing toxins, its no wonder that this brand has been such high seller in Oregon and Washington over the past years. This vodka is also double charcoal filtered, which I can only imagine must look something like this;

Source: HRDspirits.com/virtualtour

These people are actually just pouring rubbing alcohol and water into a charcoal grill, repeating the process, and putting it in a plastic container, another indication of its shittiness. I must commend these people though, for realizing that when it comes to people drinking themselves into oblivion, leaving themselves vulnerable to being drawn on with permanent marker or raped, people always choose quantity over quality.

Seriously though, if you're going to drink shitty vodka, get Burnett's. At least they effectively mask the taste with artificial flavors like watermelon, citrus, and peach. For as long as HRD is in business, which looks like until the day people stop drinking for some reason, lets refer to it as its real name; Hood Rat Drink.

Every Horoscope EVER

As a person who was born during this time of year, the giant spheres of hydrogen millions of light years away (stars) effect your life in the following manner;

You are a very outgoing person, but can be shy at times. People think you are funny some times, especially those you are close with! You are generally happy, but are sad at times, you get along with some people, but not with others, and you are generally polite, but can be rude at times. If your parents had done it at some other point during the year, your personality would be completely different, but still very easy to predict. You know, because the position of the stars in the sky has a lot to do with who you are.

In your personal life you have a lot of acquaintences, but only a few close friends. You have had a few really close relationships, and it is important to work on them! Yay! You have a job, or don't, and on your spare time you enjoy doing things like activities.

Your physical characteristics consist of a head, two arms, and two legs, unless you are some type of amputee. You find it necessary to shower and brush your teeth frequently, unless you are a hippie, which you may or may not be.

Isnt it crazy how accurate horoscopes are? I litterally just described ever imaginable detail about your life, personality, and even physical appearance down to a T. With pin point accuracy like this, its no wonder why americans spend millions of dollars a year on horoscopes and constantly use "whats your sign" as an opener when trying to sleep with strangers at bars.

Every time someone who believes in astrology there are inevitably a couple things that match their personality, and it is these small, insignificant, vague pieces of information that keep them hooked on this ancient lie.

Lets look at Astrology's origins. Atsrology is the worlds first religion, and was concieved when humans first learned how to track the stars across the night sky. Rather than share this information with the people the astronomers decided to keep this information to themselves so they could control people by knowing which days certain constellations would be out and how long the days would be, making them appear to be prophets. These people were looked at as wizards by the people who thought that stars had no predictable pattern of movement. Bunch of fuckin idiots, huh?

So congratulations, people who believe in astrology, you believe in a religion that was contribed thousands of years ago by people who figured out when the big dipper would be around, and why it was darker in the winter.

By the way ladies, im a Scorpio, and we have the best sex, according to your star worship at least.

My Religion: Cynicism

There is no better feeling than automatically hating everything you encounter in life, without even giving it a fair chance of judgment. The philosophy of cynicism is something that I have lived by since the time I have been able to formulate thoughts. It is the belief that nothing in the world is good, and everything is evil, repugnant, and in most cases, not worth your fucking time at all.

Here's why it is such a good way to live. When you assume the worst about everything, you are either correct, or delightfully surprised when you are proved wrong. For example, if I assume that a movie is going to be terrible, there are two possible out comes.

1. The movie is horrible, stars two fat chicks, and I am thus proved right, causing no emotional change whatsoever.

2. The movie far surpasses my expectations, has .34 explosions per minute, and I like it a l0t, which is awesome because I thought it was going to be a steaming pile of shit.

If you still somehow do not see the benefit of living this way, I will break it down for you. When you assume everything is going to be terrible, you are either proved right, and there is NO EMOTIONAL CHANGE or things go well and you are extremely happy because things have gone much better than what you expected.

I'm not negative, I'm just realistic. Throughout human history, far more bad things have happened than good things, so why should I automatically assume things are going to go well? from a purely statistical standpoint, the safe bet is to assume that shits going to get fucked up.

Cynicism is fucking stupid...

I'd Rather Play Russian Roulette than Chat Roulette

Up until Chatrt.com was added to the depraved cesspool that is the internet, I was proudly able to say that I had never viewed male solo pornography. This streak was swiftly put to an end the first time I used chat roulette. This is my cautionary tale of the dangers of chatroulette and what its true purpose really is.

Contrary to popular belief, Chatrt.com is not a place for people to video chat with arbitrary strangers all over the world, breaking down geographical and social barriers, enlightening the human race to the height of God. Nothing could be further from the truth. This website is a place to view streaming live video of men masturbating.

During my initial investigation of this site, I found that the odds of being paired with a man are about 1/6. It was the sixth person I had connected with. Now I've seen some crazy shit in my life. I forced myself to sit through the greater part of 2g1c, I've been pranked with meat spin more times than I can even count, and I even sat through an extended trailer of the movie precious, but seeing a low quality video of a man masturbating, knowing that it was happening at that very moment, even if just for half a second before I hit F9, was enough to make me want to pour rubbing alcohol into my eyes, and then remove them with a power drill.

Now, I'd like to take this paragraph to address the chatrt masturbaters;

Who do you think you are? Where do you get off? Do you really think that every random person you connect with is interested in seeing you doing that disgusting act? What is the sense of accomplishment here? "Oh sweet, some 17 year old girl saw my dick and went EWW!" I sincerely hope that everyone of you dies in a severe car accident, in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. That'll be all.

My Life is Now Meaningless

Today is the worst day of my life. After trying for weeks to play my favorite internet flash based game, Flash Flash Revolution, I learned today that the site is down and will most likely never return. I understand that not everyone who reads this site is as cool as I am and doesn't know what FFR is, so here is my detailed, in depth explanation of what it is.

Its Dance Dance Revolution you play on your computer with the arrow keys.

And it was the best mother fucking thing ever invented. This game brought me more hours of entertainment than any movie, sport, t.v. show, or social interaction combined. The false sense of achievement is a drug far more addictive than even Farmville, and the repetitive act of furiously mashing my fingers on the keys trying to keep up with the fast paced techno music got me through countless periods of class in what the government called my "education". Tragically the brilliant people behind this website decided to remove their website from the web, causing the internet to now be virtually useless to me except as a public forum to tell people about why I don't like things.

I'm not 100% sure on the details, but I'm pretty sure that the only reason this website was taken down is because the site owners are sick, sadistic psychopaths who had a diabolical agenda of creating something that millions of people would love and adore, only to arbitrarily take it away from us, leaving us in a state of persistent turmoil that we would never fully recover from. The beverage industry did this to us with Surge and Sprite Remix, McDonalds has done this numerous times with the McRib, and age did this to us by turning Pamela Anderson into a hideous, leather faced husk of a person.

I cannot stand idly by while this website continues to not exist, so I have no choice but to pledge my suicide if this website is not placed back on the internet by May 15 of 2010. The sad thing is that the villains behind these recent events in all likelihood want me to commit suicide, that being part of their original intent from the start. If the owner of FFR feels that I am bluffing, all i have to say is "try me". This deadline also applies to Sprite Remix, Surge, the McRib, and Pamela Anderson reversing her age.

Precious Finally gets an Honest Review

I know that traditionally when a person writes a review for a movie, they usually watch it first. Well I think that's bull shit, and I believe I have more than enough information from trailers, clips, and second hand testimonials to form a solid opinion of this movie.

I don't just give this movie two thumbs way down, I would actually cut them off and throw them in a river if didn't need them to hitchhike. This movie is such an abortion of cinema that it actually makes me wish I lived in a thirdworld (I'm sorry, I meant devoloping) country like France where they don't have internet or tv, so I never would have even been exposed to the fact that this movie even exists. I would rather watch an actual abortion than this movie.

When I first saw the trailer, I thougt, "wow, are they really making  another free willy movie?" But upon further inspection I found it odd that a whale would be walking upright on land, because they usually live in the sea. I looked even closer and realized that it was in fact just a morbidly obesse black woman. "Morbidly obesse" is an understatement. Words like "grotesque abomination" or "so fat when she goes to the ocean the tide comes in" come to mind. She would be overweight even for an actual whale.

Never in the history of film has a fatter, uglier person been in a movie. This woman has more fat in her upper lip than I do in my entire body. this leads to a major plothole in the movie because her family is on welfare, (you know, because all blacks are on welfare) and the amount of money for the food required to make someone this fat would be in the thousands of trillions. Fortunately, they explained this away in a clip they showcased for the oscars. But be warned, if you thought the Trident commercial I exposed was racist, then get ready for something that would make even a KKK leader say, "come on, we're not that fucked up."

The scene I'm talking about involves Free Willy, I mean Precious, going into a restaurant, ordering a large bucket of fried chicken, stealing it, and some how running away, causing a 6.0 magnitude earthquake. A black woman stealing fried chicken. This would be like a mexican jumping the border in a low rider, or a jew using a coupon for a circumcision. Throw in the welfare, and you're killing three stereotypical birds with one racist stone.

Its a sad thing that these types of movies (I'm sorry, I meant films) actually exist. The underlying concept that makes these movies so appealing to the film snob community is that they appear to break social norms. Brokeback mountain was popular because it featured gay cowboys, Monster was critically acclaimed because it had a beautiful woman play an ugly person, and Copout was mildly succesful because it featured a black cop and a white cop working together, something that the world had never seen before. Precious was a hit because it was the first movie to ever have an all orca whale cast.

Don't watch Precious, unless you really like watching a fat black chick beating the shit out of her fatter, blacker daughter.

Rejected Apology Speeches I Wrote for Various Celebrities

Tiger Woods: Sex Scandal

Dear nation. My actions in the past years have been regrettable at best and reprehensible at worst. Never in my life have I been so ashamed of myself. I could have done so much better. The women I've slept with recently have been generally from the bottom rung of society. Waitresses, strippers, stripper-waitresses, and any other combination there of. I am sorry I set my sights so low, and in the future will aim higher. Strippers? Really? I'm the highest paid athlete in the world, I should be having orgies with virgin Victoria's Secret models.

On another note, it has been rumored that I have a sex addiction. No shit, I'm a man, we're all addicted to sex. That's how we reproduce. If we weren't addicted to sex we'd be extinct in less time it takes for Perez Hilton make a casual comment that points out his homosexuality. I will not be checking into a sex rehab, because frankly, that very concept is a scam and I hear you aren't even allowed to masturbate when you are in those places, and I just don't think that's fair to anyone. I hope you will all forgive me, but I say that without sincerity because I am already a multi millionaire, and quite frankly, your opinions of me no longer matter.

Mark McGuire, Steroids.

I'm sorry, America. I let you all down. I'm sorry I hit all those home runs, breaking numerous records. I regret the countless hours of joy and entertainment I brought you by hitting a ball and then running around in a circle. To my sponsors, please accept my sincerest apology for all money I made you. Technically I'm the only person who was ever remotely adversely affected by steroid use, so really, the only person I have to apologize to is myself. Sorry, Mark.

Courtney Love

Sorry I drove Curt Cobain to suicide, and for existing.

Michael Phelps, Narcotics Incident.

What I did was inexcusable. I am a terrible, terrible person. I can only pay to the Christian God and Jesus Christ that my family, sponsors, and most importantly, the American people, will forgive me for using a substance that temporarily makes things funny. I would not like to apologize to Wheaties though, because seriously, nobody eats cereal that isn't primarily sugar. Its like eating hay. Fuck you, Wheaties.

Obviously this incident was much worse than the time I was caught driving drunk, so I'd also like to point out that I'm sorry for exposing how ignorant the media is for thinking that using marijuana is worse than driving drunk, which can actually result in a person's death. The biggest issue however, is that this whole event has fundamentally proved that a person is capable of being a hugely successful athlete while also being a pot smoker, and for that, please accept my deepest apologies.

I Hope Fireflies Become Extinct

Today at work my ears were raped. In the break room at my place of employment a radio was playing one of those clean top 40 hits stations that mothers play in their hybrid minivans so their 12 year old obese son doesn't have to be exposed to the evils of swear words. They played the usual modern day noise that the mainstream thinks is music, but then they played a song that made me envy deaf people; Fireflies, by Owl City.

For those of you fortunate enough to have some how never heard this song, its subject matter consists primarily of hugging insects, learning how to dance from said insects, disco balls, and crying. I know exactly what you're thinking, women sing about this type of stuff all the time, right? Wrong. This song is sung entirely by someone who appears to be a man.

There is no excuse for this type of behavior from a male musician. I've forgiven all the bands that write songs about their feelings for women so that they could bang a bunch of them when they go on tour, but I have no idea what Owl City is trying to accomplish with this feminine hygiene product of a song. Its almost as if they are making an honest effort to convey their emotions.


Society has recently been on a crusade to completely shatter the gender roles that evolution has provided. Women are trying to be more like men, and men are trying to be more like women, and its making people look like fucking idiots. Gone are the days of men drinking beer, watching sports, and getting in fist fights over seemingly trivial matters, and here are the days of apple martinis, 3D Disney movies, and talking about our problems. Leading psychologists agree, if you are a man its best to keep your emotions bottled up inside, and not bother anyone with them, becase quite frankly, they don't matter.

The male race is slowly metamorphasizing into a horde of pathetic middle school girls who sing about counting sheep and spooning with bugs. I'm surprised men are still even born with penises. I used to be a firm believer in freedom of speech, but when abortions of music like this are on the air, I'm not so sure anymore. I feel like my ears now have A.I.D.S.

GET A ROPE. GET A TREE. HAAANG THAT REFEREE

Every referee, in every sport, at every level, is a pathological idiot. Whether it be a volunteer team dad reffing his seven year old son's baseball game to a Norwegian bald man officiating a World Cup soccer match that decides the advancement of either Ireland or France, this is an axiom that reigns true 100 percent of the time. Allow me to explain.

Referees are humans, and humans make errors. Errors that can cost a team a championship. Errors that can crush an entire countries hope of defeating a world powerhouse. Errors that are apparent to everyone in the world on national television, but still stand. Well to quote Aristotle, I say "fuck that with a tire iron"

I have two propositions for eliminating this fallacy. The first is simple enough. If a referee makes a game changing error in judgement in the final two minutes of regular play that decisively causes a victory, or commits a net total of five obvious errors favoring one team over the course of the game, the game is replayed, and the referee is replaced. Stay with me, because the second idea is a lot more exciting.

All that needs be said, is robot referees. Its only logical. Most of the jobs in the past decade have been replaced by them. I can't remember the last time a real person gave me my bank account balance, which is nice because its humiliating, and cars have had a more solid, streamlined feel ever since the robotic assembly line. (Some of them can even accelerate on their own!) The adult entertainment industry is also taking advantage of a robot's emotional/religious indifference to various sex acts, not that I would have any experience in that matter of course.

Sensors are now small enough now that they could easily be placed in a players equipment and balls (the ones used for sports, what are you, like twelve?) making it certain exactly what's happening on the field. Human referees will still play a role in verifying more subjective things such as flagrant fouls, flops, and whether or not Ron Artest is about to commit aggravated assault again. Their secondary purpose will be to make sure that the robots don't become self aware, enslave the human race, and ultimately kill us all. God, I am so funny, no one has ever made a Terminator reference when talking about robots before.

Id just like to say "you're welcome" in advance to the NFL, MLB, NBA, NHL, the Olympics, and FIFA. To the WNBA all I can say to you is "referees were definitely not you're biggest problem."