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Topics - Sir Squid Diddimus

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2
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / So here's a question
« on: April 14, 2014, 06:36:50 am »
Kind of out of the blue, but you spags are the most logical and, quite honestly, realistically thinking people I know.
HYPOTHETICALLY (seriously, don't dig too deep into this shit, it's just a question I'm pondering)
What's worse on a child:
A) A parent suiciding themself,   OR
B) A child watching their parent suffer for their whole life, wondering when and if it's going to happen, and in those years, watching their parent degrade and suffer the entire way

My uneducated guess is B.
A, they can grieve and get over it after some undisclosed amount of time, and live on knowing their parent is finally at ease and content and FREE (from their depression, or ailment that wants this kind of thing, or whatever), while B, they would constantly have this worry in their hearts. "Will it be today? Tomorrow? Next week?"

What are your thoughts PD?

3
So every year since 2010, Cigar City Brewery has held a release party for their award winning and highly coveted Hunahpu Imperial Stout.
The first event was very relaxed as there were only a few hundred in attendance. As the brewery and the beer became more popular (and more valuable), the event grew to unmanageable proportions, and this year they tried, and failed miserably, to control the release day a little better.

It failed.... BADLY.
People flew in from other states to get their hands on a few bottles of this black gold, and when things went wrong. They went really wrong.

http://www.tampabay.com/things-to-do/food/spirits/cigar-citys-hunahpus-day-a-mess-but-so-was-angry-mobs-response/2169515

http://thefullpint.com/events/cigar-city-hunahpus-day-2014-fallout-pics/

http://www.tampabay.com/things-to-do/food/spirits/cigar-city-ends-hunahpus-day-after-angry-crowds/2169435

The last one I attended was 2012. It just started getting too big and too crowded. I don't do crowds, so I'm glad as hell that I didn't attend this year's either.
They tried to put a cap on it at 3500, but that didn't go as planned, since people started forging tickets from eventbrite, and you know, nobody thought to buy an extension cord and keep their phones charging while they had to scan the 6,000 or so people who showed ups tickets.
The crowd got hotter, drunker, and angrier as the day progressed, and then it happened.
They ran out of the beer before everyone got the three bottles that their $50 ticket promised them.

Oh hell.
People got unruly, threw empty bottles at volunteers and staff, everyone was forced out by police, yelled, pushed, and chanted "Cigar City Sucks"... all over piss poor event planning.

Now, I love this brewery and I do back them and their product. However, I do not feel a bit sorry for them for this day.
They've grown too big for their britches, should have spent the money on an event coordinator, not trusted the public to just be cool and drink good beer.
The consumer whorism within the beer community is disgusting. People were buying up to 10 cases each at $20 a pop before others that were promised their three bottles even had the chance to get to the tables. Why?
Let me show you:

It's rated a solid 100 on beer forums http://www.beeradvocate.com/beer/profile/17981/47022/

It RESELLS online through beer forums for anywhere between $100-$300.
WHAT. People buy this stuff, turn around and trade or resell it for ridiculous amounts of money.

Cigar City failed that day, and their reaction is to flip a table and fuckitty bye.
No more Hunahpu Day.

The backlash on the internet has been hilariously gross.
The fake Ebay listing I found was so awesome, till they took it down.




You see this? He almost DIED TO DEATH to get them.

4
I am invading your space Apr. 23-28.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

5
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Stupid Bar Shit
« on: February 13, 2014, 05:07:25 am »
Here is where I will unload my stupid happenings of day.
Enjoy knowing what it's like to work in the world of the drunk and stupid.


New distributor pulls truck up to front of building and starts walking to the door. I open the door and yell
Me: City Bev?
Driver: Yeah
Me: go ahead and bring that around back. All deliveries go through the back.
Driver: Yeah I was gonna bring it around back
He then proceeds to unload his truck and load his dolly with multiple kegs and cases of cider. I watch, confused. A while later he comes through the back door through the kitchen (mind you it's quite a haul all the way around to the back of the building). Guy is pouring sweat and I whisper
"I meant the truck too"
Driver: oh. yeah that would have been easier


Bartender: my vagina hurts
Me: WUT
Bartender: my uh... my birth canal
Me: the hell did you do to... no. never mind.

6
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Dearest ECH....
« on: October 10, 2013, 07:16:34 pm »
You have been forever immortalized as a pumpkin beer flight containing favorites from our God blessed United States' east coast.

These include:
Dogfish Head Punkin
Brooklyn Brewery Post Road Pumpkin
Southern Tier Warlock
Terrapin Pumpkinfest

This flight has been dubbed the "East Coast Hustle".
Our people thank you.

8
At the bar I work at, Tuesdays, we have become invaded by....


FURRIES.

I'm talkin full fox costumes from head to paw.
They take over the pool table area, barely drink, and stink.

 :cry:  my watering hole is tainted by blue and white fluff, and one of the fuckers waved and meowed at me.


9
An Overly Explained Look Inside the Manically Depressed Mind


Depression is a cruel and ugly bitch. I imagine her looking something like a hag with snargly hair standing over a cauldron, stirring up your emotions and cackling while adding ingredients like guilt, self loathing, anger and resentment while the light of the full moon illuminates her scabby, pimply skin. Beaming off the mole on her neck in a way that makes the thick hair hanging out of it glow like a fiber optic wire. Then you look in the mirror and see her staring back at you and you want to kill her.

That urge comes not from some self pitying “You'll miss me when I'm gone” type of fantasy, but from fear. Fear of who you are and all the things you don't understand about yourself. The way we instinctively want to smash a spider.

You hate what you don't understand, and you understand yourself least of all the things.

What is this black cloud? Why am I so sad? What is this invisible impending doom? Why does my heart hurt when I breathe? Why doesn't anyone else feel like this?Why do they get to hog all the happy and live carefree? You resent them for this. Hate them sometimes. It makes you unreasonably and irrationally mean, cruel, and cold. You distance yourself and stay in bed.

So what can you do to fix this? I mean, everyone wants to fix something that's broken, right? Clearly, if you're sad for no reason, you're broken, and depression hurts everyone.

Depression does hurt everyone, but no one worse than you. You're having a nice evening with your family, doing what families do, but you can't even muster the strength to crack a smile let alone enjoy them or yourself. This is where the guilt gets dropped into the cauldron.

You see their loving, smiling faces look at you. Their eyes tell you they know. Their mouth are smiling but their eyes look pained with upturned eyebrows as if to say “I'm sorry for your loss and don't know what to say or do”, but you didn't lose anything. No one has died. This kills you. You feel like you're dragging them into the mire with you and it hurts so bad that you'd rather die and end their suffering than to have to see them sympathize and hurt. You think of how much better off they'd be without you. How does that feel. Yeah, like shit.

This is where anger is stirred in. You get so mad at yourself for thinking that, and then for being this way. You hate yourself. You eat junk that's bad for your body and makes you feel icky as punishment. You deprive yourself of water because you don't want to get up to get it, and then you don't really deserve it anyway. You shave a little too hard on purpose. You hit your head with your hairbrush. Take that, self! That's what you get! Freak! Then you go to bed and you try as hard as you can to fall asleep so you can shut yourself up and make it all go away. Well guess what. No sleep for you! Oh no, we're gonna lie here and think about how miserable we make everyone, and how bad the world is, and how there are hungry children with no home or food or water or family that loves them and here you are, you miserable piece of shit, squandering what a wonderful thing you have because your stupid squishy brain wants to be sad.

Here comes the self loathing. 5:00am rolls around and you just fell asleep. Finally. Minutes pass and it's 7:00. Hey ugly! Get up and go do your stupid job! The least you can do is that, right? Right. The mere idea of getting out of that bed to go fill a room with your miserable presence sends you spiraling into a whirlpool of dark eyed disgust. You know you have to do this, to show that you actually have some purpose, some worth... but you can't. I can't! But you do, and you hate every minute of it. The end of the work day can't come fast enough. Everything that everyone around you does just destroys you from the inside out.

Loud voices trying to talk to you, making your ears ring. You don't care what they have to say, you don't want to hear it, but you smile and nod and “uh huh” and just hope like hell that they shut up soon so you can ignore them. Chewing, breathing, laughing, humming. Every little thing pushes you over the edge. Your heart pounds, your armpits sweat, your teeth hurt from the adrenaline your stupid mind is pumping out, the butterflies in your stomach have worked their way up into your throat and you want to puke, but all you can do is burp and stare at the clock.

How can they just sit there and be so ignorant and happy? You become suspicious, there's just no way. There's no way that everyone here but me is happy. They're just better at hiding it. You start to pick out flaws or make up scenarios that would cause them to be miserable. That one is fat, she can't be happy. This one is gay, that's gotta be rough in this society, surely they suffer too, right? Right??

No. It really is just you. So you're broken, different, wrong. Lash out! Say something mean that's kind of funny. That will make it better for sure. No. It doesn't. Well then, FIX IT!

Truth is, and here's where the problem lies, you can't fix it. There is no cure, no miracle drug, no magic unicorn that's going to make you a better person. Pharmaceuticals start a cycle of dependency and struggle. They exacerbate the problem. Take one a day, oh I forgot a day now I feel funny. Take one in the morning, did I take it this morning? Take it again at night on accident cause you forgot, now you're fucked. Take this one to calm you down when you feel especially anxious, that's better. Well if one helps, why not two? Why not the whole bottle? See where this is going? Nothing is going to tell those malfunctioning receptors in your biologically inferior brain to work correctly. Think happy thoughts. Ha ha! Oh, that's a good one. Yeah, you stay positive there. Sorry, it doesn't work that way. Your brain is firing a million electrons of ugly directly at your heart lobe and there isn't a damned thing you can do about it.

You try therapy. Talking it all out with a stranger. First session, you're unsure. Kind of weird, you cry, in front of a stranger. What a loser. Second time, you feel a little better about. No tears, things click, make sense, light bulbs brighten, things are in a better perspective. Third? Well, there won't be a third cause you called and canceled. Oh, you idiot! You were just breaking some ground!

No. I don't want to and I don't have to. This becomes your new mantra. Well, now you're in it. You've just given up. May as well end it and get it over with. You want to, but for some reason unbeknownst to you, you don't. You struggle day in and day out with your stupid feeling, your heavy shoulders, your crap sleep for a couple of hours, then wake up and do it all over again the next day. You miserable fucking sack of juice and loathing.

10
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / I found the source
« on: February 23, 2013, 12:11:52 am »
I think I've found the source of stupid in America.

There is a female in my office who is pregnant with her third child. She claims to have some form of dyslexia and is pregnant with her third child. One of her children has some form of Aspergers/autism, yet here she is, making another one.
She asks a lot of questions about mundane things outside of work stuff, and expects others around her to just answer her. Most of the time someone jumps and answers her stupid question, probably because they want to feel smart.

Here is the problem. We have smart people with few or no children, who choose to be smart, doing all the work for these lazy, co-dependent idiots who keep populating the Earth with their low-grade, lazy ass little turds.

It infuriates me that this gestating bitch is so lazy and numb that she would rather call a catering company, on her telephone, to have an employee who makes shit for pay explain to her in full detail what something on their menu is rather than just fucking Google it and see for herself with her own crossed stupid eyes.
She will not eat at a restaurant that doesn't have pictures on the menu. She will not eat at fancy places that use big words that she can't understand (and we know she won't use her fucking phone to Google it and find out)
She is the reason mom and pop places fail in my town. She is the reason chain restaurants and giant corporations like Walmart are fucking KING here. She is too fucking stupid to learn anything or think for herself. She doesn't want to have to look for something she wants it handed to her on a cheap plastic Chinese plate.
I HATE HER.
I want everyone like her to remove themselves from my sight. Get out of my town and off my lawn!!
FUCKING FUCK!
Her skin would be better used to help burn victims. AND SHE KEEPS BREEDING!

11
Discordian Recipes / Drinkin fancy
« on: February 14, 2013, 02:56:56 am »
Post your awesome recipes or some good ol classics here.
I'll start:

Got some Bombay Sapphire layin around? What in the hell are you supposed to do with THAT?!?
Simple. The only way to make it drinkable is to infuse it with earl grey tea. Yup, stick this shit in a jar with some EG tea bags and leave it alone overnight or longer. Result? Drinkable Bombay Sapphire!

English Garden

1+1/2 jigger tea infused gin
3/4 jigger St Germaine's elderflower liqueur
1 jigger (or so) San Pellegrino lemon soda
squeaze of fresh lime juice
2 drops rose water
2 slices cucumber

In a shaker with ice combine all booze, juice and one slice cucumber. Shake it like the hysterical woman from Airplane! then strain into a tom collins glass over ice. Top off with soda and garnish with the other cuke slice.
Drink that shit through a straw or jam a funnel in your ass and buttchug it for maximum boozohol blackout!
FUCK go crazy! Add a dash of BITTERS if you want! PARTYYYYYYYYYY!

12
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / "I love you"...
« on: February 13, 2013, 11:27:43 pm »
My husband says this to me a lot. A LOT.
Like every few miles in the car, random intervals throughout an evening, texts throughout the day, only it's just "love you". Informal.

I know I should be grateful, but it's gotten to a point where I hear it so often it's losing it's meaning. Like just blurting out "Purple!" at me. I sigh most of the time when I hear it.

Is he saying it because he can't stand silence? Doesn't know what else to say so just says it? Habit? Knows I suffer from severe depression and thinks that if he says it enough I might "snap out of it" or he fears every time he says it it might be the last time he gets to tell me cause I might off myself or something?
What would make a person say this so often? I don't understand? I know he loves me, he shows me every day in the things he does.
I just don't get it.

Am I just a complete asshole?

14
I can't be held accountable every time Roger decides to go on one of his little tangents.
"You weren't around enough. You didn't hold him enough. You didn't teach him enough life lessons, how to cook, how to wipe is ass, etc.."
So now what. We have some self-important asshat of a "human being" what wears madgiqual underwear running against a kenyan alien from space, drones spying on us and killing families in foreign countries with no reach around, cats AND dogs living in the same household, hellish chicken sandwiches made of hate and fear banned by the rainbow toting hippies who just want their fair share of their lover's loot and this is MY FAULT??

Fuck you! Take responsibility AND take that scurvy bastard out for a walk every once in a while. Do I have to do EVERYTHING around here?!?

FUCKING FUUUUUUUUCK!!

15
In light of this recent news about your state's crime against humanity in the form of advertising Keystone as "BEER" I hereby declare war on your pathetic dust storm of a state.
If anyone there actually considers that watery hippo puss to be anything resembling a beer, be it pilsner, lager or otherwise, than they deserve ... TO HAVE TO DRINK IT.

Yup, that's it. Your cactus infested shit plate of a state is hereby CUT OFF of all beer. And I don't mean that rice corn and preservative piss water you melted brained wind heads call beer I mean REAL beer. Made of water, barley, hops and yeast. The way beer fucking SHOULD be made.

As for the guy on the billboards with the mullet.. well, his punishment is obviously to never get laid so long as that unfortunate event exists upon his maggot chewed cereal bowl of a "skull".

What have you got to say for yourselves, you puke!

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