Saturday night, after already having consumed numerous libations, we decided it might be a reasonable idea to try and create the worst cocktail known to man. At the time, this seemed like a humorous, perhaps even enjoyable endeavor.
Wow, were we wrong.
Incredibly wrong. Six beers, six tequila shots–oops I just peed my bed–wrong. But, surprisingly, we were shrewd enough to document the whole affair so that it could be enjoyed here today.
Thus, we present to you, the inaugural installment of an ongoing series that will be now known as:
So, my ass really, really wanted a pair of Winkers™. It’s been bugging me to buy a pair nonstop for months. Everywhere we go, all I hear is: “Matt, I need a pair of Winkers™” or “Matt, I’d look really good in a pair of Winkers™.” or “Matt, I’d be able to look at myself in a mirror with those Winkers™.” And I’d say, “Shut up, you have terrible taste in fashion, you ass.” But it simply would not quit. It really, really wanted those Winkers™. So finally, I gave in and purchased my ass a pair of Winkers™. My ass had its heart set on the Owl pattern, but unfortunately, the only pair they had in its size where the Original Winker Jeans™ with the Original Creepy Eyes™. When the package arrived in the mail, my ass had to try them on right away. I told him they looked like Mom Jeans™, to which he responded by calling me a racial slur. Naturally, I spun around so my ass could see itself winking at itself in the mirror–
This one might seem obvious to the reader who is familiar with the band Nickelback and also has ears. However, our commitment to a fair and thorough examination requires us to dig a little deeper. On paper, (especially this paper) it would seem that Dignity doesn’t have anywhere near a fighting chance when faced against an opponent as formidably unaware–nay–formidably proud of their own ever-widening black hole of shame.
After much number-crunching, our equations reveal that as matter approaches the Nickelback, nothing, not even self-awareness, can escape the immensely powerful gravitational force that sucks every ounce of self-respect and personal decency into an infinitely small point–the singularity–where it is crushed into something approaching this.
Undeterred by this nightmarish scenario, we decided to put our theory to the test. Armed with the lyrics to two separate Nickelback songs, we would attempt to read them out loud while still maintaining our dignity. In the interest of fairness and credibility, a few controls were put in place. Both songs had to be from their latest album, (to reflect their most mature and refined material to date) and both songs had to address a similar theme.
Matt chose the rather obvious “S.E.X.”, while Robby opted for the slightly more subtle “Something in Your Mouth“.
Here Robby and Matt tackle two classic late-night television staples: the Knife Show takes on the Barack Obama Commemorative Plate for the title of Greatest TV Product/Representation of America.
Matt will be arguing on the side of the Obama Plate.
1.) Because he has one.
and
2.) Because he’s a loony left-coast liberal elitist.
Robby will be arguing in favor of Knife Show.
1.) Because he likes swords.
and
2.) Because he likes swords.
aturday night, after already having consumed numerous libations, we decided it might be a reasonable idea to try and create the worst cocktail known to man. At the time, this seemed like a humorous, perhaps even enjoyable endeavor.
his one might seem obvious to the reader who is familiar with the band Nickelback and also has ears. However, our commitment to a fair and thorough examination requires us to dig a little deeper. On paper, (especially 
