Cigar Bars

Time to continue the nighttime serial posting. I will make this one brief because I am tired, but just had to share…Cigar bars…

So I just got out of the shower and it is 12:30PM. I didn’t go for a run or get wildly drunk and decide to play battleship in the tub like I do on many occasions. I reeked of cigars after spending a good 5 hours in a cigar bar and boy is that smoke hard to get out of your skin and hair (and I basically have no hair). So why then would I write about this – because I can….ahaha

So I am not a big cigar smoker. I don’t think I have smoked a cigar in about 2 or 3years, but when some guys at work put together a guys night I couldn’t pass on the night. Guys nights are few and far between so I jumped right on. What a fantastic night – we went to one of the 4 remaining cigar bars in NYC because of the smoking ban. There are only 4 goddamn bars left – can you believe this? I understand not having cigarette smoking in bars, but there should be more than 4 bars in which you can smoke cigars. I am now convinced cigar smoking is badass – and this is why:

6:45PM: Arrive at bar and am worried I may have to roll up my sleeves because this place looks classy. Oak bar and big lounge chairs, all men, and hot women waitresses – my interest is suddenly awoken.

7:05PM: First beer arrives, brought by hot waitress – basketball games are on and the place smells like wonderfully flavored tobacco and scotch.

7:45PM: Burgers arrive and third round of beers. Burger is so big that I have to squeeze it to fit it in my mouth. The place is filled with me bullshitting in loud volume now.

8:00PM: Spanish/Mexican band starts playing and hot women just magically appear dancing in a very Shakira-like manner 3 feet from my head. Still working on the burger in a comfy chair. This place rocks.

8:45PM: Dinner gone and the cigars and single malt scotch arrive. Ladies keep dancing around to music. Cigars with single malt are sooo soo good. Sitting and relaxing with the aroma of cigars is unmatched.

9:30PM: Next round of scotch and still working on the same cigar. 30 year-old girl walks over and starts talking to me. In the conversation she asks if the group I was with “was having a business meeting”. Seriously – its 9:30 and we are drinking and cursing – that would be one hell of a business meeting. Who cares, this girl likes steak, potatoes, cigars and scotch. I contemplate proposing.

10:45PM: Cigar gone and more beers ordered. This place rocks. It has totally transformed into a speakeasy type bar and this is awesome.

11:30PM: Leave the bar – SOBER! This is a first, but cigar bars are awesome.
No theories or categories or analogies – just scotch, beer, cigars and burgers tonight.

Walk of Shame or Pride? Part II

I am breaking my personal record with three posts today. I just can’t help it. I wrote about the walk of shame and feel so obligated to my readers to provide a story of my most famous walk of shame. Get ready for this one…

So its winter 2006, and it’s time for the annual company holiday which is a black tie event. I throw on my tux and instantly visions of 007 Bond fill my head – I will save that for another day. Holiday party goes well and my tux has done its work – a girl finds me attractive. My attractiveness is some combination of booze, a tuxedo, and the chocolate fountain this place had. Well after the after party at a bar, I receive the golden invite back to the nice young lady’s apartment. I feel like I have just got the last “golden ticket” to go see the Willy Wonka factory. We hop in a lovely NYC cab and on the way back to her place.

Now the real fun starts. So we get back to her place and we….now what kind of person do you think I am? Do you think I would really recount the exploits of this wonderful holiday night and tarnish the image of this lovely girl? Well from what you have read, if any, this might seem like the obvious next step in the story, but I am going to skip it. Lets just say we “watched a movie”, but not the entire feature film.

So time comes for me to leave (I of course get my pants), but oh shit I am in NYC, in a tux, its 7AM and I have to be at work in 2 hours. Can I go to work like this? Dress clothes from the day before is one thing, but there is no way I am pulling off wearing a tuxedo to work on a casual Friday. I gotta get home, but this requires quite a hike and crossing state lines. So I get up, throw on all my clothes and say fuck it, I am not embarrassed, and still look good in a tux so I can go home like this. Now keep in mind I am in a full tuxedo, with the tie hanging around my neck and an ear to ear grin on my face, ready to make a 3 leg journey home:

1st leg – 2.5 block walk to the PATH passing people on their way to get morning coffee, the paper or early birds on their way to work. I get a couple glances, but I am walking a good pace so I don’t notice much.

2nd leg – The longest. A 30 minute ride across(under) the Hudson to get home. Now I am making the reverse commute so the train isn’t packed, but there are still a lot of people on their way to work and there I am sitting on the train in a somewhat wrinkled tux, neck hanging from my neck, smile on face and smelling like expensive single malt scotch. I am in all my glory and even get a nod and a couple smirks from the guys on the train because they knew I was on my way home. Now I didn’t get an evil eye, but there were definitely some disapproving stares from the women on the train.

3rd leg – The hilarious part. Exit the train into a station full of young professionals on their way to work. I am in full stride and still with a beaming smile. I got ass last night and they are all on their way to work so I am clearly in the advantage here. Every third person does a double take as a I stream by them with one resolute goal on my mind – not to make it to work, but to make it Dunkin Donuts for breakfast. I have earned it and normally don’t indulge in the Double D (Dunkin Donuts) for breakfast – tis the season. Still in full stride I blow through the doors and get in line. My sausage egg & cheese on an everything bagel is only 3 people away. I get to the counter, place my order, pay and as I am getting my change back the 50-year old Indian man working the counter says – “Had a good night kid?” – yes sir I did. Most people in a walk of shame would grab their breakfast to go. I sat there eating my sandwich and savoring my coffee because it was tasty. There were many more looks, but I was getting used it now, and I don’t blame them. I was in a full tuxedo at 7:45AM in a Dunkin Donuts. Unfortunately, the 1 mile walk home was uneventful, but it was one hell of a walk of shame. More of a walk of black tie style.

That picture is of Miranda Kerr again - I won't say the walk of shame was home from her apartment, but the girl slightly resembles her...

Walk of Shame or Pride?

Because I have been such a slacker, I am going to make this the first double post day in a while, and this one may just get your attention. We already covered one-night stands, but I would be remiss if I didn’t rant about the glorious walk of shame, the bastard step child of the one-night stand. Whether it’s a college hook up or good old American one night stand everyone has done the walk of shame. More intricate versions of the walk of shame include taxi rides, calling friends to pick you up or various forms of public transportation. For the purpose of this intricate art of bullshitting I call blogging, let’s use a typical Friday night at the college of your choice as the example as we examine the precursors, causes and effects of the walk of shame from both the male and female perspective. You may see a difference here between how a guy and girl treat the walk of shame:

Friday Pre Game
Guy: Drink with other guys while playing video games or watching a guy movie planning what girl(s) you are going to try and conquer tonight
Girl: Spend 1 hour getting ready while going through multiple outfits and have boxed wine

Friday Party
Guy: Drinks a lot really quick to get drunk and have courage to talk to young co-eds, finds a nice young lady who actually thinks he is charming when he is drinking. Girl may be drunk, but she invites him back to her dorm room to “watch a movie”. Guy gets nods of approval from group.
Girl: Drinks at a steady, marathon-like place, moving at regular intervals from tipsy to buzzed to drunk. Finally, the alcohol gives them licenses to accept the advances of a certain guy at the party. They also accept an invite to “go watch a movie” in the guy’s room.

Friday Late Night
Need I elaborate on this – come one we are all adults. If you didn’t know, “watching a movie” is the most obvious code for hooking up or baby-making. It happens in dorm rooms all across American and its probably happening as you read this post – God Bless College.

And now for the good part…

Saturday Morning (assuming you weren’t class and stuck around for breakfast)
Girl: Find your heels. You wore heels out last night as part of your classy outfit, but they easily get tossed in the shuffle of “watching a movie”. Poke the guy who you went home with last night and who is still in his bed. If you get a grunt, that is probably the best goodbye you are going to get – so take that as a positive note that you so ravaged the guy that he is exhausted. Start the walk home through the quad or down the street back to your dorm. Your head is down in an equal mixture of shame and the fact that your makeup went buckwild and migrated around your face. You don’t look up at any people passing by and will even go so far as the walk 4 blocks out of the way to avoid Jen from your Chem lecture. There is no way you are going to pass ofd the outfit you have on now as something you put on this morning, so you walk with the acceleration of an Olympic speedwalker. You hit your dorm doors and have made it through campus without running into any early morning tours or friends. You sneak down the hallway to get to you room. Half the hallway to go…6 doors….3 doors…. “Hi Becky, that outfit looked great on you LAST NIGHT!” You have been caught and oh the rumor mill is put in motion

Guy: Find your pants. Pants are important no matter if you are making pancakes or raking leaves. Get up, say goodbye to girl who found you drunkenly attractive. Time to get home and walk through the quad, down the street or however you get home. Unlike the girl, this is no walk of shame – this is a walk of pride. Your head is held higher than if you graduated with high honors from Harvard. You just got ass last night – no one questions the quality (looks) of the girl – you got ass nonetheless my friend. There is no shame in this walk, only strutting. You have an extra bounce in your step and most likely a smile on your face. You see other guys on their walk home and nods are exchanges and even high fives. Your clothes even appear as if they are fresh because guys always dress like slobs. This glorious night may even inspire you to go eat breakfast on a weekend in the caf (which despite popular opinion, does serve a meal before brunch on the weekend).

Thus we conclude the glorious comparison of the walk of shame. It happens everywhere and at all ages and to various degrees. My sophomore year of college I had a house on the main drag at school and had to be up early (9AM) to go to practice on the weekends and was witness to this ritual on a weekly basis. Fantastic.

Brrr…..Beer

Musings in a Coffee Shop

Again, I proceed to get lazier and lazier with this blog, but oh well. Maybe as the weather warms up so will my creativity. I am not working today, but have been furiously been trying to catch up on thesis work – maybe that’s why I haven’t posted, but it’s probably just because I have been ultra-lazy. However, Panera to the rescue. Yes – Panera, that wonderful hybrid of Starbucks and a high-class deli. It is essentially my library because the recliner, DVD player, dartboard and flat screen in my apartment absolutely ruin any chance I have of doing any real school work.

So I get to Panera about 11:30 this morning to get a good start in cranking out a couple more pages so I don‘t fail out of grad school (although at this point I think they would just pass me to get me out of their school). Now sitting in a Starbucks or any other coffee-type place is like a battle specifically in seating – it’s like a high school cafeteria. Let me elaborate:

Window Seats – for the ultra social people who come with books and newspapers, but really want to talk to everyone.

“Outlet” Seats – the most coveted seats for those working on laptops with no real battery charge and need an outlet. Finding one of these seats is like uncovering a hidden bottle of Grey Goose at the back of your freezer. Hell, people even go so far as to stalk people as they are packing up to leave. In my cruel ways, I frequently fake packing up just to fuck with these people. This will most likely come back to bite me in the ass one day.

Comfy Seats – each coffee place has 3 or 4 chairs that are the most comfortable thing in the world. Even if you went to the trendiest furniture store you wouldn’t be able to get the cushiness of these couches because they have been worn in by thousands of coffee drinkers. These bastions of backrest are usually snatched up by “trendy” people who are reading post-modern novels in another language because reading Jean-Paul Sarte at a table is an insult to the French intellectual movement of the 1880’s – duh!

Back Back Seats – tucked all the way in the bowels of the coffee shop, it is like a morgue back where these seats are. They are essentially the Upper Deck of the coffee shop without the drunk fireman yelling for D. Wright to hit a home run. People back here are writing long papers or on a strict deadline for work. You talk on your phone or even get a text message and you will get the evil eye and possibly spear tackled (which I would pay to see).

Counter Seats – the last option of seats. Everything else is taken up and there are only two tables left next to the counter and right between the Kenyan coffee bean sale and the remnant Christmas crap they are trying to unload on you. Even with your iPod blaring some classic Hendrix, there is no way you will be able to block out the “baristas” shouting their orders – triple, non-fat, light-foam, skinny, mocha espresso – What???? Nobody can last in this seat for more than 15 minutes are you will eventually feel the need to get up and yell – “Just order a large goddamn coffee!”

As a side note, or post-script, this is the first time I am in a coffee shop during the day and during the week. My traditional cohorts of students and corporate junkies are at work or in class. I thought the coffee shop would be empty and I would be able to pump out some pages. Not a chance in hell. I have discovered a world I had all but forgotten about – moms and kids. I am not exaggerating one bit by saying I see 11 strollers and upwards of 25 kids running around Panera right now. And when the hell did strollers get all pimped out? I swear some of these strollers are nicer than my last car – I am convinced one of them may actually have a plasma TV in it and possibly a Wii. Moms and kids (not old enough to be in school) rule the coffee shops during the week it seems. They team up to eat lunch in groups, but even acknowledge other groups of Moms with a simple, very guy-like nod of approval – the kind when you see a guy take a hot girl out of a bar. The one benefit – MILF mania. These moms are definitely taking good care of themselves these days…and I contemplate the career of a male nanny or Manny.

OK – back to work…

Brrr….Beer

Bachelor Series: 6-pack of Bachelor Eats

Again, it has been a long while since I have written. Creativity has once again eluded me like Road Runner and Wiley E. Coyote cartoons. I just can’t find either. Then I got to thinking and figured why not just write about myself and the wonderful bachelor lifestyle. Inflating my ego can’t hurt. Now I know you are thinking the same thing I am. DP, can one entry really sum up the fantabulous lifestyle you live? No – and thus we have the wondrous and magnanimous (yea I got a word of the day calendar) birth of “The Bachelor Series” – your front row ticket to the seedy underbelly of a northeastern bachelor…buckle up and get ready to be offended in every imaginable way. First stop on this tour – food. Really, I am going to attempt to write a whole post about food because I had a good dinner tonight.

Everyone eats. America more than anyone else as is evident by all the show on TV in which losing weight has become a contest. But as a bachelor you follow a completely different and obscure diet. The food pyramid you learned in grammar school is as useless as tits on a bull (I love that expression). I don’t have any cool graphics for my food system because I am lazy and can’t draw so you will have to use your imagination when I describe…..drum roll please…the “6 pack of bachelorhood eats”

#1 – Beer
Come on. Were you really surprised that this was the first group? Beer not only provides essential carbohydrates but also supplies the body with alcohol – a heart healthy compound that also serves to relax you after those long days or weeks at work. Even more – beer comes in a variety of flavors – pilsner, stout, lager, ale, white, etc and lots of brands.
Note: Beer also serves as a hallucinogen when drank is mass quantities making ugly women seem attractive and causing bad decisions.

#2 – Take Out
Ahhh yes – where else can you eat quesadillas, General Tso’s chicken, and a milkshake for dinner? You can’t in one place and thus God’s wonderful creation of take out. In any robust city you will be able to sample a veritable United Nations of culinary options on any given night. Pro bachelors not only know how to order from multiple restaurants to assemble one meal and have an account with delivery.com, but they know how to time multiple orders to be picked up on the way home – for less than $10!!

#3 – Bagels/Sandwiches
Everyone eats bagels and sandwiches, but only bachelors take eating them to a new level. Selection of your bagel place is a very delicate process and given more consideration than pregnant women give when choosing what MD will deliver your bagel. The perfect bagel place must be in walking vicinity, have good food, good service, a hot counter girl and an old man who will memorize your funky sandwich order after only a few visits. And because he knows how to make what your dub (in my case) the “turkey tornado” (pepper turkey, American cheese, mayo, Boar’s hear honey mustard on a fresh everything bagel) he gets your repeat business.

#4 – Meat
Who says that having a T-Bone with a side of chicken wings is bad for you? Protein builds muscles and after the three bagels you had for breakfast you don’t need anymore carbs. However as a bachelor, your meat choices when not eating out are limited to the following; red meat, chicken, sausage, and whatever is in my chili. When you maturity and age have taken over you will learn the differences among the different kind of red meats, but for now if it bleeds you will eat it.

#5 – Cereal/Granola Bars/Fruit/Any other healthy shit
Now and then, after you have downed a half-pound cheeseburger drenched in BBQ sauce with seasoned fries and 3 lagers, you feel a modicum of guilt about what you just ate. In these cases bachelors eat whatever is deemed “healthy” in their apartment. “Healthy” can be anything from Resse’s Puffs to Chewy bars to milkshakes to actual real fruit. If it has something that is remotely healthy than it makes you feel better about the 5000 calories your lunch entailed. This unnatural common senses usually lasts all of a couple hours until a roommate/friend decides to order out for pizza or wings. As a bachelor, you don’t really have to worry about all that cholesterol nonsense just yet. Hell most bachelors can still eat like crap and exercise most of it away. It’s a gift that is eventually stolen away along with one’s youth and alcohol tolerance.

#6 – Drunken, Post-Bar Food
Alas my favorite category and thus saved for last. Bachelors know how to party and drink obviously, but they are the finest connoisseurs in the inebriated-fueled culinary arts. Post-bar food selection normally encompasses pizza, McDonalds or a dinner. However, the real superstars in the bachelor category have honed their drunken food selection to include such rare gems as late night Mexican burritos, all-night bagel places and the Holy Grail of post-bar food – Johnny Rockets. Drunken Post-bar food is bad for you 99% of the time and you always regret eating it the next morning (especially when you taste the Rodeo burger you had at 4 AM), but food will never ever taste so good – except when you are eating it off the chiseled abs of a Brazilian supermodel.

Next up in the bachelor lifestyle – dressing for success with as little effort as possible…


Brrr….Beer

5-year Post-College Plan

So I have again fallen behind on the blogging. Blame school, work, and mostly laziness. Well another great idea came on the bus today. I am going to hit my second parade of the St. Pats season this weekend in the lovely town of my alma mater which had me reflecting on my post-collegiate lifestyle – and by lifestyle I mean the major adjustments I had to make to actually be a member of the adult-working world. So lets all go for a ride on (get ready for another theory) the 5-year post-college plan

Graduation – 1 year
That’s right you’ve graduated. Maybe 4 years. Possibly 5. 6 – way to be a dumbass. Either way you are not allowed at school anymore for fear of being that creepy guy. If you are smart you take the summer off to travel, blow some graduation money or just bum around and drink. Those really ambitious graduates get these magical things called jobs, where you get money for going to an office all dressed up and play on the Internet all day. The nerdy ones decide that they love school so much they want to go to graduate school where all classes are at night – why????
Flip flops, jeans, t-shirts and your favorite baseball hat are still your “uniform”, but you have grown up and will not wear flip flops unless its 40 degrees of higher – very mature. Thursday, Friday Saturday and Sunday-Funday drinking are still the normal behavior, but you learn that beer costs money in bars and keg parties are few and far between. You go back to school every 6 weeks to relive the glory days and are not yet considered creepy.

1 year – 2 years
All nine planets have aligned and by some magnificent act of Thor (the might God of drinking) you are still employed and possibly the recipient of a bonus, raise or promotion. Some of your colleagues at work actually take you seriously because they don’t know what you do on the weekend. Your apartment has grown into adulthood with the addition of pictures on the wall and the occasional cleaning. The fridge space is half alcohol and half real food – some big steps.
You only drink three days a week and have some methods for dealing with hangovers at work. Binge drinking still occurs once or twice a week and you are still able to rebound from 90% of your hangovers. You hit up your old college 4-6 times, but no more than that. Hey – you actually own a suit that fits??? Holy crap. Flip flop level is now 50 degrees or higher.

2 years – 3 years
Routines are starting to dominate your life and you hold a steady job (maybe your 2nd though). Your are probably on your second apartment which has modern adult-like amenities such as a dishwasher and cabinets. Maybe even a kitchen table – but that may be a stretch. You are slowly starting to master this whole cooking thing, but you are still a master of the take out order – probably having discovered just when you have to order dinner to pick it up on your way home without breaking stride.
Your drinking days still number about 3 a week, but binge drinking isn’t so common anymore. Your start drinking the fancy drinks of those Madison Avenue snobs like Gin & Tonic or imported beer. Astonishingly you discover that wine is made by more than Pinto Grigio and Yellow Tail. Must be fancy French wine. You are the master of the Friday morning work hangover, knowing just what to do before bed and what breakfast to order so you don’t seem like a lush in front of the boss all the while laughing at the “kids” at work who just graduated and wreak of booze and cheap sex. Lounges slowly gain popularity as a Saturday night destination. College visits are rare – maybe 1-3 a year.

3 years – 4 years
WHHHAAT??? You are actually having discussions centered around politics, when you want to “buy” an apartment, and your 401K? Get the fuck out of here – you sound like my parents. Your living situation has vastly improved because you now have a parking space and are a regular at the local deli/coffee shop & gym because you are there every morning after the gym at 7? Damn you are getting up early. That’s ok – you go to bed at 10:00PM, eliminating all good TV programming from your life. You are probably in a “relationship” – one whose foundation isn’t from a kegger at your friend’s basement. You even have couple’s night – but don’t worry, you aren’t at “board game night” level just yet – but be careful Grandpa.
Binge drinking is all but gone from your weekly activities. However, you do go full force for St. Pats, Cino de Mayo and any other excuse to act like a college kid again. Don’t worry you haven’t regressed – its just some residual immaturity left over from college. Pubs and packed bars are juvenile to you and paying $9 for a flavored martini is classy. You will only go up to college for some networking or reunion type thing. Oh don’t worry – I didn’t forget about flip flops. They come out in the summer, but are no longer the staple choice for casual footwear.

4 years – 5 years
Why even bother at this point. If you haven’t bought an apartment/house you are definitely thinking about it. Hell, engagement or marriage is no longer something that is talked about abstractly. You ready for the “marriage circuit” in which you will attend 17 weddings in 4 years, and be a best man (1-2), in the wedding (3-4) and just a drunk attendee (the rest). You get lots of sleep, eat regular cooked meals and have some real responsibility at work – you may even manage someone! If you are a stand-up person, you mentor someone about the Friday morning hangover remedy. You can safely call yourself an adult and nobody laughs.
Drinking? What’s that? You don’t drink. You have cocktails and occasionally have one two many (which in your case in 4). Your tolerance drops to that of a high school sophomore. The plus side of this is that you are a cheap date, but dangerously close to being that drunk guy at the holidays and work functions if you have that extra martini. You only go to bars that have seats for everyone and collared shirts are the norm. College has become a distant memory – essentially as far away as 8th grade. Flip-flops (no I didn’t forget about them) are reserved only for the beach or “themed” BBQ’s which are lame but the only way adults can find excitement.

CONGRATS! – You are now an adult.

Disclaimer – this schedule/model doesn’t apply to everyone, but I am saying it applies to most people and I am the one writing this blog so I win but of course feel free to get drunk to disprove my theories.

Brrr…..Beer (yes I still drink beer)

Q&A: Beer, Women, Desert Islands & Penguins

Because I am still recovering from the alcohol induced/blackout weekend I have tapped into some outsiders to help with this next post. Older brother, aka Baseball Banker has agreed to interview me. I don’t know how this one will go, but I am bored and you are reading this, so you are too…

Who would win in a fight, a drunken polar bear of a rabid raccoon?
Fact – polar bears have a top sprinting speed of 25mph over short distances. However, rabid raccoons are fucking crazy. I once opened up a garbage can as a kid and a nutbag raccoon came flying at me. I threw a brick at is tale and it ran away. So therefore – I think I would win.

If you were marooned on an island can you please tell me the: (excellent use of the word marooned – a favorite of Bugs Bunny)
Woman you would want to take there?
Miranda Kerr or Stacy Kiebler (both of whose pictures I will use for no relevant reasons in coming weeks.)

The drink you would want to bring?
Yohoo – its not chocolate milk – but a chocolate drink which means it won’t go bad and it tastes sooooo good…I don’t know why its not that official drink of Zimbabwe

The board game you would want to bring?
Most people would say Monopoly. No way – I am going with Hungry Hungry Hippos despite not being a real board game – Hippos are very cool animals

The weapon of your choice?
A English broadsword – they are badass and completely useless on a desert island but cool to swing around

In what Olympic sport would a drunken polar bear best succeed?
Ski jumping – the kind where you go down the long slide – no need for skis and my weight will carry me way past everyone else

If you could have any job in the world what would it be?
Goalie for the NY Rangers – seriously who will shoot a puck past me – I AM FIERCE between the pipes

If you could switch lives with any person in the world who would it be?
The guy who gets to build all the big Lego models in stores, David Wright or Dierks Bentley

Is the drunken polar bear at all related to the polar bears on the Lost Island? If true do you have anything to do with the mysterious nature of the island.
They are my cousins and although I don’t watch the show they tell me they like to get drunk at night and fuck with the crazy people on the island. Don’t even get me started on the penguins…

If the drunken polar bear could cross-mate with any other species who would it be and why?
Perfection does not need to be messed with…how dare you!

While the polar bears and native to colder climates, how do you cope with the warmth of the New York Metropolitan area in the spring?
The same way humans deal with the ultra-cold weather. Alcohol in mass, mind-numbing quantities

How do you open beers with big paws?
My penguin sidekick Petey. Not only can he open a beer upside down, blindfolded, with one fin, but he knows Kung Fu

Please describe the qualities the drunken polar bear looks for in a mate.
Well I will have to answer this one in reference to the ideal Northeastern women – my apologies for the length, but as the concluding question a real DP-original answer is merited

Three Golden (Obvious) Rules
1.Can’t be stronger than me (I pretend to be strong)
2.Can’t be taller than me (I am decently tall)
3.Can’t have more facial hair than me

After that women are awarded “Bonus Points” on a sliding scale for all of the following:
-Looks – yes I am shallow, but I am not a charity
-Intelligence – dumb girls are like Netflix movies – you enjoy renting them for a couple days, but after a few days you want to send them back
-Sense of humor – mine is twisted and inane, but any kind is appreciated
-Blond Hair (although I don’t discriminated against other hair colors)
-Athletic but not enough to beat me in sports
-Ability to watch a sporting event on TV without commenting on the colors or cuteness of uniforms and knowing what team they are going to root for and why
-Ability to drink beer. Not binging drinking, but you gotta be able to have a Bud Light some days while relaxing and not drink fancy martinis all the time
-Ex dancers of any kind, except exotic. Flexibility is always appreciated…

Super Bonus Points – this are like deal clinchers
-She plays golf
-She knows who Erin Andrews is and understands why all men love her
-Jeans and a plain white t-shirt are part of your normal wardrobe
-You can bake sweet peanut-butter chocolate chip cookies (sexist I know, but who cares)
-She is an avid runner
-When you take her to a sporting event she makes an effort to wear a t-shirt, jersey or hat of your home team. Women pay special attention to this. This is the hottest you ever look to us even if you are all glammed up. Something about you rooting for our teams and in their apparel is ridiculously irresistible
-If you routinely wear a guys dress shirt and nothing else the night after a party or fancy event – its hot
-Most of all – A LOVE FOR BIG GOOFY ARTIC ANIMALS

Brr....beer

12 Drunken Hours

4 liters of water, 8 aspirin, 1 sandwich, & half a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch. That was my diet yesterday because my body was so physically destroyed from 12 hours of binge drinking…and maybe some other stuff

Alcoholism - A disease in which a person craves alcohol, is unable to limit his or her drinking, needs to drink greater amounts to get the same effect, and has withdrawal symptoms after stopping alcohol use. Alcoholism affects physical and mental health, and causes problems with family, friends and work.

Hahaha – by that definition everyone I drank with Saturday is an alcoholic. Who do these fancy medical folks think they are. And “causes problems with family, friends and work”??? Well see how my Saturday went and you can see I was probably the most amusing person in town.

Note: I am not correcting any spelling or filtering any of this story although, by my count, I committed at least 5 crimes.

Friday night: On my way home from work I decided to stop and grab a six-pack from the grocery store. It was after 7 so I didn’t think it would be that crowded. Holy crap was I wrong. It was like it was the end of the world and beer and alcohol were the only currency. The lines were so long and people didn’t just buy a six-pack and a bottle of whiskey. This was like bulk alcohol buying. Five 30 packs was not out of the question. Walking through the parking lot, I saw 4 guys load up their entire trunk (to the brim) with beer and Jack Daniels. This is going to be a good weekend.

12:30AM: I am about to go to bed, but am too excited to sleep. Its like Christmas eve….oh boy oh boy.

8:30AM: Awake and excited. It snowed last night, but that’s all gone. Time to eat a bagel for the debauchery begins.

9:09AM: And it starts…..having my first black and tan watching some cartoons. Sweet nectar of the Gods – whoever discovered this should be given a Nobel Prize.

11:14AM: Just did jello shot on top of a double jameson big irish coffee and a pint of guinness. Its early and i already know i will be drunk by one in the afternoon. Already i am thinking what girls would be morally casual oh yea I am going to be creepy today

11:48AM: About to do a car bomb which will officially make me drunk before noon. Fantastic. I love being irish and irish girls and everything bagels with butter….

1:00PM: Fully drunk now and making an ass of myself but the women here seem to find my idiocy amusing for some reason awesomeness is in my grasp – more booze is needed

1:15PM: I am officially drunk and am playing kings with fuckin Candy Land cards – that girl from candy land is hottttt - i wish she was real - that would be sweet - ahaha i made a pun

1:17PM: Girls yes plural think i am attractive for some reason oh my and booo yah

1:54PM: Where is that girl from beforree? She thought i was cute because I was givin away beeads

2:02PM: Def drunk and where the fuck did everyone go and where are the ladiea

3:22PM: Drunk drunk drunk drunk (on my way to a 2-kegger)

3:23PM: and hungry – I want an omlettte with snickers

NOTE: This is about the point when I got hammered and proceeded to try and pick up a girl and her sister at the same time. I thought it was going smoothly - not so as I work 15 feet from this girl and she recoutned it on Monday morning by asking if I remember what her sister looked like. The next few hours are shaky and there are no text messages, but through eyewitness accounts I know:

I met some girl named Mary
There are 3 new numbers in my phone
I had to erase my text message in-box so god knows what was in there
I played a drinking game where I was the guy drinking as much as possible
I made friends with a small old man in Dunkin Donuts because I bought him a bagel and coffee. He talked about life, I mumbled to myself about beer and cartoons

The text messages pick up again

7:11PM: Whjoa boy

7:13PM: Granyted i have missewd many emails but roick on

8:29PM: Pizzzzzzzzzzza whereee are u

That’s where the text messages stop, but Tuna Titan filled me in on the rest of the night. He videotaped my bouncing around the apartment from 10-11ish. If that tape every gets out, I can never run for any public office but it was fucking hilarious to watch the next morning because on the tape:

-I admit to being drunk and herbally intoxicated (I can go no further on that one) every 45 seconds
-I proceeded to curse at the TV, Tuna Titan (multiple times), the people across the street having a party, the Harp in my fridge, the lack of milk for cereal, and George Carlin
-I put on my customized Ranger’s Hockey jersey and running shorts
-I spilled a 1.5 liter bottle of water
-I threw my keys at a laptop computer
-I dance around the apartment like a jackass like a drunk monkey
-I air high-five the hallway
-And best of all, I try for 2 hours to eat Ellios pizza with the motor skills of a drunk chimpanzee – in no way succeeding to get the paper towels off the bottom of the pizza and dejectedly stop eating it

11:30AM: asleep on the couch

4:00AM: get up to go to bed. Two girls are sleeping in my bed. Tuna Titan leaves a note on the door to leave them alone. I go back to sleep on the couch

8:30AM Sunday: I awake forgetting most of what happened after 5:00PM and feel as nauseating wave rush over me ever time I move.

4:30PM Sunday: 8 hours later I get up off the couch

Needless to say, most people would regret drinking this much. I don’t and will be drinking in a similar manner in 2 weeks at another parade. I probably won’t drink enough to kill a family of squirrels, but I now know what my daytime drinking limit is….

Brrr…beer

Rock, Paper, Martini???

This special abbreviated blog is brought to you by the fact that I am dead tired at work. DP, why are you so tired? Well to get read for Saturday’s St. Pat’s festivities I decided to go out and have a couple of beers. A couple of beers turned into:

Entering an official Rock-Paper-Scissor tournament winning 5 straight matches (1 against Tuna Titan) and making it to the finals only to lose to a hot blond, who had to have some kind of ESP abilities because she killed me. I lost the chance to get a $50 iTunes card, but did get Myspaced/Facebook stalked by her friend first thing this morning – kinda creepy being I only told her my name (which is always spelled wrong) on my way out of the bar.

Entering another competition where two Absolut girls challenged you to create the best drink. Finally my time to shine. Here is what took the grand prize (of a medium t-shirt):

The Drunken Polar Bear Martini

Chilled Absolut Vanilla vodka
2 dashes of mint schnapps
1-2 dashed of blue Curacao
1 York Peppermint Patty

Frosty, minty and refreshing as the snow of the south pole…..yum

The night ended with some serious playing of Rock Band where I learned Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” is hard to play on the guitar…

Brrr…..Beer (or special DP martinis)

Blogging St. Pats

Well as you can see in my previous post - I love St. Patrick's day and I kick off the St. Patrick's season (which is 2-4 parades and lots of green) this Saturday with the Hoboken parade. Drinking will start when I roll out of bed and grab a Harp bottle from my fridge and go all day.

More out of my own curiousity and wanting to experiment I am going to record the entire day's events and compile it into one blog. No I am not going to walk around with a laptop or run back and forth between parties/bars and my apt. I am going to send hourly text messages to my email account. As I suspect I will be drunk for 12 hours this is going to be hilarious....

The over under on how many girls I offend is at 9, but I would love to take bets...

Thats a Kerry Gaelic football jersey - which I love and will be wearing all day.

Holiday Drinking Circuit

So I haven’t been keep up with my posting responsibility as of late so I have put the photo to the right to make up for it. That's Miranda Kerr - absolutely amazing – but I do have two reasons.
1. Work & School have been killing me lately (and no, I am not getting my grad degree in Marine Biology, but that would be cool)
2. A massive creative drought – no theories, weird curves, acronyms or stuff that got me thinking. I have learned in advertising that “all great ideas come in the shower or on the bus” – and I had an epiphany of ideas in the shower the other day which will fill the week…

So lets do some SAT work:

Group 1: Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, Independence Day
Group 2: Thanksgiving Eve, New Year’s, St Patrick’s Day, Cinco de Mayo

Now what’s the difference between the two groups? Obvious they are both lists of holidays, but they are different. How so DP? Well here we go on another theory…

The first group lists the tradition holidays that most everyone and kids enjoy, and for the majority of them kids get excited. Running down the stairs on Christmas or Easter morning, having a big dinner on Thanksgiving with everyone, or taking the long family vacation during the week of July 4th. All good times and the most popular holidays for the majority of Americans – except those in the 18 – 30 age range. They rock the second list of holidays.

The second list of holidays are what younger folks look forward to – not because they mean a day off of work (sometimes), but because they comprise the alcoholic holiday list – more appropriately named the Holiday Drinking Circuit (just think the classiness of the PGA tour mixed with booze of NASCAR). Just think about it. How excited are you when these holidays approach. You look forward to them more than Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter

Thanksgiving Eve: Come home see the family, eat a nice home-cooked meal, but the highlight of the night is heading out your hometown bar with similar friends who are coming home for the weekend. You run into everyone you went to school with, exes all the while trying to seem like you have made the best of yourself – best job, gf/bf etc etc. Meanwhile, everyone is getting slammed. A great night – biggest bar night in America and one you never miss.

New Years: Really don’t need much description here. You make New Year’s plans in September long before you even know where you are eating Thanksgiving. Never has so much pressure to have the most amazing night been put on one night – the second most prevalent single’s awareness night (after V-day) where heavy drinking slowly melts away the levels of uncomfortableness….Auld Lang Syne…

St. Patrick’s Day: In my opinion the best event in the “Holiday Drinking Race Circuit”. Now I am just about as American-born Irish possible, embracing Irish culture all year long – and I have no problem that everyone pretends to be Irish on St. Pats. The more the merrier. The highlight of St. Pats – the parades spread out through all of March. On each of these parade days, it is adult Christmas. Drinking starts earlier in the morning (even as early as 7AM at some parades) and all the 20’s year olds go to bed the Friday night before with the same excitement as little Johnny on Christmas eve – they can’t wait for morning to come because they go straight to hitting the bottle or beer can. Truly fantastic.

Cinco de Mayo: Never before have I seen such a non-American holiday embraced so much for two simple reasons – Corona & Margaritas. I tend to think that Jose Cuervo invented this holiday to boost sales, but regardless young folks pile in droves to bars that embrace some weak Mexican decorations or themes to entice everyone to drink tons. The best version I saw was girls in bikinis serving drinks all night. Cheap. Trashy. My kind of style.

So next time a holiday comes up – think which group it falls into and how much you will be drinking.

Bagels - Men vs. Women

Being a responsible one on this Saturday morning I got up early and went to the gym. This was more the result of my roommate going early and just catching a ride so I wouldn’t have to trek the mile to the gym in the snow. On the way home I stopped for bagels at my favorite deli. I am online behind this adorable little blond woman. She places her order:

“Could I get a sausage, egg and cheese on an everything bagel?” [in a bit of a southern, timid drawl]

Immediately I am in love because not only is that my de facto breakfast sandwich, but here is this little girl ordering a hearty breakfast. My hopes were immediately crushed when she continued her order:

“And a whole wheat bagel, scooped out, with low-fat vegetable cream cheese.”

Dammmmmnn. So the first order was for her boyfriend and the second order for her. Oh well. At least I will be getting some good bagels for breakfast. I get back in the car, talk to Tuna Titan and he brings up a good point. Why do women always order food that seems like it tastes like cardboard, while men really don’t care that much? Let me elaborate.

The southern bagel hottie essentially ordered a little whole wheat bagel with chemically altered vegetable-infused watery cream cheese. Although I am not a doctor, I have a pretty thorough background in the sciences and nutrition. Her order will only be moderately healthier than a regular bagel with cream cheese. Yet women (most, not all) continue to place orders like this is delis, dinners and fancy restaurants. Starbucks has even gone so far as to offer a skinny (diet) option to all of their fancy drinks. Why do they do this??? I really don’t know, but I guess it is like when guys who will be binging drinking all night drink Bud Light instead of Bud because it is healthier. It is really not healthier, but makes everyone feel better. Take a couple examples:

Deli Lunch
Guy: Ham & cheese with mayo, chips and a soda
Girl: Turkey, lettuce, honey mustard in a 7 grain pita with soy chips and a diet coke

Fast Food McDonalds
Guy: Big Mac value meal
Girl: Walnut & raisn salad with low-fat Italian dressing, yogurt and diet coke

Dinner (at an American/Pub restaurant)
Guy: Buffalo bites (appetizer), burger/sandwich, fries and a couple beers
Girls: Salad, some sort of low fat chicken breast or soup

NOTE: This is the case MOST of the time, not ALL of the time. There are always exceptions to the rule when guys order healthy. Even better is when a girl orders a full rack of ribs and a thick lager. However, most can agree this is the norm.

I don’t get why there is such disparity between the sexes. Men and women exercise about the same amount, and probably women exercise more as they get older. Men don’t burn that many more calories a day and aren’t generally fatter than women. It is a culinary anomaly that I have a brief theory about. Men eat burgers and all that crap, but generally eat normally/healthy when they aren’t out. I personally eat healthy 90% of the time when I am making my own food and stray when I go out, especially for Johnny Rockets. Women as a whole, seem to be much more self conscious about their body so they try and eat healthy all of the time. Trying to eat healthy 24/7 can’t be good for anyone mentally. It leads to binges of ice cream, chocolate, chips and martinis. I tried to give up alcohol for Lent last year and wound up going on a drunken parade the week Lent ended. The lesson from all of this – moderation. Have a bagel with normal cream cheese, just don’t have a burger every night.

Disclaimer: as a pretty dumb guy, I apologize to any and all women who think my assumptions are wrong. They can’t be that wrong though….

Animals and Advertising...

Quick shots/Hot Links – my magical formula for advertising. I work in advertising, but don’t create ads and never have so this formula isn’t from many years of expertise. Instead, this came to me because I am very goofy mid 20-something who is amused easily. Without further ado…

Let the Geico Gecko introduce the foundations of my theory:

To create the perfect TV commercial that will be remembered you need two of four things:

1. Funny children
2. Alcohol or clowns
3. Foreign accents
4. MOST IMPORTANT: Animals (preferably small talking animals)

Three cases to back up my theory:
#1 – e-Trade commercials - During the Super Bowl where the talking baby reveals he has done so well on the market using e-Trade that he can afford to have a clown on full-time stand by. Nothing beats the baby’s line – “I really underestimated the creepiness[of the clown]”

#2 – Any Geico lizard commercial. All of them are funny because the lizard is so nonchalantly speaking with a wonderful British accent. Among my favorites:

Free Pie & Chips – “It’s pie, with chips, for free!”

English Muffin – “They literally hand you a toasted muffin with butter and jam”
Honorable mention: Bridgestone screaming squirrel commercial and Aflac duck commercials

#3: Any Bud or Bud Light commercials. Consistently funny commercials:

Bud Light Swear Jar – No need to describe this one.
Bud Light – “Fetch Fergus"

Honorable mention: Brazillian Fighting Cockatoo

And the all time best commercials:
Geico lizard having a full conversation with a sea otter on display at a zoo who refuses to share his clams…fantastic.

Bud Light Squirrel – “Walter, watch my Bud Light”

Kinda makes everyone want a pet squirrel or talking gecko doesn’t it?

Brrr…beer.

Really? You are wearing that to the gym?

So everyone goes to the gym now and then. I personally belong to a New York Sports Club which is fantastic because they have tons of machines and TVs on all the cardio machines. Makes working out that much easier. But I am not writing about my love of mini televisions on top of treadmills. That is simply a given. I have a separate bone to pick on this stormy Monday…

I wake up early on this day off from work and figure I will head to my gym to get a good work out. After throwing on some old athletic shorts and a long sleeve Under Armour shirt I got running a race a while back, I am jogging the 1+ miles to my gym (it is so nice inside its worth the jog). Since most everyone else has off from work it’s kinda crowded at 10:30AM. A lot of people probably had the same idea as me in getting a workout in during the AM. But this morning, more than any other gym trip, I was so blown away by what some people wear to the gym.

I will acknowledge that I live in Hoboken, NJ where there tends to be a lot more NJ Italians (no offense to anyone), but this morning was just ridiculous. There I was in front of the dumbbells and there are surrounding me dressed like morons. Let me elaborate. I have shorts, sneakers and an old long sleeve shirt on. Nothing special. Now and then I will wear a sleeveless shirt when I go to the gym and readily admit that I check myself out when I do bicep curls – call it natural vanity of a pasty white kid. But the guys this morning were ridiculous. Abercrombie and Armani track pants – OK maybe not that bad. Track pants are track pants and comfortable nonetheless. But designer t-shirts that are 2 sizes two small with gold chains hanging from their neck? If not that, then pre-cut sleevless t-shirts from Abercrombie. Even more accentuated by those trendy military hats, sweat bands on each forearm, a cell phone clipped to the pants and the newest Ipod on a designer armband…absolutely ridiculous. Is this a gym or a runway during fashion week???

No one sweats so much lifting weights that they need armbands. And is 1 hour too long to go without having your cell phone handy?? Are the paparazzi coming to the gym, thus requiring the best of dressing?? Are clothes that meaningless to you that you wear Armani to the gym?? Most of all the irks me is that these gym fashionistas spend over an hour in the gym, but only do 3 or 4 exercises because the majority of their time is spent flirting with girls or bull-shitting with their buddies. Granted these goofballs pay the same monthly fee that I do and have equal right to work out, but for God’s sake – quite dressing like wannabe European models…you don’t look cool…you look like a jackass.

Post Script
Women are also prone to dressing like jackasses at the gym when they wear matching velvet tracksuits in pastel colors, hoop earrings, or too much makeup. It happens, but for the most part they dress the part and sometimes look damnn hot


Brrr….Beer

Country Music - Why Not??

Hope everyone enjoyed their V-Day, even though it was the first post-less day in a bit for the Drunk Polar Bear. Before we dive into the exciting topic of a country music I am proud to announce a Drunk Polar Bear first!:

Road-blogging! (no its not a dirty sexual act all you perverts). I am going to be spending the weekend in Philly with Tuna Titan, Trackpants & Trackpants’ lovely girlfriend Darling Doctor. As long as Trackpants allows me to commandeer his laptop for a bit on Saturday and Sunday I guarantee some very interesting, alcohol-fueled stories.

OK – so after about a week of thinking about it, its finally here. My first of many country music posts which an unexpected stream of good posts held up. Again I know what you are thinking:

“DP, what are your really going to tell us about country music?”
Probably nothing new, and I will have no new theories, acronyms of geometric curves. Just some straight shooting of opinions. However, I had the honor of speaking with Trackpants this afternoon and he told me to keep the posts a little shorter so I am going to give that a try.

“What kind of music do you like?”
“Everything but country music”

Why does everyone have to hate on country music? Country music is great. Like really great. I think everyone should understand it’s my favorite type of music. It tells actually stories that can be comical, upbeat, reflective or downright depressing. It is music with a message. I’ll share some favorites at the end of the post.

Country music isn’t the twangy, hillbilly, square dancing music anymore. It is mainstream, has a new modern spin, and is picking up momentum. Its’ women are beautiful (Faith Hill, Carrie Underwood, Kellie Pickler, Taylor Swift, Miranda Lambert, Danielle Peck…the list goes on) and the men are badass or laid back (Dierks Bentley, Gary Allan, Kenny Chesney, Toby Keith). They incorporate electric guitars or intimate solos. Their music videos are always fun to watch. It is a music that spans across genres.

And country concerts…OH MY GOD. I have been to country music concerts in Pennsylvania (NEPA & Philly), NY, NJ, and Iowa. Country music concerts are, in my opinion, an assembly of what is most perfect and god-given in the universe:

All-day tailgating
Good old American beer and food
Great Music
Nice, courteous drunk people

And…the most wonderful thing in the world – young women geared out in the country getup. Brown boots, short short short denim skirt, halter top/tiny t-shirt and a straw hat. Bud Light in their hand, smile on their face, and a bit of an southern accent in their voice. Perfection at its highest. It’s like God molded the perfect woman, and told her country music is the path to salvation. I agree God. Big props to you for sending this lovely class of women down to us. I am sure these women could bring about world peace if they really wanted to. No one every turns them down. I am surprised the UN hasn’t started recruiting these young ladies.

__________________________________________
And a special treat…a look into some great country songs…

Classics
Any Johnny Cash Song – but does any one song stick out more than “Folsom Prison Blues”. It was recorded in goddam Folsom and you can hear the inmates cheer as Cash gets them stirred up.

The very famous George Straight song “All My Exes Live in Texas” is fantastic because he hangs his hat in Tennessee…

Kenny Chesney’s (who I have seen 3 times) great midwestern sex song – “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy” – I don’t have to say anymore about that.

Brooke & Dunn’s “Believe” If that song doesn’t touch your soul even a little bit, you aren’t human at all…

Angry Women Category
Miranda Lambert’s multiple angry girl/explosion songs – “Kerosene” (she burns a guys house down for cheating on her) & “Gunpowder & Lead” (Arson wasn’t enough, now she is turning to explosions and bullets)

Although it went ultra-pop, Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” is a very clear warning to men not to cheat on girls who own Louisville sluggers, especially if you own a Red Pickup truck. On her new CD, Underwood matches this song with a new one – “My Last Name” which basically recaps a night in which she got hammered, met a guy and got married in Vegas and of course doesn’t know her new last name.

Gretchen Wilson just has too many songs in this category to name, but she is pretty badass.

Personal Fav’s/New Classics
Miranda Lambert, Chesney, & Underwood make this category easily, but why not add some more.

Anything by Sugarland – even before they became Sugarland and it was just the lead singer, Jennifer Nettles. She is the most amazing vocalist, songwriter, female musician I have seen in my lifetime hands down. They are just unstoppable.

Dierks Bentley became famous with “What Was I Thinking” – the instant classic tune of what a hot girl in a tight white tank top can make a man do. This is also a personal favorite to sing karaoke too. Trackpants can vouch for this because we have rocked it out on several occasions to this song. If you have the chace also check out “Long Trip Alone”, “Trying to Stop Your Leaving” & “Settle for a Slowdown” – absolutely fantastic.

Anything by Gary Allan – despite not fitting the country mold he writes some great songs. (He is from Bakersfield California, has at least 10 tattoos and has had mounds of troubles in his life)

Brr…..Beer

What Flavor of Valentine's Day Are You?

A Drunken Polar Bear first – blogging from work. Not too risky if you are sitting at your desk, cubicle or tucked away in an office. Maybe less risky if you are in a meeting/conference room pretending to reply to emails on your laptop. But that would be too safe for the drunken polar bear. I am sitting at one of the coffee bars we have at work. Yes – we have coffee bars, and this particular one is equipped with two fancy Swiss super coffee machines that rival the Starbucks selling capabilities. What’s even better about this particular post is that I am furiously typing on a memo template so it looks like I am deep in the throws of an important argument. Little do they know…

(I was initially planning on writing a blog about my love of country music especially because I finally got the new (or somewhat new) Dierks Bentley album and it is amazing with two songs that are some of the best I have heard in years. However, in the spirit of Valentine’s day why not write of the lovely single’s awareness holiday.)

But why Drunken Polar Bear would you dare to sit in a public space while writing a post. One reason – Valentine’s grams. Yea – like the kind you bought and sent in grammar school. We are selling them at work, proving even further my previous post – I work in a high school. I am selling them as party of a charity thing we are doing here at work to raise money for heart health. Yes – every now and then I am altruistic and want to promote good health and raise money for charity. Plus it makes me look real good.

So having Valentine grams at work adds a completely whole new aspect to Valentine’s Day because maybe some work crushes or scandals will be revealed. Even better is that I get to deliver some of them and uncover some really good gossip. Gossip is always fun in any company, but here at my job it is like cigarettes in prison. Like the Marlboro Red’s that 8-finger’s Eddie still can’t managed to sneak into the joint despite greasing 5 guards and a truck driver. Gossip opens doors and get stuff done. You know some good gossip you can easily trade it for favors from other departments. And in advertising favors are huge. Last minute deadlines for ads or commercials spots? Need people to stay late to finish a project? Call in the favors. Want to talk to one of the partners – all they want to hear about is the gossip. Gossip makes the world go round. And a quick point of clarification – I am not talking about the kind of gossip where Mike has a crush on Ann. I am talking about Mike having an affair with Ann who is married, yet Mike is also going at it with the new receptionist, Tammy. This is the good stuff. When I deliver all these Valentine’s Grams I will be the “richest” guy at work and everyone will owe me favors to want to hear the gossip or keep their latest indiscretions quiet. But enough about work – I did that thing yesterday.

Valentine’s day is like Neapolitan ice cream (you know the kind with vanilla, chocolate & strawberry flavors – you used to probably eat it a lot as a kid). Another radical/weird/fun analogy DP? How are you going to pull this one off – just keep reading:

Valentine’s Day – Strawberry Flavor
Strawberry is the sweetest of the three flavors. It is also a pinkest and some people might call this the cutest. Strawberry flavor Valentine’s day is for all those lovers out there. You have a boyfriend/girlfriend, fiancé or spouse AND you are looking forward to showing your love to them by getting gifts, taking them to dinner and being romantic. You are the people Hallmark targets when they make all the cards and those dancing animals (who are pretty funny this year). Restaurants and florists bank on you to rake in the big bucks after an abysmal January. The extreme lovers out there may even propose marriage or profess undying love in the form of lots of gold/diamonds or whisk their lovers away to exotic locales. Most likely you will make you co-workers jealous both Valentine’s day and the day after because they will hear of the grandiose plans you have. Also they secretly know you are going to have some great V-day sex that night that is 100% guaranteed and to be top 5 sex of the year. Everyone has had at least one strawberry flavor V-Day (including myself). Most often it is in the first years of a relationship or in your teens when puppy love attacks you like a virus.

Valentine’s Day – Vanilla Flavor
Vanilla is the most common, most chosen of the three flavors. It is a default flavor and everyone can fall back on. It is still sweet, but the blandest of the ice cream flavors. Vanilla flavored V-Day is much the same. It is the most common V-Day experience for the masses. You have a significant other, but it has been for a while so V-Day has lost is luster and excitement. As V-Day approaches, you know what to do because you are a seasoned pro. You run through your personal checklist:

Dinner reservations someplace classy – check
Card, Flower & Chocolate – check
Gift that shows a modicum of thought – check

Well you are all done then. Sit back and watch some TV or read a magazine. You have done everything that is minimally required for V-Day. Like the strawberry flavored individual, you too have a 100% guarantee of sex, but this sex will only be slightly more exciting that your normal weekly coitus. Some lingerie or candles might be involved, but it won’t go beyond that. Overall, V-Day is just another stop on the holiday train for you. Next stop – St. Patrick’s Day! Chooo Chooo!!

Valentine’s Day – Chocolate Flavor
Ah – the last of the boldest of the three flavors. Some say chocolate is for lovers. I say it is for the lovers of life, love, and randomness. Chocolate flavored V-day is for all those without an official valentine. You may not be serious yet with the bf/gf or may just be rocking the bachelor/bachelorette lifestyle. However you slice it, V-day is different for you and unlike the previous two flavors, your V-day experience can take on all shapes and sizes. Some people choose to ignore it and treat it like any other day doing their normal 9-5 shuffle. Other’s express their resentment for not having a valentine by grouping up and heading out to a restaurant or bar to proclaim they don’t need a man/women to make them happen (this is most often the chosen action for groups of women as they dub it a “girl’s night”). Finally, there are those devilish people who acknowledge V-day is single’s awareness day and flock to the bars in mass number plotting to seduce and prey on those weak, innocent, lonely valentine-less (this is almost entirely the case for men). From what I have seen, V-day is right up there with picking up single women at weddings. It’s just too easy and the results are almost entirely bad. I would issue a warning to women, but it won’t do any good – V-day’s powers are just too strong. Overall, the chocolate flavor V-day group has the cheapest, most independent V-day BUT it can also be the most risky.

Well that’s it – the three flavors of V-day according the Drunken Polar Bear. I have sold many Valentine’s grams sitting at this coffee bar so now it’s back to do some actually work, but first one question I know is on all your minds:

“Drunken Polar Bear – what flavor are you this V-Day?”
“Mint-Chocolate Chip with Resses Pieces blended in” – HAHAHAHA

Brrrr…..Beer

Snow Day!

Well folks - its Tuesday and today I may stray from the normal drunken stories to offer commentary on a couple of things I thought of today. Snow. Yea - its snowing a lot right now. The weatherman/hot weather woman said it would be an inch or a dusting so I figured I would be fine when I was coming home from work tonight. I leave work, ride the subway and get on the bus no problems. I get off the bus and holy shit - its like 4 inches of snow and coming down like whoa - like Canadian snow (which falls harder and faster because its angry that in Canada where the only good things are hockey and beer). My nice leather shoes got wet, but it was kinda cool out. But this got me thinking of what you do when it snows.

When you are a kid, snow becomes a mystical force that brings with it snow days - the most holy and precious of unexpected days off. The night before a potential snow day you go to bed with the same excitement of Christmas Eve thinking that Mother Nature will dump some of the white stuff and school will be cancelled. You look out your window when you go to bed ever 5 minutes for snow, but nothing comes. You finally fall asleep, wake up, look out the window and BOOOO YAAAAA! There is a lot of snow, but is school cancelled?? You bolt down the stairs, hopping over dogs and Legos (at least thats what we had as kids) to greet Mom and Dad with such eagerness and hope. SCHOOL IS CANCELLED!. Snow day and its great. You build snow forts, sled, or if you are budding entrepreneur like me and my two brothers (Baseball Banker & CT Cracker) you shoveled driveways for money. When the day was over you came in for hot chocolate and TV. It was an awesome time.

When you are in college, snow days are as rare as good looking sophomore year virgins. Everyone lives on campus, thus it has to snow a hell of a lot for it to be cancelled. When God drops a shitload of snow on the campus, and the announcement of classes cancelled goes out via email, there is a mad dash - not for milk, bread or shovels, but to the nearest beer distributor to grab kegs. Its a dash to the distributor because they normally don't carry the required 75 kegs for a snow day...on a Tuesday morning and thus we have snow kegs. Snow kegs are f'ing awesome because everyone drops whatever they were doing and starts boozing. Libraries and classrooms empty out instantly. Everyone runs home to drop off whatever they have and run outside to play with the same excitement as little kids. Except this is adult playtime. If there is enough snow, the kegs are brought outside (a backyard, porch, or hell - even the front lawn) and packed up to the rim in snow, making them ice cold enough to be in a Coors Light commercial. Drinking starts as people don all kinds of hats, scarfs, gloves and ski attire. A couple hours in, snowball fights break out, and people start mattress sledding (which should easily be considered a sport, especially when you are riding a Sealy Posturepedic). Beer provides magic superpowers making all those who imbibe it immune to the subzero temperature and injuries from falling on ice. The one thing that will never happen is girls walking around in bikinis like in the Coors Light commercial. First off - its cold and girls don't want to be cold. Second - girls that hot only exist in commercials, not in real life. Snow kegs are truly excellent and I miss them very much, especially today.

In the pre-marriage, adult world, snow is not met with any real particular response. You wish for a day off from work, but don't really get your hopes up, instead choosing to leave early to avoid bad traffic. Horrible ugly boots are thrown on to compliment the same grey peacoat that everyone else has. Its just fucking uneventful and I have an idea to change that. Now this idea can only really apply to those who take public transportation to work (ie: NYC) because - surprise - it involves booze. And thus the idea:

Snow Sloshed Sluttiness (SSS)

It's 12:27 at work and snow is falling very heavily. You keep hitting the refresh button on your email, praying the higher ups have decided to pack it in and head home. They have already left to go home but send the email from their Blackberry. FINALLY! It comes and work is cancelled. In a normal world, you would get all geared up to brave the elements, head home, and curl up on the couch to watch movies all day. Blockbuster loves these days, but its time to man up. Hell - you aren't old yet. So instead you decide to embrace Snow Sloshed Sluttiness (SSS) which has 5 defining principles/steps:

- Go to a bar in walking distance
- Get drunk by any means possible (I recomend whiskey)
- Think you a drunk, get drunker just to make sure
- Find an attractive member of the opposite sex - make sure they are drunk
- Use bad pick up line, take said person home and go at it like rabbits

This may sound like your normal bar mating fance, but you must keep in mind one key fact. Work has been cancelled, most everything has been shut down as the city prepares to weather the storm. 95% of the storms are mild, but storms bring about a survival instinct somewhat similar to what you see in the movies like Armageddon, The Day After Tomorrow, Deep Impact, etc. Survival instinct is about food, clothing and procreation. You have food at the bar, clothing on your backs, and thus procreation is the only way to complete the trifecta. Procreation is easily facilitated by bars and alcohol. Thus the SSS theory plays on the drive towards procreation when a big snow storm hits. It easily puts everyone a six pack in and allows for so much moral casualness and 9 months from the snow storm produces some scandalous snow babies. My question is, why aren't you in a bar right now?

So next time you get hit by a snow storm, don't be old and go home hit the bar and be inappropriate. It what you must do to survive!

Brrr.....Beer....Brrr (its extra cold today)

An Office or a High School?

Great picture right??? HAHAHA

OK…so today was a long day at work. A real long day at work – like 13 hours with the only highlight being the comfy car ride home (we get car service if we work after 9 which is door to door). Today was one of the four days a year I have to balance to the books for my department. This isn’t hard because Excel has become so advanced, monkeys can do accounting – its just fucking tedious and my monkey, Marv, is on vacation in the Swiss Alps. So as I sit here reading emails from today and sipping on a lovely single malt scotch that was a Christmas present, I am inspired to put up my first post about work. As its late, and I can’t sleep for some reason – my apologies for the language in advance…hahaha

I work in NYC at an advertising firm. NYC advertising firms are an interesting environment. You often see them portrayed in movies/TV like Mad Men (awesome) and the countless movies that have the main character as a marketer. Each TV show/film has their own interpretation of the typical advertising office. Since I am not a film director or TV producer (thank god the strike is over!), this blog is my only avenue to portray my vision of the NYC ad firm. Essentially I work in an alcohol fueled, sex-driven, high school that doubles as a highly respectable advertising firm. There is nothing wrong with this. I love my job, the place & the people, but am just saying that there is more than meets the eye (much like Transformers).

A high school you say DP? Yup. We have all the critical elements of a high school – sports teams, clicks, gossip, prom, spring fling, but with a lot more booze. Now you can easily say that all offices have this and some do, but not to the level of maturity we do.

Sports Teams
Like a High School - Football, Softball, Soccer, Volleyball, Running. Not a full high school varsity, but impressive with nice jerseys, practices, games and all that jazz.

Chaotic side – there is drinking before games, during games, and of course after games. I have spent many a summer evenings patrolling center field with a Guinness can in my hand. It tastes great, but running with it is tough, not to mention the 95-degree weather. And that’s only warm ups. Try drinking a beer perinning in that heat. Doesn’t sound fun, but think of it like an athletic event. And the bar after the game…oh boy. The only time you are ridiculed (including the game), for not bringing your best is the bar after the game. You take more than 2 flips during a 10 person/side flip cup game and you gone quicker than a high school girl and a box of Franzia (yes I know which boxed wines are the worst). Eat less than 15 wings and you are instantly a pussy and relegated to levels lower than the ugly intern. At the end of the night, and yes you must make it several hours, co-mingling with other player’s teams is encouraged. It’s almost like a forced marriage is some far eastern country. You can give them all the secrets about your lineup or steal signs, but say a word about your work and you are toast. You fail to score with a member from an opposite team a couple weeks in a row and you are riding the pine no matter how far you can hit a softball. ABC – Always Be Closing.

Clicks
Like a High School – We got them. Jocks (most of the people from above), Nerds, quiet kids, artsy/weird kids, overachievers, mean girls…

Chaotic side – clicks at work are so much more fun to watch. Not in a cool click at work? Nowhere near the problem of a high school clickless-existence. The true gem happens when you have turf wars – two clicks going against each other. It’s a cross between Office Space & Gangs of New York. Imagine this scenario – the nerds versus the mean girls. A nice guy from IT politely asks a tall, leggy blond from marketing is she wants to grab drinks after work. She laughs in his face – in the hallway – of the main lobby. And then its on – like Donkey Kong – in the Viet Cong. Warfare takes place at work where your income and livelihood are very dependent on your behavior. It is the ultimate practice of stealth. I don’t know why more marine covert ops soldiers aren’t recruited from our halls, but all the better. Turf wars are fun to watch, but if you are caught in one its fucking scary. The mean girls lack the normal creative side and launch a simple gossip and smear campaign trying to discredit the nerds. They don’t give a fuck because they own the company’s electronics. They can read your emails (yes – yours too!), check what websites you have been browsing (all that downloaded porn???), lock you out of things, and even send emails from you account. Next thing you know, your boss is wondering why you sent him a nasty email because he didn’t approve your $500 expense report for the “happy ending” when you took your client out to lunch – at a lovely Asian bistro….Fucking awesome.

Spring Fling/Prom
Like a high school – simple we have them except prom becomes a winter black tie party and spring fling is a summer party. Good times, all sponsored by the company.

Chaotic side – Alcohol. Need I say more??? You all understand. For the black tie event, the company lets everyone stop working at 2:00PM. The guys go to a bar or nearby apartment to get ready. This consists of 4 hours of drinking, bragging who they are going to slam that night (including the hottie from reception who has said hi to you everyday – what a naïve bastard!) and how no one will know. Yea – we are definitely going to get back to that one. The women go off and get their hair done, nails buffed, and all pieces of their body waxed – Brazilian wax ladies??? The sexes meet their dates prior to the party for a proper drink at a pre-determined cocktail party or bar choosing to have at least one drink while sober and speaking clearly to one another. On to the party – now this could be another post all together so I will keep it short. The party is basically a cycle of walking to the bar, stopping along the way to say hi to work colleagues, walking back, saying more hellos and then having to do it all together again. The smart ones pick a spot close to the bar, but don’t go crazy. You don’t want to be the first drunk one at the party. That guy/girl is always the first one talked about the next day not because they were drunk, but because they are a 4-beer-queer. The party gets more alcoholic and conversations get loaded with sexual innuendos. Steve in accounting is going to “run reports all over Jenny in HR”. Its fantastic. Party’s over and everyone heads to the after-party at a local bear. Lots of grinding and dancing. Debbie from accounting, who is quiet as a church mouse during the day, looks like she is going to show you the right way to do Dallas….except Dallas has become Mike from Marketing who has the biggest shit-eating grin ever. The night ends and everyone picks the closest available single member of the opposite sex to make a play at. Bad decisions are made all around and yet another company party is in the books. WAIT ITS NOT OVER! But, oh how I cherish the next morning. Everyone is hung-over and looks like shit, most people have found the common sense to make it home or at least shower and change clothes. There are a couple dumbasses/sluts who don’t change instead thinking if they tuck it all in and wet their hair no one will notice. EVERYONE NOTICES! When do you ever wear a tux to work on a Friday or decide a silver gown is ok for casual day? Even worse are those employees who decided to buy new clothes because they obviously didn’t sleep at home, but buy it out of the package with perfectly square packing wrinkles….The summer party is essentially the same, with less clothing and a whole lot of flashing. God bless strapless halter tops and morally casual women…your mother’s raised you just right.

Yea – we could make comparisons for hours, but who wants to read for hours. I am finally tired, having finished my scotch. I leave you with one bit of advice – morning staff meetings are always made better when you coffee of the Irish variety…

Brr…..beer.