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We are still alive!!! Despite a prolonged absence, we are alive and well. It takes a lot of work to keep our fans entertained, and to be honest, we are the laziest fuckers you will ever meet. That, and the fact that we have 3 members who are retarded and only 2 who are functionally literate, and you can see how this is such a chore. We are basically no smarter than a hoard of howler monkeys

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Irish Eyes a' Smilin Part 2



St Patrick's Day was once again upon the wee lads of the BC4M, except this year was exceptionally special for our queen of merchandising, otherwise known as Fred's better half, Darby O'Hooterhan. It seems that a mere 40 years prior, the heavens opened up and delivered the world a bouncing baby Darby complete with a pint of Guinness in one hand and a fifth of Jameson's in the other. Half Irish and half German, but 100% full of sass, the entire neighborhood gathered to help celebrate our Irish princess's much anticipated milestone. All of the BC4M were present with the exception of Snake, who was down in Ft. Liquordale, Florida scouting the local talent to replace his recently retired "personal assistant"; Bim, who was the keynote speaker at an animal husbandry convention in DC; and D-Rail, who found himself playing the dual roles of bartender/wedding singer at a "civil union" ceremony in New Hampshire. The theme of the night was an Irish murder mystery dinner, and both Darby and her fashionista sidekick Tabletop Tessa had spent countless hours transforming Flintstone Manor's dining room into a authentic Irish pub. The entire neighborhood pitched in with incredible food to go alongside the endless supply of booze that included kegs of Left Hand Milk Stout and the newest creation from the boys at Beach Brewing, a green eyed monster called Sirena Verdi. All the attendees had character assignments and most came dressed in costume including Crazy Ken looking like a grown up Raggedy Andy doll, while J. Wilder, always with the flair for the dramatic, came dressed as Aiden Sweeny, one half of former world champion Irish skateboard/wrestling tag team the "Dynamic Dudes". Armed with a box full of highlight dvd's (yours for the low low price of 19 Euros), he spent most of the night uttering his classic line, "Taking this shit global bitches". Just as the party was getting started, in walked in the surprise of the night. It seems that the fellas at Beach Brewing along with their wives, masquerade on weekends as a mystery solving outfit known as the "Legion of Hooligans". Usually found at ren faires, furry conventions or the occasional bar mitsvah, the team came dressed in full regalia and were primed to solve the murder. Led by their STD spreading leader, Dr. Firecrotch along with his vixenish bride PMS Avenger, the group also included a Blue Man Group dropout called The Green Shillelagh and his warrior wife Pug Mahone as well as the duo of Batguy? and his better half, Ilsa the Shrieking Banshee. As soon as they came in the front door, Ilsa shrieked, "No doubt that pole smoking motherfucker did it" as she pointed at 10pm who was dressed as the decidedly flamboyant choreographer Timmy Tunes. "Easy there little lady, the mystery dinner hasn't even started" said Fred, to which Ilsa snapped back, "Shut the fuck up Flintstone before I skull fuck you with my boots". "Don't mind her" said Batguy?, who added, "She does that to me at least 4 times a week". "Now that's my kind of classy dame" said Frank the Tank as he saw Ilsa stick out a tongue that would make Gene Simmons's of KISS quiver in fear. While we mingled and stuffed ourselves with the traditional Irish feast, we got our first taste of Beach Brewing Sirena Verdi (8.88%). Starting off with a base of their incredibly tasty double IPA Hoptopus, the boys then, according to assistant to the regional manager Chicago Mike, "dry hopped the fuck out of it" before finishing it off with a generous amount of green pond scum. Hoppy and full of flavor and remarkably smooth, this is one easy drinking ass kicker. Even Crazy Ken, who isn't a fan of the IPA's remarked, "umm, this is pretty damn good" while 10pm, quickly added, "I like it" after one sip. We all agreed it rated a really good. While we continued with the party gathering clues and the drinking, we had a haiku contest that was judged via telecom by BC4M 8th degree Master Haikuist Bim, who while in the midst of lecturing a group of Scandinavians on the joys of doggy style, declared the following Pulitzer Prize winning submission from Dr Firecrotch and PMS Avenger the champion:

                                            Playing scrabble with
                                            A retard is more fun than
                                            Fucking your fat mom.


"Damn, that's some kind of romantic poetry ain't it" said a heading toward inebriated Frank the Tank. By this time, another round of clues had been passed around, and Ilsa hopped on the bar and shrieked, "That devil woman with the knife over there did it" as she pointed towards Franks better half and the actual "murder victim" Sofia del Fuego. "She's the VICTIM, hence the knife in her BACK" said a sarcastic Fred, to which Ilsa tartly responded, "Motherfucker I will cut a bitch if you don't shut your fucking face". Frank the Tank simply smiled and said "What a woman, What a woman I tell ya". By this time, our resident photographer, Pera Honeydews was busily filling up a 50 gig flash card full with almost every shot featuring a photo bomb by the Green Shillelagh who by this time was offering any taker a free ride on his "wooden staff". The third and final round of the mystery was then presented and after each person read a statement claiming why they should have killed our victim by in fact hadn't, it wasn't until the final card admitting guilt that was read by none other than Fred, that Ilsa who had passed out earlier but had gotten a second wind after shotgunning 3 Red Bulls, screamed, "He fucking did it", while pointing at Fred. "Check out the big brain on Ilsa" said OMT's better half Martha Stewart, only to have Ilsa snap back, "Watch it bitch, or you're next!" "Damn, I love me a good cat fight" said a delighted Frank, "reminds me of those nights back in Subic Bay". Thankfully before any nails were embedded in opposing flesh, we calmed the ladies down and celebrated the fact that the only person who guessed the murderer correctly was in fact our own 10pm. We then decided to crack open a few beers to end the night. We started with our second tasting of Brewdog Sink the Bismarck which we had previously loved. This time the flavor reminded Fred of "Tastes like a liquefied bottle of Comet powder." Assaulting both our tongues and our sinus cavities with a fiery dose of pain, we had to pour out most of the bottle although Frank the Tank downed 4 shots of it and remarked, "Not bad!" We then opened a Half Acre Big Hugs (9.5%), a solid, dark as mahogany stout that was full bodied and filled with chocolate notes. Next we tried a Goose Island Bramble Rye Bourbon County Stout (12.70%). Like its RFG rated cousins, this one didn't disappoint. Full of sweet blackberry and raspberry flavors, the bourbon barrel added a perfect compliment to the taste with overpowering the base beer. "That shit is fucking amazing" said J. Wilder, while Tank simply grinned and added, "This is so so good". Another RFG added to the stable, we then spent the rest of the night toasting our Beach Brewing mates with rounds of previously RFG rated Bruery Melange #3, Black Tuesday, Firestone Walker 15th, Sucuba, Pelican Stormwatcher and Mother of All Storms. After downing all those high octane beers, we bid our crime fighting team a drunken adieu and stumbled back to our abodes. Another successful night and a thoroughly touched ("that's what she said") Darby had a marvelous birthday. Remember kids, when ever you need a good time, just call up the Hooligans and prepare to be insulted.   Until next time bitches Slainte

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Seriously, this is the funniest crap you could come up with? Maybe you douche canoes should have stayed out of business.

Obamasucks said...

The Irish are a bunch of drunks. Are entire race of worthless handhumpers.