Monday, January 26, 2009 by Myke.

Grandpa Helm, you were there when I was little when I did not know wrong from right and you always steered me correct.  I still made mistakes in my life but never once could you be at fault.  I remember one thing you told me when I was little, “Michael, when you make a mistake and you will, stand up and stand tall and let everyone know it was your fault.  A man is based off of the great things he has done and the not so great he has admitted to.  A man who hides behind a lie is not a man at all.”  You are so correct Grandpa I just wish I could have told you this.  Instead I have to pray you can hear me now when I say, “I love you Grandpa and you were always right”.  You always made me laugh with your funny “old guy” jokes and I was always amazed at your boxing tales of glory.  I will forever tell everyone that my boxing/fighting skills came from a  great man who fought for this great nation and his family.  You always showed me the love I deserved even if I did wrong.  I never got to spend the time with you like I wanted and for that I am sorry.  You never got to meet my children or my wife and for that I am sorry.  I will pass your stories and jokes along and I will teach my kids what you taught me.  I am sorry Grandpa.  These tears are for you as you pass along and they are also tears of joy as I know in my heart you are going to place of peace.  I want you to know Grandpa that I became a great father and husband and I have you to thank for that.  I always put my family and friends before myself and I have you to thank for that.  You taught me some of the greatest things and I can only hope that I can pass such things along like you did to me.  I love you Grandpa.  Goodbye.

Howard Helm passed away today, January 26th of 2009.  He lived an amazing and long life and I hope that one day my grand-child can say the same things about me.

How do I say goodbye to what we had?
The good times that made us laugh
Outweigh the bad.

I thought we’d get to see forever
But forever’s gone away
It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

I don’t know where this road
Is going to lead
All I know is where we’ve been
And what we’ve been through.

If we get to see tomorrow
I hope it’s worth all the wait
It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

And I’ll take with me the memories
To be my sunshine after the rain
It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

And I’ll take with me the memories
To be my sunshine after the rain
It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.

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Sunday, January 25, 2009 by Myke.

We have all heard of the Bloods and Crips and how they used to be a huge gang network.  They would rule by fear, murder and mayhem.  Have you ever seen the videos where they are throwing up signs and moving as if there was a higher power controlling them?  They seem to be moving and grooving to some music but we never hear it.  Well thanks to the crack reporting team here we have discovered the truth behind the madness.

Posted in Funny | Print | No Comments »

Wednesday, January 21, 2009 by Myke.

Today Rush Limbaugh declared this in regards to President Obama.  He said he does not need 400 words to talk about Obama, but rather 4 words.  “I hope he fails”  Now let me be very clear here.  I do not support any political party, I tend to vote for the one that makes the most sense and is the least of the idiot.  Last year was easy, Obama was a much better candidate than McCain.  I am sorry but I do not need someone who is that old, that dumb and is way too much like De De De Bush.  We have had to deal with dumb-ass for 8 years and honestly, enough is enough.  We do need a change but it needs to be done correctly.  Oh yeah, for those of you who think that Obama can change the country overnight, he cannot.  It will take years of change to make a difference.  Give him some time and we will see what happens.

Okay enough blah blah blah already, let’s get back to dumb-ass Limbaugh.  To say that you hope he fails is to say you hope that the country fails further than we already are.  I have 4 words for you dipsh**…SHUT THE F**K UP!  We have all heard enough of your retardation and honestly it is getting out of control.  I mean come on, at least Howard Stern talks about sex, drugs and porn…you talk about how you would be so perfect at running this country.  Why not pop some more pills and roll over and die already?!?

Sorry about that folks…but some people are just born to ride the short bus…others pop so many prescription pills they become the short bus driver.

p.s.  I was sent a picture today and it kind of fits this post so I thought I would add it.  Some President Obama supporters were out cheering and praising his election on MLK day (to others it is Robert E Lee Day - tag for Travis) and had signs to support Dr MLK and show how they feel that Obama will make a change.  Folks, if you want to be seen and heard…you did it.  Man I am proud of our education system these days. 

Posted in Rant | Print | 1 Comment »

Wednesday, January 21, 2009 by Myke.

Okay, so maybe they did not sue the pants off, they were already off, but they are suing an Austin strip club for hosting “Stripper Idol”.  :-)  Sorry I find that very amusing.  My guess would be that “Flame Job” Seacrest is mad because it involves women and not men.  I am sure that if it would have been men stripping down to their man parts, he would be all over it…and I mean all over it.

FremantleMedia North America, which owns the popular TV show, says the contest is a trademark violation that could mislead the public to think the show sponsors the event, The Dallas Morning News reported in Tuesday editions. The company has filed a lawsuit in federal court to stop the weekly contest. - I am sorry, but women striping versus dumb-asses singing like drunk monkeys drowning is not the same at all.  Yes, some folks on the show sing well, but the actual show lives off of the fact that they get these idiots to sing and embarrass themselves.  If I see a sign that says ‘Stripper Idol’ I would never think to myself, “Hey, so they have to sing and strip at the same time and Randy, Paula and Simon…and that new chick get to judge them on live TV”.

Managers of the Palazio Men’s Club in Austin say the contest doesn’t resemble the TV show, and they don’t plan to end the Thursday night strip-off. - Good for you my man.  “Let them strip, let them strip”

“Stripper Idol” contestants have 60 seconds to dance topless, then are ranked by audience applause to win $500. - I can only imagine this in my head right now…mmmmmmmmm…hehe…very nice…ahhhhhhhhh yes…

Club managers say the contest is in its 12th week and is growing in popularity.- And with the help of the monkey Myke Reinhold…Internet fame baby!

To the folks at FremantleMedia North America, get over yourselves already.  You do not own the word ‘idol’ and you never will.  I am actually surprised you have not sued the Indian Jones folks for using ‘idols’ in their movies over the years.  Please pull your head 100% out of your ass, not just half-way.

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Friday, January 16, 2009 by Myke.

So I was passed a video while I have been “Down with the Sickness” and it actually made me laugh.  This chick has a great recap of all three original movies.  I just love the part where she refers to Han Solo as Hans.  Great job on the video but even better job with the recap.

Star Wars: Retold (by someone who hasn’t seen it) from Joe Nicolosi on Vimeo.

Posted in Music/Movie, Funny | Print | No Comments »

Wednesday, January 7, 2009 by Myke.

If you thought the bailout plan for the automakers was crazy, wait until you see who wants help now.  Hustler publisher Larry Flynt and Girls Gone Wild CEO Joe Francis.  That’s right folks, the Porn King and the Sluts in the Bar King are asking for $5,000,000,000.00 to bailout the porn industry.  *laughing my ass off right now*  I can actually see these two sitting in front of the Senate with their pinkies cocked to the side of their mouths like Dr Evil and saying they need 5 billion dollars to save the porn industry.  I am having a real hard time picturing this actually.  How do you honestly go in front of the Government and ask for money to save the porn industry???  I mean seriously…how is the porn industry hurting?  They play movies on Skin-a-max, Whoretime and you can download just about anything you want online.  I was recently at an adult store and the place was crowded and people were buying movies like crazy.

Okay, so I can see that maybe you will have to trim down your budget for the next skin flick but come on…it is not like you spend much anyways.  I realize some are over the top budget flicks but they are not like today’s $150,000,000.00 productions we see in the theater.  I have seen some recently, I mean my friend Chris has told me about some recently that look like they were shot in someones basement.

I mean, the porn industry asking for money to bail them out of trouble is like Jean Claude Van Dam pissing about how the Oscars are fixed and he deserved to win over Clint Eastwood.  Come on guys, pull your Viagra inflated cocks out of the 18 year old drama class drop outs and think about what you are asking for.

Understand, I enjoy some skin on TV but to say we need to give you 5 billion dollars is just retarded.

Porn industry seeks federal bailout

Posted: 03:00 PM ET

From CNN’s Rebecca Sinderbrand and Mark Preston

Larry Flynt is asking for a bailout.

WASHINGTON (CNN) — Another major American industry is asking for assistance as the global financial crisis continues: Hustler publisher Larry Flynt and Girls Gone Wild CEO Joe Francis said Wednesday they will request that Congress allocate $5 billion for a bailout of the adult entertainment industry.

“The take here is that everyone and their mother want to be bailed out from the banks to the big three,” said Owen Moogan, spokesman for Larry Flynt. “The porn industry has been hurt by the downturn like everyone else and they are going to ask for the $5 billion. Is it the most serious thing in the world? Is it going to make the lives of Americans better if it happens? It is not for them to determine.”

Francis said in a statement that “the US government should actively support the adult industry’s survival and growth, just as it feels the need to support any other industry cherished by the American people.”

“We should be delivering [the request] by the end of today to our congressmen and [Secretary of the Treasury Henry] Paulson asking for this $5 billion dollar bailout,” he told CNN Wednesday.

Come on people, help me out.  How does this make sense?  Why would the porn industry need 5 billion dollars?  For what?  For who?  Someone…please help me.

Posted in Rant, Funny | Print | 2 Comments »

Wednesday, January 7, 2009 by Myke.

My name is Travis and this is my story about my bathroom war with a co-worker.

My favorite men’s room was the largest one on the sixth floor of the Independence Plaza Building, where my office was located. It was spacious and bright with a cheerful pattern white tile on the floor and walls. The janitorial staff always kept the place spotlessly clean and well-stocked with soap, paper towels, and toilet paper. Institutional, yet attractive and comfortable, it was truly as fine as a common worker’s restroom could be. From the over-sized sinks to the stainless steel wall mounted trash receptacles, it was all high quality. Everything was well placed and every gleaming white fixture functioned with flawless efficiency.

But it was not just ambiance and serviceability that made this facility rate so very highly among the many in which I have shat on company time. The most important consideration in assessing the worthiness of a workplace restroom is its relative thronage — that is, the ratio of toilets to workers.  You see, the ratio of men to women on this floor was like 4 women to every man.  Which meant we had access to two stalls, one of which was a spacious “handicap” stall.  This stall was even equipped with “OMFG!  Get this shat out of me please!” handles on each side.

You see, there is a logical process in selecting a restroom stall. In order to maximize personal space for a private activity, we prefer to choose a stall that is not next to one already occupied. The architects of the Independence Plaza Building evidently understood this fundamental need and addressed it by specifying a floor plan that was disproportionately large in relation to proximate office space. I recognized the result as a kind gesture on the part of the building management. Thoughtful spending had enabled us to take on-duty dumps in an atmosphere of serenity and free space, instead of having to be crowded into the immediate presence of other people shitting, as is common in the phone monkey sector.

The handicapped-access stall was secluded and roomy, the ADA stall would have been the crème de la crème of staff-level water closets, but it was only for show. No handicapped men worked on the sixth floor and we who were not handicapped did use it. It was the toilet away from home toilet.

The ADA stall was the most popular because it was the most attractive and most private, having a tiled wall on the left of the seated guest and a neighboring stall only on the right. It was the one I felt most at home in, but it was frequently taken already when I needed to go. It was always a proud and happy occasion to find it open and waiting.

What was not acceptable and what greatly irritated me was when the occasional turd burglar would pick the stall next to mine.  And if the social retard was callous enough to fart, moan, grunt, or snort while mindlessly violating my entitled personal space, I went into a suppressed rage and seethed with contempt.  “Thanks alot you f**king turd burglar!”

And as if having to sit within a yard of his splashing turds were not undue imposition enough, there was also the inconvenience of having to schedule my exit so that the unwelcome neighbor and I would not both emerge from our stalls at the same time. Considering that the jerk was too thick to understand the basic rule about where to shit, I could reliably predict that he would have no awareness of the second rule either. So it was all up to me to circumvent any incidental we-just-shat-together eye contact that could result in embarrassment or unspoken animosity.

The most frustrating aspect of such an experience was the lack of recourse. In a public restroom, a man does not speak while shitting. He may let out a grunt or start breathing heavy.  To issue an utterance to another man as you squat bare-assed on a bowl or to address another man as he squats likewise would be unthinkable. Sometimes needed, but under very strict guidelines.  So I had to passively tolerate these offenses in silence. I could not warn off intruders nor could I speak out against their audacity. Above all, I could not retreat and live to shit another day with any sense of self-respect. Neither fight nor flight was an option.

But one Friday afternoon on a fine summer day, I got lucky. All the elements of vengeance and triumph came together when Sloth chose the worst possible time and place to drop his pants in the hope enjoying an intrusive shit.

Sloth (not his real name) worked for another group. I had to deal with him periodically on inter-department matters, which was difficult because he was belligerent, uncooperative, and confrontational. This was due in part to a long-standing grudge against my intelligence, but mostly it was just because he was a fat prick with dead animals seething from his anus. His sarcasm, tantrums, vague threats, and tiresome snottiness in general got him uncivil treatment in return, and we developed an intense contempt for each other.  (I think I am his nightly spank bank though, unconfirmed, but highly probable)

Fortunately, I was a little sick with something on that memorable day. There had already been a traumatic discharge early in the morning before I left for work. Voluminous quantities of dark brown liquid, semi-liquid, and slimy lumps of some gastrointestinal nightmare had gushed out in long, thick jets. The whole sloppy mess was power-assisted by a deadly gas that blew before, during, and after like an evil wind. The spew of poison air and soupy bio-hazards filled the bathroom with an unearthly stench that stifled my breath, burned my eyes, and made me fear for my life.

Now it was about two hours after lunch and my intestines were re-pressurized with more of the same. They were writhing, rumbling, and getting ready to heave out another bucketful of brown Hell. With no time to spare, I had just made it back to Independance Plaza from my daily walk with the “Myke Reinhold” and needed to get to a restroom right away.

I was worried about anal leakage en route to a potty, so my initial objective had been the nearest men’s room on the first floor. That would have been a wiser plan, but I temporarily felt more confident once inside the building and recklessly put the importance of familiar comfort ahead of not shitting my pants.

A minute later, past the point of no return, confidence dwindled as pressure increased. It intensified quickly to the extent that I was struggling to maintain control and was truly afraid. Afraid of spurting hot poo in the elevator car, alarming and repulsing the other public servants therein. The shame would be deep and eternal.

I forced that thought out of my mind and replaced it with another. I focused on a mental image of myself as master of my own bowels; calling the shots on where and when they move, where and when they don’t. With some psychological relief, but none in the physical, I reached the sixth floor without incident and credited it to this mind-over-fecal- matter exercise.

I proceeded nervously out of the elevator to the men’s room as urgently as a butt-puckered, stiff-legged man full of shit can walk. Looking toward the restroom, I noticed Sloth waddling toward me from the opposite elevator. He was also headed for the restroom, as it turned out.

We met at the door and exchanged hateful glances. I went in first and he followed immediately behind, almost bumping into me and another guy who was trying to get past us to exit. I continued on, quickly scanning the stalls. Both stalls were free. There was no one else in the restroom, which was not unusual on a Friday afternoon. There probably wasn’t much traffic anywhere on the sixth floor at that time.

It would have been most practical to dart into the first stall, but there were two clear challenges now. Reaching any toilet in time was the critical need, of course, but making it to the coveted throne afar was my ultimate goal. That was the one I really wanted. Just a few more taut mini-steps and it would be mine.

Mr. Sloth stayed on my heels. I could hear the huffy-puffy sound of his labored breathing from immediately behind my back. At first, I thought he was trying to get by me in order to claim the ADA stall for himself. I quickened my pressure-constricted stride, confident that the wheezing hog could not outpace me despite the disadvantage of my delicate condition.

He followed the whole way brazenly entered the stall next to the ADA stall. The intent of his antagonistic posturing was obvious by then. I got the message even more clearly as he thumped around noisily in the stall and knocked his big ass into the partition between us before settling onto the pot with an obnoxious sigh. His purpose was to demonstrate blatant disrespect by invading my personal space.

Normally I would have felt the anger building; but not this time. What I felt was the power of a secret weapon within. I felt my sphincter quiver in anticipation of dispensing a dose of noxious wrath and I felt absolute joy in knowing that Sloth was positioned at close range to best receive it. With such a wonderfully manifested opportunity at hand, I could hardly contain myself.

And I didn’t. I unleashed an intestinal rage that put a decisive and immediate end to any hope of adverse pooping satisfaction in his stall. When the explosive turbulence roared into his unguarded environment, he shifted on his seat. The noise had probably startled him. It at least gave him unmistakable notice of an assault underway.

A very short notice. Through warm, humid air in a confined space, the speed of stink approaches the speed of sound. Before the echo of the first eruption subsided, I heard his toilet paper roll spinning in the dispenser and a frantic rustling of paper as he folded some over a couple of times to place over his nose and mouth. I knew he was not wiping with it because he had not had time to shit. He was trying to save himself; trying in vain to shield his airway from an enveloping cloud of death with single-ply, commercial-grade tissue.

I laughed out loud at his futile defense. The transfer of toxic scent molecules from my ass to his nostrils was unstoppable. I fired again and laughed louder.

He was on his feet within seconds, mostly zipped-up, I suppose, and rattling the door latch. Determined to hit him once more before he got out, I grunted and pushed hard. A raspy, squealing fart cut through the contaminated air until a string of wet poo clumps cut it off. They were still plopping into the bowl as Sloth stomped heavily along the length of the room toward the exit.

My shorts were unstained, the warm air was putrid, and all was right with the world. In the afterglow of victory, I contemplated the perfection of accidental timing and felt certain that Sloth would be showing some respect in the future.

He didn’t. He only hated me more. But he may have become forever fearful of further feces or flatulence: he never entered my personal space again.

The moral of this story is simple; Do not F**K with the s**t king baby!

Posted in WTF, Funny | Print | 4 Comments »

Tuesday, January 6, 2009 by Myke.

I know I have.  Right off the mountain and into the beautiful sky.  But after watching this video, I not only want to fly…I want to go now!  But I have to admit something first.  I would have crapped myself silly doing what these guys did.

Posted in Good Feeling, Pro Sports | Print | No Comments »

Tuesday, January 6, 2009 by Myke.

Well, we are almost done with our 8 years of Bushism but to be honest, they will never be forgotten.  I mean where else can you hear “The problem is that most of our imports come from other countries”?  I will admit to voting for him both times but to be honest, was their really a choice?!?  Al Gore is a lying fat piece of Global Warmings**t and John Kerry is a country hating flag burning retard that would rather promote Communism than help Americans.  I understand that Bush was not the smartest peanut in the turd but at least he could make us laugh.  Good luck Obama and for everyone else, enjoy 8 years of Bushism.

• “I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully.” — September 2000, explaining his energy policies at an event in Michigan.

• “Rarely is the question asked, is our children learning?” — January 2000, during a campaign event in South Carolina.

• “They misunderestimated the compassion of our country. I think they misunderestimated the will and determination of the commander in chief, too.” — Sept. 26, 2001, in Langley, Va. Bush was referring to the terrorists who carried out the Sept. 11 attacks.

• “There’s no doubt in my mind, not one doubt in my mind, that we will fail.” — Oct. 4, 2001, in Washington. Bush was remarking on a back-to-work plan after the terrorist attacks.

• “It would be a mistake for the United States Senate to allow any kind of human cloning to come out of that chamber.” — April 10, 2002, at the White House, as Bush urged Senate passage of a broad ban on cloning.

• “I want to thank the dozens of welfare-to-work stories, the actual examples of people who made the firm and solemn commitment to work hard to embetter themselves.” — April 18, 2002, at the White House.

• “There’s an old saying in Tennessee — I know it’s in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can’t get fooled again.” — Sept. 17, 2002, in Nashville, Tenn.

• “Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we.” — Aug. 5, 2004, at the signing ceremony for a defense spending bill.

• “Too many good docs are getting out of business. Too many OB/GYNs aren’t able to practice their love with women all across this country.” — Sept. 6, 2004, at a rally in Poplar Bluff, Mo.

• “Our most abundant energy source is coal. We have enough coal to last for 250 years, yet coal also prevents an environmental challenge.” — April 20, 2005, in Washington.

• “We look forward to hearing your vision, so we can more better do our job.” — Sept. 20, 2005, in Gulfport, Miss.

• “I can’t wait to join you in the joy of welcoming neighbors back into neighborhoods, and small businesses up and running, and cutting those ribbons that somebody is creating new jobs.” — Sept. 5, 2005, when Bush met with residents of Poplarville, Miss., in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

• “It was not always a given that the United States and America would have a close relationship. After all, 60 years we were at war 60 years ago we were at war.” — June 29, 2006, at the White House, where Bush met with Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi.

• “Make no mistake about it, I understand how tough it is, sir. I talk to families who die.” — Dec. 7, 2006, in a joint appearance with British Prime Minister Tony Blair.

• “These are big achievements for this country, and the people of Bulgaria ought to be proud of the achievements that they have achieved.” — June 11, 2007, in Sofia, Bulgaria.

• “Mr. Prime Minister, thank you for your introduction. Thank you for being such a fine host for the OPEC summit.” — September 2007, in Sydney, Australia, where Bush was attending an APEC summit.

• “Thank you, Your Holiness. Awesome speech.” April 16, 2008, at a ceremony welcoming Pope Benedict XVI to the White House.

• “The fact that they purchased the machine meant somebody had to make the machine. And when somebody makes a machine, it means there’s jobs at the machine-making place.” — May 27, 2008, in Mesa, Ariz.

• “And they have no disregard for human life.” — July 15, 2008, at the White House. Bush was referring to enemy fighters in Afghanistan.

• “I remember meeting a mother of a child who was abducted by the North Koreans right here in the Oval Office.” — June 26, 2008, during a Rose Garden news briefing.

• “Throughout our history, the words of the Declaration have inspired immigrants from around the world to set sail to our shores. These immigrants have helped transform 13 small colonies into a great and growing nation of more than 300 people.” — July 4, 2008 in Virginia.

• “The people in Louisiana must know that all across our country there’s a lot of prayer — prayer for those whose lives have been turned upside down. And I’m one of them. It’s good to come down here.” — Sept. 3, 2008, at an emergency operations center in Baton Rouge, La., after Hurricane Gustav hit the Gulf Coast.

• “This thaw — took a while to thaw, it’s going to take a while to unthaw.” Oct. 20, 2008, in Alexandria, La., as he discussed the economy and frozen credit markets.

Posted in The Facts, WTF, Funny | Print | 3 Comments »

Monday, January 5, 2009 by Myke.

Did you know today was the final day at the World Series of Beer Pong IV?  Well, it is folks and there is a grand prize of $50,000.00.

Holy crap folks, there is finally a sport where drinking is encouraged.  I figure I have 360 days to get ready for next years event.  :-)  Just kidding…but if there was a Jägermeister tournament I would be so in baby!

LAS VEGAS — Don’t let the smell of beer and the rock music fool you: Beer pong is a serious game. Some dare say a sport.

Granted, they tend to be grinning and drinking when they say it.

There was plenty of both going on this weekend at the World Series of Beer Pong IV, a loud and sloshy annual tournament that elevates a college fraternity house staple that includes ping pong balls and beer to an (almost) serious competition.

With a $50,000 prize on the line, more than 400 teams flocked to the Flamingo hotel-casino on the Las Vegas Strip for a chance to bring their skills out of the bar and into the big time. They wore matching uniforms and talked about focus and strategy.

Some also wore matching hot pants and talked about drinking more Pabst Blue Ribbon, the official beer of the tournament.

But the winner, Ron Hamilton, 25, of Brentwood, N.Y., preferred liquor to beer, and said he got ready for Sunday’s play by drinking a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“The key today was me getting real drunk and my partner not missing, and us coming out and proving we’re the best,” Hamilton said shortly after winning the top prize with Michael Popielarski, 25, of Massapequa, N.Y.

Hamilton said he and his partner — who form the team Smashing Time — met three years ago at a bar in Long Island.

“We’ve been unstoppable ever since,” he said. Hamilton said he planned to eliminate his personal debt and pay part of his mother’s mortgage with the winnings.

The game is played with cups of beer lined up like bowling pins on two ends of a 14-foot table. Team members alternate trying to toss a ping pong ball into the cups. The team that lands all the cups wins, the losers drink.

While one team is tossing, the other is free to create any sort of distraction, hence the skimpy hot pants. “The skill is the psyche out,” said competitor 23-year-old Ryan Young.

Beer pong came to prominence largely in East Coast college campuses in the late 1990s. It has recently left the campus for the mainstream.

More bars are setting up tables and weekly tournaments. A new documentary, “Last Cup: Road to the World Series of Beer Pong,” captures the growing pong culture. “Beer Pong” the video game was designed for Nintendo Co.’s popular Wii game system, but JV Games Inc. changed the name to “Pong Toss” amid complaints about appropriateness for teenagers. The World Series of Beer Pong has seen its ranks swell five fold since its first tournament in 2006.

Devotees say the game is a hit because it requires just enough skill and concentration that you can improve with practice, but not so much that you can’t also have a few while playing.

This World Series of Beer Pong is the brainchild of entrepreneurs Billy Gaines, Duncan Carroll and Ben “Skinny” Solnik. The trio met as students and beer pong aficionados at Carnegie Mellon University.

After graduation, they set out in their spare time to turn the game they loved into a moneymaker. Their site, bpong.com, sells tables, T-shirts, balls and other gear. The company organizes satellite tournaments and is a clearinghouse for detailed and occasionally heated conversation about the game’s rules. This one made it into the world series official rule book: “No player may take offense to anything said or done during a game, even if it involves their mother.”

But the world series’ rules don’t require the losers to drink, a deviation from original game, and a concession, perhaps, to critics. Beer pong and other drinking games have been targeted by those trying to curb binge drinking. Some college campuses have banned the game.

Gaines said beer pong is misunderstood.

“I know the media will say this is a chugging contest,” he said. “This is about a sport, it’s about a competition. They aren’t here to drink. Yeah, they’re drinking, but that’s not why they’re here.”

I am sorry, but any event sponsered by Pabst Blue Ribbon has my vote.  *I think I just pissed myself*

Posted in Pro Sports, Funny | Print | 1 Comment »