Living Under a Rock?

You must be if you haven't heard about our new location. After a brief hiatus to move our banks of servers and relocate all the hot receptionists to our new office plaza, we will be fully operational at www.80ozoffury.com effective November 8th.

What The Hell To Do With The BCS?

Don't the hell make Bama #1. Calm down on that. Florida is the best playin' team in the country right now. OU looks goods, but not that good. Sit down all you midwesterners. Careful about what happens, but I vow it plays out in the SEC championship. National Champs again baby!!!

Can't Stride Right

Damnnation. We send a rep all the way over the pond and all we come up with is a picture of Can't Get Right and the Charger quarterbacks?! Are you serious? I will have to have a word with the accountants out on Gay Street about this floundering of funds. In this down turn of the economy we can't be throwing money around. Anyway this is what our corespondent relayed to us back here in the real world:
I mean, we try to represent a little better over there in the Europe, but sometimes this is all you have got. So our rep, CGR, sends this one back over the wire and I am fairly convinced it is fake. Like our boy just walked up to a booth outside of the stadium, had his picture taken, and then photoshopped the bitch in with a picture of the Charger QBs walking across Abbey Road. It is all so perfect and so deceptive...

F Can't Get Right. Why is he playing me like this?! But then I got the silver bullet. You know what I am talking about. That little bit of evidence that puts the nail in the coffin. That cement that closes the wound and you know that Can't Get Right just walked across Abbey Road with the Chargers!
Anyway this is what Zep calls a Communication Breakdown. Why is our rep taking an unsolicited jaywalking excursion? This will be delt with. Clearly the "No Walk" lamp is illuminated.

So my real salt in the crotch about this picture is that our CGR is out of stride. I mean, there are many difficult things in this world and keeping stride with the ancient Beatles is not one of them. Let's examine the gold standard: So apparently the pro athletes also cannot keep stride. Bitches. Man up Rivers and watch the route! We can't handle this tomfoolery in the states! No one is fighting for the title of Greatest "Athlete" Drinker at this rate... I need to see more from my boy overseas.

The next time I send bitches to another continent I need to make sure that they can follow through on the mission at hand. Speaking of which...we are looking for our next guinea pig. You must be able to travel and have contact with foreigners. And by that I mean you may be heading to Eclectic, AL or such exotic locations as Martinez, GA. You will see the world!

And just to prime the pump, we are moving hosts to our own dedicated server. Be ready in the next few days to behold to new www.80ozoffury.com. Sit down bitches.

My Childhood Hero

Everyone has heroes. Michael Jordan, Lance Armstrong, Ronald Reagan and such... My alcoholic hero is John Damn Daly. The kid fell off the wagon drunk so long ago he has become a piece of roadkill. He is still the only dude I have personally seen finish a cig and toss it down on the 7th green at Augusta National. Are you f'in kidding me?!

So it really comes as no surprise when the Greatest "Athlete" Drinker of all time passes the hell out at Hooters! We all know what a big fan of Hooters Daly is. Every time kid comes to Augusta I meet him over at the Washington Road location to throw a few back. He grabs a few asses and we go about our way. I have never seen him get unruly or uncooperative at all.

But not to get off the point too far here, I am hereby declaring John Damn Daly the Greatest "Athlete" Drinker of all time! I mean up there with Babe Ruth and all that. The Babe was a better "Athlete", and probably got a few more chicks in his life, but Daly is the greatest drinker. Babe also never passed out at a Hooters or scarred the landscape of the most pristine golfing course in the world.

This post dedicated to Bo Jackson, who was not the greatest drinker of all time, who was not even really that good at drinking while playing sports, but who was arguably the greatest athlete (no quotes) of all time. Happy Birthday there Bo.

GET OFF THE CAR, CAT!!!!!!

Dude Gets Revenge On Cat - Watch more free videos

jj's balls

are in a dumpster.

think about that for a minute.

ok now forget it.

who knew muhammad loved bananas????

what if you got 40 virgins - and they were all guys?!!?!?!?!!!?! AAAAGGGGHHHHHH what a waste of time that would have been. i mean, what with the worshipping and praying and kneeling and stoning and jihadding, etc...

monthly meat and two veg

when i get done with this stupid research paper/presentation/doing laps around the world for a diet root beer that some dumb bitch is just going to drop on the ground by my feet, i am going to spend an entire week with one hand tucked into my drawers ala ted bundy and one hand on the remote/xbox controller. that's final

Vacation time?

Does anybody even remember what vacation feels like? As I wake up to the low 30's, i find myself thinking of the good ole days, when we used to lounge by the poolside. These were the days that we would have a few beers for breakfast, a few more for lunch, and move on to whiskey for dinner. We would sit around and tell stories or talk religion with lovell until he fell asleep peacefully on the concrete floor next to the screen door. ahh, the memories.

The Experiment

So I set out this day to measure the very effects of alcohol on the body. What I got was somewhat unexpected.

To set it up: I procured a Wii Fit pad from the McCallens. Time for fun. I obtain my "Wii age" from the mystical box while sober. It tells me I am 36. What the hell is that? It tells me I need to exercise more. That is bullshit. It tells me my upper body may be too weak. That is bullshit. At this point I am worried my experiment just got chucked out of the window by some Jap crap that doesn't know shit.

In spite of the adversity, I press on with my trial. I run hard at the Sunday Drill but only come up with 24:49. Dismal. Disappointing. The earth is spinning in reverse and all that.

What to do? Well, anyone with any balls now checks that "Wii age" again. I am only 12 beers into it at this point:
So the Jap magic box tells me I am now 41 years old. I only gained 5 years in 12 beers? That is a dismal damned return on beers consumed. I will now have to resort to Jack to get my age in the proper position. I have known that I was a senior citizen for some time now.

Well, at least I am not Can't Get Right stuck on the wrong side of the pond in the middle of a fog/rain storm (normal England weather).
F' it. I am out for now. Jimmie Johnson runs some kind of crazy shit and gains 10 positions in the last 8 laps of the race. But big dog Carl Edwards is your race winner. I will try harder next week. My apologies to all the pygmies...

Not to steal other people's material....but this one is hilarious.

Concerning The League of Bumblefooted Drifters:

"Gabe is the best at being a complete douche when it comes to fantasy football. I'd be undefeated too if I spent all day pointin' and clickin' and chatin' it up with my fellow elitist fantasy football butt buddies. Enough with the gay rankings, we all can see how everybody else is doing. And remember SOB, it's all about the playoffs, and last year you got your motorboat handed to you by somebody. Who was that? Oh yeah.....ME!"

Hank Tankerous

Gabe where are you at? I expect a pointed and dickhead response, Chad style!

Brittle Brodie

Brodie Croyle is injured and out for the season... AGAIN. If I'm not mistaken, this was his first game back after being injured the first game of the season. I know this breaking news does not come as a surprise to most because A.) this kind of injury-prone madness has been happening to Brodie since high school and B.) this shit happened last Sunday and I know I am a week behind on blogging about the injury. The reason for said delay is all the man hours I have put in trying to figure out, for the good of mankind, the puzzling question as to why Brodie has toothpick-like ligaments and tendons. After countless hours of picking Dr. James Andrews' brain, endless nights pouring over medical journals, and several trips out to the Big Oak Ranch to speak with Papa Croyle (as he likes to be called by all the kids at the ranch), I have come to the conclusion that Brodie's injuries are all due to The Wheelchair Jinx. Many might be asking, What in the hell is The Wheelchair Jinx. Well, my friends, The Wheelchair Jinx is a lot like the Madden Football video game cover jinx. Here is the explanation for those of you who have been living in a cave the last few years. John Madden and EA Sports put out a video game every year and inevitably the person who is chosen to be on the cover suffers a season altering injury. Now with that little tidbit of information, it is time to get back to the Wheelchair Jinx.
I have always had this superstition that if someone uses the aid of crutches and/or a wheelchair when not hurt that said person will, in time, definitely need the aid of those apparatuses tenfold. Remember that as a part of my due diligence I interviewed Papa Croyle. I will explain now the costly decision made by his family that I believe altered the football career of a cannon-armed phenom and sent his life into a downward spiral of pain and countless hours of rehabilitation.

During one interview with Papa Croyle he informed me that back when little Brodie was around six Big Wheels were in style. He said all the kids in the neighborhood would ride their Big Wheels around and that if you didn't have a Big Wheel you weren't shit. Around this same time Papa Croyle stated that his father, Brodie's grandfather, passed away after a long fight with cancer. Papa Croyle, now fighting back tears thinking about his father, said that Brodie used to beg him for a Big Wheel daily. Papa said that times were hard back then and money was tight. He also said that with the passing of grandpa the family had an unused wheelchair laying around. Then to my dismay, Papa spelled out the day he gave little Brodie grandpa's wheelchair in place of the expensive Big Wheel. He said Brodie rode that wheelchair cutting donuts and tearing up neighbor's yards until the tires gave out. I knew as soon as I heard this family story that I had found the holy grail for Brodie's sports woes. Let this be a lesson to all you out there, beware of the Wheelchair Jinx.

As a side note: The Kansas City Chiefs should really let Brodie go because this jinx has a lifetime longevity. Also, no one should ever be dumb enough to start Mr. Jinx on a fantasy roster from here on out. You've been warned.


Actual footage of little Brodie tearing it up back in the day...

Halftime Report from the Basement

Dammit! Commish comes in at 21:36! Damn all of you that think I can't break 20. I will do it. I was 75% done at 12. It is only a matter of time! Chad's Robin breaks the traps at 39:41. He also challenges all BITCHES to do better. All MEN participate in the 80 ounces of fury...

For All The Latest Political News....

Turn to 80ozoffury.blogspot.com!  This one provided by Chad's Robin, always on the job.  Now pay attention and listen for a bit to catch what is going on.  There is no actual video.

The Weekly Blessing

The Corner of Wire Road & Shug

It's good inspiration for tonight. I am afraid I might have to be drunk to watch this one. At least they are going to throw Erin Andrews up on the screen every once in a while.

"I have never been to a place in Mississippi that I liked."

Was my boss's comment yesterday when our (his) plan went to all shit. You see, we headed off for a short day trip to Yazoo City, MS to do some testing. We were supposed to come home last night. We missed it by only 24 hours. Close, but no cigar. I obviously haven't been to Mississippi in several years, and I was quickly reminded of why. It is every bit as desolate and just plain crappy as I remember it being.

What are we doing in Yazoo City, MS? And what the hell is there to do anything to? Yazoo City is home to a Federal Correctional Institution. Or "jail" if you aren't writing up a resume. Here it is:By the way I noticed a southeastern states visitor's guide in our hotel room later that day. It had several pages devoted to each state's main tourist attractions and such. And Mississippi had listed damned Yazoo City as one of its top places to visit! I guess the pickings were kind of slim though, because they also listed Memphis. Memphis, TN! But on with the story...

I must say I noticed that the prisoners seem to spend all day out in the beautiful weather playing various sports and being generally jovial. I commented on this to my boss at every opportunity while I was sweating my ass off carrying large items around.

Anyway...we are supposed to do some testing for a future facility. Luckily the future facility is across the fence from the criminals (as you might can see from the above photo). So we find our test site by following Hazzard County Dirt Road 329 and here is what we see:
No, this is not a photo I found on the internet under a search of "barren African wasteland". This is Mississippi in all her glory. Five foot tall undergrowth as far as the eye can see. The survey crew is a bunch of locals and they haven't shown up to locate our specific test area for us. We can't speak to our contact at the correctional facility because he is out at Low (that's minimum security for you laymen) and they can't call him on the phone because there aren't phones in Mississippi. And we are stuck.

So I guess we aren't coming home as planned. I scored this sweet brown paper bag from the Black and White department store in downtown Yazoo City with the purchase of a pair of socks and a pair of drawers:
A short stroll down Main Street (no shit, Main Street) led me to the local druggist who traded me a small bottle of contact lens solution for 9 of my dollars (no shit, $9). Just one more stop by the store where the local ballers get their Jordans for a pair of extra long, and all they had was extra long, and they are EXTRA LONG, gym shorts to sleep in and my paper sack was getting pretty damned stuffed.

For dinner it was across the hotel parking lot to El Sombrero whose bar tender will kindly whip you up a "jumbo" 75 ounce margarita. DAMN! We finished up the night with a little football and I was lucky enough to sleep on a cot. But at least I had a climate controlled room with one of those new fangled color televisions.

Oh, and with the help of the locals we were able to conduct our tests today:

Actually....

...you dont drive fast, Miss Daisy.

I Am a Fast Sombitch

I don't have to tell you all this. You know how fast I am. Every damned thing I do is fast. I shop fast, I work fast, I talk on the phone fast, I beat bitches at beer pong fast, I complain about bullshit fast, I am fast to not talk to women unless they meet my criteria fast; every damned thing is fast. Today I wear green. Green means go. Green means fast. Yesterday I went with Skriberstein to purchase a fast car. I took the car and I drove it fast to the dirty Mexican restaurant where I consumed margaritas at a fast pace. I just got off the phone with Dale Jr. and he tells me, "Commish, why don't you slow down a little and enjoy the scenery? You know, go at normal pace for a bit." I told him to F OFF. I take 80 ounces of brew and drink it in 21:36. Could be good, could be bad.... But it is damn sure better than 99.9% of this bankrupt country. And I did it hunched and hung over.

Poll over and the majority of you think that a "human" can drink 80 ounces in less than 3 minutes. Just to clarify, Chad and Mel are not "human". And what KC did is just "inhuman". So the line in the sand has been drawn. 3 minutes. I don't care how you ingest it, but get 80 ounces of beer in your Chuck, gut, in less than or equal to (hooray for math!) 3 minutes and earn yourself a spot on the 80 Ounces of Fury homepage!

Oh, and I will throw in my damned dog since no one seems to want to win her.

State of the Commish

Hunched.

Quote of the Week - Georgia Game

"I will piss on a bitch."
- Lynch

Things will get worse after this. As we get closer to the most anticipated (by the Commish) game of the year, things will get much, much worse.

To hell with Georgia!!!

Grade A Best Competition Beer Drinking Coach

Some of you may not have heard of the kid, but this guy is the best competition beer drinking coach ever. I am talking some underground sneak into your ass shit here. This guy makes the weakest, meekest, into drinking champions! You try to bring it against him, but he throws a dick against your forehead and laughs at you.
Matthew Lovell.

BRING IT!

Scrate Up Dance Party

Where the hell is ya'll? The shit is going down in the Lovell Zoo Basement! Beer pong on.

Spotted in Calera, Al

This guy was spotted near Calera, Al earlier today. It is believed to be "the Tim Tebow." The only question local authorities have is why he wasn't wearing Crocs. They are his signature accessory, along with the ever-present Jorts.















(Thanks Melanie...)

Quote of the Week

"Again, my thoughts are based on me being a badass."
-Samuel

Dude I am taking that one. Great.

Motivation

These men are motivation for anyone who aspires to be a top-notch drinker. Look on in awestruck admiration...

To be fair

What the Commish asks for, the Commish gets...

I'll join in the fun...

I figured, while we were at it, we should get one of the founders involved. Normally,
this would be considered an "after" photo...

Mustache? Who cares about that, look at this hat.

Are you kidding? That is an awesome 'stache.

How about this hat....

Holy Balls

This dude eats a 20 pound hamburger in one sitting. This has seriously warped my perspective on Edward 40 Hands. I think a minute and a half should be about average time....for my grandmother. I should be in under 60 seconds! I don't know if I will be able to look at myself in the mirror on Sunday if I don't put it down in 40 seconds or so. Damn!

The Final Countdown...

Ah yes we are getting close to the first weekend with the blog up and running. You all know what that means: fresh keg on tap at the Lovell Zoo.

It also means some of us may be drinking a bit too much and deciding to let our emotions get the better of us on this very site. So parents, you might want to tell your kids to leave the room.

Beer pong breaks out at 6:00 sharp after the Bama game. You can find live coverage of Casey and I whipping the living donkey balls out of all challengers RIGHT HERE!

Some good ol Gabe and Samuel bashing is a great way to kick off the weekend. However, I feel they should get a rebuttal. Anyone have any more Obama bashing to throw out?

By the way no one has tried to win my damned dog and I am disappointed.

Florida/Alabama rules

For what it is worth, every game of cornhole that I have ever played in Florida or Alabama has been of the 3/1 variety. Sounds like cheatin' is goin' on to me, but your Auburn reference is probably not going to win over many of your constituents. Who else is leaving the country when Obama gets elected?

3 vs 2 = you decide

National Corn Hole Association

It is funny how an all out email war of the worlds can start up from one innocent forward. A little background first: While at the tailgate for the Auburn/LSU game a few weeks ago a game of corn hole broke out. Thankfully I was teamed up with a partner that was pounding the hole like Ron Jeremy. I mean this guy couldn't miss; He was knocking down three point shots one after another. After a few throws the opposing team informed us that the official ( or their BS rules because they were losing) rules stated that bags in the hole were worth two points and on the board were worth one. Well I, being one who loves to play competitive drinking games, usually can spout off the rules for any beer gut match, so I was pretty sure they were pulling shenanigans on us. Since it was early in the day and I hadn't had a lot to drink, I let them make up the rules on the fly without much opposition. I figured I was correct about the two verses three discrepancy, but I told them that I may be mistaken since it was early in the day. Of course, with the changing of the rules and then subtracting most of the points we had earned prior to the dispute we ended up losing by one.
Now getting back to the email that brought all of this back to my memory. One of the guys we were playing against that day in Auburn sends a forward to my work address with an arcade-type corn hole game attached for us to "practice" our skills on. After several minutes of working for the man I decide I have earned the right to have a little fun. I convince myself that even while working , I should find time to better myself in the competitive drinking/gaming world if I want to be the best. I eagerly click on the link and it takes me to ESPN's site. As I am scanning the directions on how to aim the corn bag with the mouse, I notice the scoring rules clearly mention that three points are awarded for bags going in the hole and one point for bags on the board. After seeing this, I'm fucking pissed. I knew we won that game and that those douche bags changed the rules. So after I calmed down, I sent out an email informing them that I was correct about the scoring system. Please read and decide how this scoring issue should be resolved:

1) Initial e-mail from Sam
Sam wrote:
> some of ya'll need the work...
>
>
> http://arcade.espn.go.com/corn-hole.htm


2) My e-mail after reading the instructions and finding out I was correct about the scoring:

Hey Gabe and Sam,

3 points for in the hole and 1 for on the board. I knew I was right you amateurs.


3) One of their goon's responses to my last email:

I have played with mid-west yankees and they play two points in the hole. Ole Miss folks, too. And Wisonsin. Since when did ESPN become an authority? They are probably trying to sell "game day" corn hole games where the hole is corso's mouth.

4) And then Gabe's response:

I like 2 points better, 3 seems like too many. Auburn rules.


5) Now I'm starting to get pissed because I take this crap seriously . My response to the last two goons' opinions.

I equate on the board with a field goal in football. You were close to scoring but didn't come away with the big points. Therefore, in the hole is a touchdown and an extra point. Do two field goes equal a touchdown and an extra point? I think not. I rest my case. You have got to have a better supporting argument other then "I just like scoring in the hole as two points because my retarded ass throws like a girl and I can't get it in the hole"

Casey

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

6) Gabe's reply:

touchdown is 6 points and worth twice as much as a field goal. so 2 points for in the hole and 1 point for on the board. twice as much, not three times as much.

I'm surprised that Casey wants 3:1 scoring since I wasn't aware Bammers could count in multiples of 3. What with their fuzzy math and all.

7) Here is my reply after that last comment made my ears start to heat up:

Gabe, I kind of figured you wouldn't understand the touchdown and extra point analogy seeing as how auburn has had a hard time finding the end zone and when they do find it, they miss the extra point.

Casey

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Now please vote or comment on 2 vs 3...

The Mysterious "Chuck"

I know where Chuck is. Chuck is not hiding, for chuck is not shy. Chuck is proud and on display. For those who dare guess, good luck, for a scrotum without balls will be your prize.

Our First Stupendous Give-Away!!

What B wants, B gets. Some of you all may be familiar with Chuck, others not so much. Now keep it honest and if you already know about Chuck don't say anything. I think it would be fun to see what people come up with. Somewhere on the blog is featured a picture of Chuck. Chuck normally keeps quiet so you might have to look closely. If you think you have figured out who/what Chuck is leave a comment for everyone to read.

I racked my brain trying to come up with something to give as a prize for this little game. All the while the answer was sitting right in front of me, sometimes only an inch from my face. To the first correct answer will go a mediocre imitation of man's best friend. That's right. You all know her as JJ, but of course you can change her name to anything you want after winning her. There are no guarantees or warranties with the prize, but I can assure you that the last time I checked she is fully equipped to eat and crap....crap and eat. She has been garage kept under a tarp in my daddy's back yard and I changed the plugs seasonally. Very rarely will she emit foul sludge, but when it happens it is usually at someone else's house.

So let the games begin and good luck to you all!

OBO. All deals are damned final.

Tis the Season

So today an invitation to a Halloween party reminded me that every girl's favorite holiday is two weeks away. You might think Valentine's Day or Christmas or The First Day of College Football would be a girl's favorite holiday, but you would then be WRONG. Since I annually find myself incapable of devising a costume worthy of my normal wittiness, I am going to open the floor for suggestions (even from Chad). Leave them as a comment or mail me at furydrinker@gmail.com.

Has anyone seen Chuck?

There seems to be a gratuitous Chuck pictured on your blog here, Commish. I think you should offer a prize to anyone unfamiliar with Chuck that is able to identify him on the blog. Just a thought...

Shameless plug

For somewhat expert analysis on the train wreck that is Auburn football, you need to be under the trees at the Corner of Wire Road and Shug.

For unparalleled analysis on beer chugging, you need to hang out here more.

Brandon Jacobs is ready to unleash Usher style maneuvers on the Browns!

All I need is Jacobs to gain some 400 yards tonight, or 250 yards and 3 touchdowns, or 7 touchdowns with 0 yards, and the Motorboatin' SOBs go down! That's possible, right? Wish me luck.

I don't appreciate Chad's tone

Chad is no longer allowed to talk unless he has more than five words to say. I need constructive input. I am starting a damned blog here! Don't make me sub you for Chase.
Read this: contributing to this blog is a privilege not a right. Don't let it go to your head.
As the night wears on I get more beer in me and I tend to get more abrasive. That is the essence of this damned project!

weekly meat and two veg

in my inaugural blog entry for 80 ounces of fury, allow me first and foremost to complain that i have not yet received a check for my writing services. i'm expecting some sort of signing bonus or some such pre-emptive compensation, however as of the date of this correspondence, no such compensation has been recieved. i will digress to move to the next intended focus of this post, to honor the Legends of the Game. now as many of you may know, i hate capitalization. i think it as a concept is comparable to an evolutionary holdover, similar to an appendix on the large intestine, or the dangly, do nothing dew claw on suzanne's front paws. capitalization does nothing. knowing this, and recognizing that i have in fact chosen to tolerate the use of capitalization when in reference to those heroes who have rightfully earned their position in the Legends of the Game in spite of my aforementioned opinion; readers should easily be able to recognize the magnitude of my reverence for these individuals. the Legends of the Game, in order of importance to the human race, include:

1. casey atchison - with a fury time of 3'52", it's hard to imagine that this time will be eclipsed prior to the development of a beer gut on the prospective time beater. casey is often referred to as 'beerjesus'.

2. melanie reddick - fury time of 4'55". with only one witness to this event, the only real evidence we have that this time is accurate is the fact that chad reddick had to have his manhood physically removed with a crow bar in order to hand it over to his wife melanie. surely chad would not have allowed this indignity if mel had not achieved the amazing feat.

3. chad reddick - fury time of 11'. the original. there is a bronze statue of chad in front of fury stadium. it has pigeon goo on it's head.

until next week, salutations from fury stadium, home of suzanne's useless dew claws.

Inaugural post

Tiger wears red on Sunday. I wear red on Sunday. Tiger kicks ass and takes names on Sunday. I put up a mediocre time of 28:11 on Sunday. I am damned disappointed I have nothing better to put up for my first post. I have nothing snappy to report here, but I think Lovell does. For now, drink on. Oh yeah, and f Chad.