Can’t Underage Teens Get Drunk Like Normal People

I’m watching the movie Whip It.

I was planning on writing about drinking today.

The one seems to be really influencing me to start doing the other and not just writing about it. But what would be sadder than getting drunk at 11am while watching a movie by Drew Barrymore about girls roller derby? It would be sadderer if I was wearing my own cosplay girls roller derby outfit inspired by my favorite character from this movie as well as matching roller-skates and helmet… and drinking before 11am and it wasn’t by chance that I turned this on because there is nothing else on TV, but instead I had searched the digital cable menu for the times that Whip It played on TV and I planned this all out and wrote it on my Whip It wall calendar that I made at a local Kinko’s with each month a screen capture of these colorful characters that I took with my iphone.

That would be sadderer. Actually, it would be saddererer if it was a tear off 365 day calendar and not some stupid 12 month wall calendar. To show true devotion, I would create this ripoff calendar with my compiled list of favorite quotes, trivia, and roller derby facts. That would be saddererer, so much so that I’m considering starting to drink now at 11:05am because that image is that disturbingly sad.

Either way, Alia Shawkat has some big boobs. Big wonderful boobs.

You know who does as well, Kat Dennings. Jesus Christ resurrected to be a celebrity life coach on NBC’s The Biggest Loser she has some big carnivorous boobs. Like bison burger eating boobs.

Ok, I’m backing off the edge of morning drinking by calming myself with the thought of boobs. Everything is better now. Except for the fact that I now feel sad and lonely that not one of those four boobs is here right now to keep me company. But that is a normal level of disappointment I’m used to.

I was thinkin’ of talkin’ drinkin’ today.

Another friend of mine tried Four Loko this past weekend. Against all the alluring descriptions and warnings I wrote, they still felt the need to try it. And I do not blame him. I understand that after years of drinking beer, wine, whiskey (blended and single malt), gin, vodka, rum, tequila, bourbon, absinthe, jager, and some other liquids that may or may not have been expected to be consumed by homo sapien sapiens, but nevertheless get you fucked up – the idea of drinking this vile Four Loko concoction is an intriguing one.

And that is ok to me. I as well as he are seasoned drinkers. Veteran drinkers. At this point in our illustrious career of consuming the legally consumable poison, we have the experience necessary to survive a night of Four Loko. But what scares me most about Four Loko are the kids of America with Four Loko. The kids of America, the youth of today, the children of the future with their hoverboards and time travel belts will be starting out drinking and their drink of choice will be Four Loko. They will not be ready for it. No one is ready for this canned wickedness, but at the very least a professional boozer will be able to march on through the evil science project of Four Loko and realize that the old ways of getting drunk on actual alcohol is much preferred.

And what of the long traditions of drinking booze?

And what of more Ari Graynor!?! She is so damn attractive. If I could quantify her attractiveness into craziness then she would be the 50 Cent Twitter account of attractiveness. Why wasn’t Whip It an instructional documentary about how to contact Ari Graynor and make her fall in love with you via intellectually charming or an aerosol based pheromone formula that tricks her into falling in love with you if you wear it as a cologne?

What of the “case races”? What of them!?! What of the glory of them? What of the aquarium like feeling one has when one’s stomach is filled with roughly 300 ounces of commercial sudsy beer? What of it!?! One cannot “case race” with Four Loko. It is humanly impossible to drink a case of Four Loko. It is actually humanly impossible to drink more than one can of Four Loko. Reason being, if you do finish one can of Four Loko then you are technically not human anymore. At that point, you cease being human because the percentage of humanity that generally makes you up is subtracted by the anti-matter juice of Four Loko and you cannot be considered, scientifically, as a human being anymore. Even then it is virtually impossible as an inhuman to drink a second can of Four Loko.

What of the “power hour”? What of taking a shot of beer every 60 seconds for an hour? One cannot drink 60 shots of Four Loko in a lifetime and if one tries then that lifetime will only be until that very day when you started trying. What of the feeling that doing 60 shots of beer doesn’t sound like much when considering how many ounces are in a shot and how many ounces one usually drinks of beer, but then like 20 minutes in you start realizing that you’re drunk and you are only 1/3 of the way through the hour and the timer contraption you have set to alert you of the shot at each minute mark starts sounding like the apocalyptic alarm in the bunker of Lost? What about the turn around half hour into the “power hour” when you realize how many beers you are going through, so instead of getting up to get one beer at a time you decide to take a couple beers out at a time, but that is actually a bad idea because the other beers are just sitting there getting warmer and eventually you will be taking shots of warm beer in the home stretch of 10 minutes left and counting?

What of beer pong!?! What of BEER PONG!?! WHAT OF BEER PONG!?! I am getting teary eyed just thinking of the demise of beer pong. I am getting teary eyed like Ellen Page finding out that her rocker boyfriend gave her t-shirt she gave him to another girl. Also, I would say this – DO NOT DATE A GUY WHO CAN WEAR YOUR CLOTHES! That seems to be words to live by. If you are dating a guy who could without any serious alteration wear the clothes that you have chosen for yourself in the girls’ and women’s sections of clothing stores then you should not be dating him. If Ellen Page gave me a t-shirt to wear, my attempt to put the t-shirt on would look like Hulk Hogan tearing his t-shirt off somehow in reverse. It would be like the Incredible Hulk trying to wear the clothes not just of Bruce Banner, but of Bruce Banner’s little sister. Anyway, BEER PONG!

Are we suggesting that one day a couple will go to a Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse and order a rare porterhouse with a side of mashed potatoes and instead of looking for a nice red zinfandel or cabernet sauvignon, that they will be making the choice between a watermelon or fruit punch Four Loko? On an airline, will there be a day that ordering two shot bottle after two shot bottle of Dewars blended scotch whiskey like a classy grown-up will be replaced by neon pop top cans of the Devil’s piss Four Loko?

I want to smack the can of Four Loko out of every new drinker’s hand just like Ellen Page smacked that female sized rocker ex-boyfriend of her’s when he tried in vain to lie about not cheating on her or calling her. I want to smack the can of Four Loko out of their hand and replace in that hand a 40 of Olde English and duct tape that to their hand and that do the same to their other hand and play Edward 40-hands. If they want to drink malt liquor then drink a reasonable amount of it like any good American at a decent 6 – 8% of alcohol instead of the raucous 12% mixed with the Holocaust nectar of Four Loko.

It is a moral victory for Ellen Page and the Hurl Scouts. They lose the final game, but they never expected to make the finals to begin with, so there is always next year. And with that, I can take that moral victory as well because maybe this time next year when the fictional Ellen Page is playing in a fictional finals again of roller derby that no one will care about Four Loko anymore. It’s not like sports stadiums are going to start selling it. You cannot eat a hotdog and drink a Four Loko at the same time. You cannot eat a cheesesteak drinking a melted down bag of jolly ranchers mixed with battery acid. You will not see Four Loko served as an alternative to a Bloody Mary or a mimosa at brunch.

As Ellen Page looks optimistically into the future of her life in Austin, Texas as a part-time professional roller derby girl, I guess I need to leave my cynicism aside and remember that Four Loko is a fad. And hopefully, some old drunk will take all the new drunks under their vodka soaked wings and teach them that you need to forgo the flashing lights of the Four Loko for a longer much more mature drinking experience of the time tested draught beer and Jameson or something similar.