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January 2004 archive
: January 2004 Archives

The First Annual Super Bowl Weekend Team Keg Drain LIVE DRAFT

That's right bitches, I'm back and I'm back at it harder than I've been back at it before. Not even my 48 hours of straight up vertigo will stop me from bringing this to you. Last night was the live draft for the Team Keg Drain that will take place tonight. Now let's break it down. Hit it!

Ed Brookover the Third is the team captain of the Naked Ladies aka the Drinky McDrinkersons or whatever other bullshit he wants to pull out of his ass, and MJ Teggy directs the Anti-Sellouts on the path to victory. Michael Patrick Keown does what he does best at assuming the position as commissioner. Let's go over the rules.

  • Each team has a keg that will be tapped at 8 pm sharp tonight. Nicole asked what happens if you are late... and I put her in her place by explaining that the beer just doesn't get dranken and Asian Lindsey will have to pick up the slack. Now, now we don't want a catastrophe on our hands.
  • Only 3 vomits are allowed per team until a 1-minute-everyone-on-the-team-must-stop-drinking penalty. Oh, and puking is only allowed outside... no portable projectile canisters permitted.
  • All cups must never leave the main rooms of the house. For example, we don't want any player bringing a full cup to the bathroom and then peeing in the cup and then walk out with a cup overflowing onto the kitchen floor. That is not just messy, but bad for team morale.
  • No drinking devices or keg stands allowed. This includes but is not limited to: beer bongs, funnels, and keg stands. idiot. This wastes beer, and you are a fucking cheater.
  • All players must pay an entry fee of 5 dollars to cover the expenses of the beer, solo cups, team uniforms, and sawdust to spread on the vomit.
  • The team who finishes their own keg first is recognized as the winner. The winning team gets the entry fees from the losing team... so basically the winners don't have to pay the 5 bucks. The end.


Tha Commissiona:
Michael Patrick Keown acts at the announcer, the organizer, the commissioner, and the racial joke slinger all packaged into 195 pounds of raw Irish manmeat.

Team Captains:
Mark Teggetoth, the fine brother of that even finer and extremely flexible gymnast, is the mastermind and driving force behind the BLACK TEAM, THE ANTI-SELLOUTS!


*team name subject to change, as fucking if.



Since Ed tried to drink his beer really slow in a face-off with Teggy to see who gets first pick, it came back to blow up in his face. The beginning of his team's and personal downfall. Ed got stuck with the first pick while Teggy ran away with the next two. Here we go!

Big TOM ABBOT! The big loud tie-wearing gentle giant is a strong pick in anyone's eyes. Rumor has it he can drink like a fish. A motherfucking teeny sardiney.

Sir Shaun Staunton, Mr. 3 dolla per swalla, the King himself. Not even the HPD on Halloween could rattle his bones as he was thrown in jail dressed up as Elvis Presley. He's gotta drink like a race horse's gotta piss.


Teggy and the Anti-Sellouts got the first pick of the second round, and it alternates each subsequent round. Got it yet, commie?

Michael Patrick Keown! Mr. public relations coming atcha as the first pick of the second round. Definitely a great choice... I'd even go as far to say an even better pick than all of Ed's picks combined. As far as not sucking goes.

Dave Woodsy, my calculus buddy. Enrolled in drinking rehabilitaton programs required once a week for breaking some funny alcohol law. Heads straight to the bar after the meetings. Solid pick.


Brad Martelo, aka MEAT. Drinks until inebriated, then proceeds to beat the shit out of townie's windshields and other stuff. Daily.

SMATTY MCSMAT! Yours truly got picked as the sixth overall choice. Same number pick as sports superstars Shane Battier and Torry Holt. Will not disappoint. No, really.


The one and only Joe McHale, director of Alumni Relations. Drove down from D.C. to partake in the mission known as Operation Destroyed. (Destroy ED Brookover the Third).

Ed went out on a limb with his 4th pick, choosing somebody he doesn't know real well, but anyone with a beard is sure to hold their ground. I'm working on my five o'clock shadow. Rusty makes a nice addition to the Drinky McDrinkersons.


While I no longer remember the correct draft order, Ryan Gray, my twin, my long lost bitch bitch bitch shit bitch can fill in as the unknown choice. Anyone who works at a bar and sips Cristal with Robin Leech can handle a little Natty splatty.

Angel, the block's long lost Mexican amigo drove down from his internship in D.C. just to help the Anti-Sellouts kill that keg first in his first appearance back at JMU in the new year. YEAAAAAAAAAAAH.


Since I do not know what order everyone else is in, I will just wing it and let you know who is on whose team.

Ed's pick which surprised the world, picking a female...what? yes, I couldn't believe it either... a girl... wait.. just wait a minute... a GIRL in a drinking contest? Yes I shit you not... wait, she probably doesn't even have a penis?

Everyone's favorite terrorist, Piyum bin Laden is chosen as a sleeper pick for the Anti-Sellouts. Black is a great color to hide in dark places such as closets or under blankets, as well as one to drink in.

NO PICTURES LEFT: Due to death of my digital camera battery and lack of will to waste pictures on such low draft picks.


Jenny I
Sweet Stine Backdoor Queen
Ashley the stupid slut
Joy Jiggilo Male Jiggilo
Jason the Sensation
I forget


Shaggy John
Oh, yeah and Asian Lindsey
I forget


I, being biased against the Drinky McDrinkersons because I am competing against that shit of a team, will take an unbiased view of this event.

Word has gotten out that my team has been labeled as the "underdog." I think it's just lowsy intimidation tactics being used by the opponent to try and psych us out, or fulfill their needs to enjoy the sweet taste of false hope being labeled as the "predicted favorite" before being dealt a crushing defeat.

Sure, they have Big Tom and Rusty, who can probably kill half the keg themselves, but you also got Ed to balance it out. ZING. Woodsy, Meat, James, and Ryan Gray round out the solid core of the team. The rest are just mindless pawns.

The Anti-Sellouts are stacked with the strong leadership and drinking ability of Teggy. Not to mention Shaun fuckin Staunton who can outdrink anybody in this room, piss all over the place, and do it again. MPK was born with alcohol running through his veins, and I was born with fetal alcohol syndrome. Joe McHale, Billiams, Shaggy John, Burnsy, Piyum, the list goes on and on of high quality liver cirrhosisers.


ANTI-SELLOUTS prevail as victors. Upon realizing their defeat, the Drinky McDrinkersons will attempt to sabatoge and/or bitch about the official results. MPK will put them in their place and probably kick Ed in the face.


Posted by Smit at 01:02 PM | Comments (0)

Paris Hilton holla

I am still getting a decent amount of Paris Hilton requests, and while I do not have any pictures or videos on my site, you can find the video and tons of other celebrities at here.

I'm making a new layout for this site as well as getting another one up soon. Should be by the end of the weekend at latest. Patience my people.

Posted by Smit at 05:31 PM | Comments (0)


This past Saturday, I decided to make a spur-of-the-moment trip down two hours south on I-81 with Stine and Joy to the friendly city of Radford, home of Radford University. Radicalford, Radtown, Badford, whatever the hell you wanna call it, I was there and not passed out for the short stay.

I normally sip on my 375 ml sweet nectar Jagermeister and down a few cheap beers to end my night feeling pretty good, but this evening was extra special. Not only did I finish my freakin flippin green bottle of death in an hour's time, but I decided to succumb to roommates' wishes to take rounds and rounds of shots of spiced rum and fruity test tube shots to add to the mix. This is only the pregaming stage.

We get to the party, a celebration for the 21st birthday of an old friend, and not even twenty minutes later I'm struggling to find a bedroom floor to lay on and a cardboard box to puke into and sleep next to. All this before 11 pm.

I wake up at 9 am, completely disoriented and dizzy, covered in flour (I got antiqued, happens to the best of us), still laying next to my box of regurgitated French onion Swiss dip Arby's sandwich complete with curly fries and horseradish. It's snowing outside, and I hitch a ride with a nice girl who has no idea who I am, all the way to where my friends and toothbrush were. We left immediately to head back north and beat the snow.

Now I hate hearing about how incredibly wasted people claim to be just like next guy but for the first time in my life, I am proud ashamed proud to say that I have no recollection of taking any pictures at the party. Now, now I remember some of them that are in the gallery and had a fantastic time being in them and taking those pictures, but for the actual pictures of the party, I'm sorry I don't know anything about them. I do not know the majority of the people that I snapped mugs of but I want to thank you for taking the time to pose or let me take their photo.

Bah well, this site has basically turned into a shrine to college parties and drinking, taking it back to it's roots for once, but really it's all I have the will to post anymore. No need to get nasty, come over and I'll buy you a beer.

Hi mom and dad.

Click my face to look at pictures.

Posted by Smit at 01:22 AM | Comments (0)

Happy New New Year 2004

Last night, 1145 J had it's second annual New Year's Eve party. Complete with 3 kegs of cheap beer, 6 bottles of cheaper champagne, and scantly clad cheap whores. Jayfuckingkay ladies, I love you all.

Steve cut his hand on some foreign object and constantly rubbed it on the ceiling. Hence the blood on the ceiling.

Kids kept using the kegbathroom to pop squats, and I definitely wasn't having any of that. Hence the fist sized hole in the door and busted lock.

I do not have the strength or straight vision to write anymore. Enjoy the 91 pictures in the 6 page gallery. Click the image below.

Posted by Smit at 01:13 PM | Comments (11)

Green Eggs and Sam Music Video!

OW owww! Over Christmas break, Sam of Green Eggs and Sam made a visit back to his hometown after being away for nine months in the military. And the fellas at obtained EXCLUSIVE footage of a rare unplugged performance of GAS' smash hit "Get Your Timing Right." And I took this raw and uncut video to my Mac Powerbook to produce this amazing hi tech music video! Including a fade-in, title, and a fade-out! Look out Reiefenstahl, I'm going places.

You must have Quicktime to view the video. Stay tuned for more incredibleness.

Posted by Smit at 05:51 PM | Comments (1)

The digit seven in the movie title SE7EN does not look like a V.

A few days ago, I posted the picture of Elecia Battle, the woman who claimed that she had purchased the winning Ohio lottery ticket. Turns out the bitch was lying and was only saying it was hers to get a share of the money to "help out her family." Also turns out that she has a rap sheet pages long that date back over a decade. Check out The Smoking Gun's detailed report.

Also, check out's hilarious post about the history of the Brawny man. Ciao.

Posted by Smit at 09:39 PM | Comments (0)

Parade of Champions

In case you've never read or heard of Parade magazine, I'll tell you. It's an insert into the Sunday newspaper in most major cities and towns. There's always a section where kids write in answers and opinions to a lady who asks interesting or controversial questions. I just so happened to be glancing through the mag a a few years ago when I saw the question, "How did you get your screen name?" I wrote her a real quick two sentence email with my answer. Lucky for me, I got picked. She called me and verified the information as correct. I then received a certificate and a tee-shirt in the mail. Motherbitches. Go ahead and read all the responses.

Soon after the publication, I got swarmed with instant messages from preteen girls and homosexual guys who thought I was cute. I guess it didn't help that my comment was misquoted and really, really, really gay. It's supposed to read, "I saw Bwitched at a concert opening up for Smash Mouth and other bands, and they all waved to me. They were really hot and bangable." However, I got stuck with the comment in the paper, causing to me change screen names to the one I have today. Just think about it, this site could just as easily be

Now the reason I posted my Parade comment is that I found another one this past weekend that I just had to share. The topic was "Have you ever been a victim- or a bully?" There were the typical responses "People call me fat, I cry" or "Yeah, I punch fat kids, so what, fatty?" But in this sea of typicalness and redundancy, I came across a gem. His name is Daniel. Not only does he get bullied around and can't understand why, but this kid got OWNED in the ownedest way possible.

Haaaaaaaaa. Buy my car.

Posted by Smit at 04:06 PM | Comments (0)


Elecia Battle holds open her purse Monday, Jan. 5, 2004 in Cleveland. Battle told police she dropped the purse and lost the winning $162-million Mega Millions ticket as she left the Quick Shop Food Mart in South Euclid, Ohio. The lottery said last week that the winning ticket was sold at the store. (AP Photo/Tony Dejak)

Posted by Smit at 12:16 AM | Comments (0)


That's right folks, own a piece of history. I have made the decision to part with my baby, the 1991 Ford PIMPO. You better act quickly before I change my mind. Check the specs.

  • Genuine 1991 Ford Tempo, none of that fake Ford bullshit that we all know and hate.
  • 114,000 miles, the majority being highway mileage. Translation - many years of life left in this bad boy.
  • White. The same color affiliated with the lights in the heavens. Chances are you may or may not die in this vehicle, but at least it's your VIP pass to the afterlife.
  • No radio, tape player, CD player, or anything closely resembling any stereo equipment giving YOU valuable time to concentrate on the rattling sound of the muffler scraping across the asphalt.
  • Fake bullet hole decals which have been recognized by the Parade magazine as the worst auto accessory of the 2003, barely beating out rims, spoilers, loud mufflers, bumpin' subwoofers, and wiggers in souped up Civics.
  • Ice cream horn, complete with authentic police and emergency sirens, 46 ice cream man songs, animal sounds, a keyboard to make your own tunes, and a microphone to holla at the ladies down on the strip in Virginia Beach.
The Kelly Blue Book value of this vehicle is $386 dollars, but you know what, I will sell it to YOU for $500. That's not a misprint, 500 dollars to own a piece of history. It runs great and looks even greater. Serious bidders only. Pictures below.

I just took this front view of the monster hot ride Pimpo. I washed and waxed the exterior and vacuumed and wiped the red vinyl with my Armor All red vinyl wipes. Blang!

Five hundred dollars includes this space ALREADY designated for your audio system of choice. Don't let the man hold you down with pre-installed stereos.

See that black dot on the dash? Right above the state of the art cooling system? That, my friend, is a sticky piece of rubber just waiting for an air freshner or some other similar contraption to hide your weed.

The infamous bullet holes that turn heads and soil underwears. Now you can blend in with the thugs in downtown Richmond or Detroit driving a shitty car lit up by a Tech 9.

The keypad to the ice cream horn. Buy a 12 pack of fudge pops for 2 bucks on a hot summer day, play the horn, drive around the neighborhood slowly, watch kids run out with their life savings of coins, lure them to the car, open the fudge pop, eat it yourself, punch the brat in between the eyes, and peel out as the mother reports a suspicious vehicle talking to and punching kids in the neighborhood. Repeat the next day in a different neighborhood. Mad props if repeated the same day and/or the same neighborhood.

Now, come on. 500 dollars really is not THAT much money, especially for a quality vehicle that gets EXCELLENT gas mileage. It's perfect for high school students or even local college kids. I would not lie about that. I would still be driving it 2 hours one way to my college town up in the mountains if it weren't for my brand new Rodeo. HOT SHIT. Spread the word, and I'll pay you the difference if you find a buyer willing to spend more than the base price of 500. Email me with any questions.

Posted by Smit at 08:03 PM | Comments (1)

LSU - BCS and NCAA Champions!

Exactly what I feared and figured with my luck would happen: USC and all the Pac-10 crybabies would beat Michigan, and Oklahoma would fall in the BCS championship. Jason White and his slow ass definitely did not put up his Heisman-like numbers tonight, and LSU's blitzkreig defense just proved overwhelming. I'd love to see a LSU vs. USC game, but since it'll never happen, here are dogs dressed as superheroes.


Posted by Smit at 12:19 AM | Comments (0)

Philly Cheese Steak! Philly Cheese Steak!

Recently, I have been doing nothing but hanging out with my nicka Sam, whom I haven't seen in 9 months due to his service in the military, and all my friends to celebrate the four weeks of holiday break drunken fun. I also got a new digital camera that I carry on my person at all times in a camera fanny pack attatched to my belt. Which is why I will present these three pictures as a tease in prelude to a massive written and photograph ridden update full of stories like Dan's rottweiler Rusty digging out used condoms in the trash can, eating them, and puking them out the next morning. I have pictures, of course. TEASE TIME.

Say hello to Sam. Hello Sam. I am working on the music videos for his band Green Eggs and Sam. Enjoy the mp3s for now: Spontaneous and Get Your Timing Right.

Danielle and Kathy made out the entire night, and I was just so lucky to catch them in the beginning stages of a steamy night of raw lesbian sex. That may or may not be my younger brother in the background.

Here am I being the best bartender at 1329 roadnamewithheld road. Exclusive closeup brought to you by yours truly.

Whew, I am out of breath. I have not done this much typing in weeks, and my right knee and left quad are sore from strenuous nights of all-you-can bowl specials with no closing times at bowling alleys that close at 12:45 am. I lead a rough and tough existence.


Posted by Smit at 02:49 PM | Comments (0)
SmitCam 5.7.05

SamCam 12.2.04


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