New Year's Drunken Essay Contest

To honor the spirit of the title of this blog, I have come up with an "I Wrote This When I Was Drunk on New Year's Eve" essay contest. If you can recall any of the events of your New Year's celebration, write about it and submit it for Paulie's amusement. If you can't recall anything, you can either post a copy of the police report or make something up. Paul will pick the winner but will NOT post bail for anyone. Good luck and Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanza, and Festivus

Happy Holidays, whichever one you observe. In this age of political correctness, I find an ever increasing attraction to Frank Costanza's home-made holiday, Festivus. "A Festivus for the rest of us!" Frank would proclaim. Since Seamhead has been mistaken for George Costanza on occasion, he probably already celebrates the holiday. With the ceremonial "Airing of Grievances" and "Feats of Strength", I'm sure he looks forward to this time of year more than any of us. And yes, I found a web site where you can buy an official Festivus Pole. Six feet of 100% pure Alcoa Aluminum. Now that's the good stuff.

The Newest Violent Farmer (Its official!)

As if I had been knighted by the Queen of England herself, Paul invited me to become a contributor to his blog. "It will be my distinct honor so serve you, your Majesty," I said to her. She was not a pretty woman, but I felt oddly attracted to her none the less. It did seem strange that she looked Chinese, and had a goatee; but then again I had been drinking for quite a while. We both had. The next morning when I woke up in her four post bed, her man-servant brought me a bloody mary. "Thanks," I sheepishly responded. He said, "I haven't seen him quite this happy in ages. Thank you so much." I suddenly realized that I had in fact slept with a hairy Chinese man while in a drunken stupor. Boy, was I embarrassed! I had to get out of there fast. Paul had already left for work so while I stuffed my wadded up underwear into the bottom of my man-purse I decided to sneak out the back door with what little dignity I had left. The End.

Drunken Resolution

I have a confession. I haven't gotten drunk in a while. I think this has definitely put a damper on the creative spot in my brain, so I have decided to take an idea from Travis, and do a Blog New Years Resolution.

So here it is:

1) I resolve to get drunk
2) I also resolve to meet one new person while I'm drunk and write about them on the blog at least once a week.


These may sound like stupid resolutions to you, but in reality they are quite ingenious. First of all I'll be drunk which is never bad until the next day, second I'll have something to freaking blog about, and third It's an awesome way to meet chicks. I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier.

Nipin Out

It's done. I've put all the ideas together and add some of my own and have completed the Nipple song. As you all know I'm Irish, so I made it into a kind of Irish drinking song, so when your reading it pick up a beer and sway and you will get the basic idea. I am trying to get it recorded this week, and I will let you know when I post it on my MYSPACE site so you can all hear how it sounds. I haven't named the song yet so if any one has any ideas let me know.

Here you go the very first Violent Farmer drunken blog contribution song:



I met a girl at the bar one day
She ordered a drink and I offered to pay
She looked kind of cold with her high beams a glarin
Then she noticed my eyes on her nipples just starin
She said if you like these than you'll love Mary my mom
Because hers must span at least an inch and a half long

Tru lay- tru lie
Where have I been?
Your moms got the longest nipples I've seen

If your mom was a waitress making a living off tips
She'd make more cash stirring drinks with her nips
Something to grab when reaching from the back
Like a set of handlebars on the front of that rack
Their big and they bounce and pointy and perky
Their just like those contraptions that pop out of a turkey

Tru lay- tru lie
What in the world
Your moms got the longest milk dribblers my girl

She has to carry insurance in case she makes cripples
Out of people getting poked in the eye with her nipples
If she twirled them with pasties like some dancers do
They would look like propellers on a B-52
They're long not large if you get my gist
Like the index finger on a midget's fist

Tru lay- tru lie
Please let's not quibble
Because there's room for us all on your moms long ass nipple

I'd look her in the eye if she got those out of mine
But if she doesnt care then I guess that's just fine

Tru lay- tru lie
Where have I been?
Your moms got the longest nipples I've seen
Tru lay- tru lie
What in the world
Your moms got the longest milk dribblers my girl
Tru lay- tru lie
Please let's not quibble
Because there's room for us all on your moms long ass nipple




(Sorry if I couldn't fit all the ideas into the song, but they all had me rolling)