Geeks Who Drink - The Park Tavern & Restaurant

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The Park Tavern & Restaurant
931 E 11th Ave
Denver, CO 80218
Wednesdays: 8:00 PM

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1:48 PM, May 10, 2012


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Scores

Where the Wild Things Are Six Feet Under - 1st in OT	83

You PBS Motherfuckers!	83

Blathering Blatherskite	80

Dual Spiral	78

Too Much Drunk	78

Obama: The Best Thing to Happen to the Gays Since Vaseline	74

Seau My Chest Hurts	73

Blank	72

Coors Light? Yes please!	72

Dumb Cumsters	72

Smartacus	69

Disqualified	68

Pralines and Dick	68

Teachers Who Want to Tell Kids to Fuck Off (And Friends)	67

Sterling's Gold	65

222	60

On Golden Shower Pond	59

Manimal Crackers	54

Trivial Pursuit of Your Mom	48

Taco Taco Burrito	31

Jesus Looks Like a Lady

Quizmasters of the Universe

It was great being saved by those Christified song covers last night, wasn't it? Being bathed in the Light of the Lord felt glorious! That is until we were back to worshiping Lucifer and sacrificing infants by the end of Round 3. That Old Scratch, as much as I know he's bad for me, I just can't seem to quit him. He's just so adorable.

Sorry for getting all political on you guys for a second there last night. I have a tendency to get all worked up over Obama because I thought he was gonna change things but mostly they've just stayed the same as when that Texas asshole was in charge.

It must have been something in the air because post-quiz Josh Johnson and I kept talking about Big Serious Issues for the rest of the night while getting sloppy drunk. (Well, I was sloppy drunk, at least.) Seriously, we even talked about fucking 911 for like a half hour for some stupid reason. Maybe it's just the faint scent of apocalypse rolling in like a thunderstorm...

So remember that part when I was all like "If you forgot tampons, you can roll some sheets of scrap paper up and jam them up in your clam" last night? Well, that was a callback to this blog. Although in retrospect, I'm still pretty sure it was a completely unnecessary and inappropriate reference. Let's just all pretend it never happened, shall we?

Some serious scores happening last night. When a 78 doesn't even get you a money spot, you know shit is getting real. I'm also really digging the fact that there are a bunch of different teams all switching up the top spots. It's always a drag being at venues where the same team(s) wins every week *cough* Snug *cough*, so the level of competition here at Park Tavern is pretty great. And in that spirit, our first place tie went to Where the Wild Things are Six Feet Under. (Good job on the Maurice Sendak being dead reference, too, by the way.)

OK, I'm done with this blog. And although there weren't as many dick jokes as I promised last week, I'm sure I'll make up for it at some point in the future. I'll see you assholes next week. Unless, like always, the Clownpocalypse rains fiery, hilarious death upon us all. I pray that it does.

The Park Tavern & Restaurant
931 E 11th Ave
Denver, CO 80218
Wednesdays: 8:00 PM

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2:50 PM, May 03, 2012


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Scores

Pam the Yam	70

Lightning Crashes, An Old Charger Dies	69

Blathering Blatherskite	68

Madmen is Roots for White People	63

Jeff, Don't Be Angry	62

Sloiw Jam the Trivia	60

Pinky and the Brains	59

Thanks for Nothing	59

Butt Fucked by Bats	57

Gary	54

The Half Nelsons	51

Worst Team Ever	46

No More Ca-Cao!	46

FarmersOnly.com One Night Stand	44

Bob Blob Lobster Bib Blog	40

I Think We Finally Found "Too Soon"

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Geeks Who Drink teams are notorious for capitalizing on tragedy for the sake of comedic names. There's no such thing as "too soon" for the twisted minds who participate in this thing we do. Or at least that's what I thought until last night.

You see, a certain former NFL linebacker took his final shot to the chest yesterday, and in the wake of the tragedy, one of our teams took the opportunity to make an admittedly clever name from it. But when read allowed, Lightning Crashes, an Old Charger Dies elicited naught but silence from the room. No laughter, no boos, no ironic cries of "too soon" greeted their whip-smart name. Just an uncomfortable, awkward pall that blanketed the otherwise rowdy Park Tavern. It was weird. I can't even count the celebrities in the past year whose deaths have been fodder for bad jokes, but for whatever reason, Junior Seau's suicide was not found amusing.

So why, at an event that basically prides itself on turning tragedy into bad taste jokes, did this particularly well-crafted one go over like an unfunny Hindenburg?

I think there are a few reasons.

First, unlike Whitney Houston, Seau wasn't a fucking mess of a person, riding his demons straight into an inevitable oblivion. Not that Houston deserved to die face down in a bathtub filled with her own broken dreams, but it's not like it was exactly a surprise. Similarly, Steve Jobs had been fighting cancer for what seemed like an eternity, so his passing seemed like a foregone conclusion, as well. But Seau wasn't dying (that we know of) and wasn't a downward spiraling drug addict. He had, by most accounts, a healthy, active life, one that most 43-year-olds would have envied. And, y’know, he was probably still wealthy.

Second, despite what the M*A*S*H song says, suicide is never painless, at least not everything that leads up to it. People don’t normally kill themselves on a whim, so it can probably be assumed that Seau was going through some sad, sad shit in his world. And he was probably going through it for a long time. (There’s talk of brain damage, but I’ll get to that.) Anytime someone kills themselves there’s that hopeless feeling that accompanies it. Anyone with even the remotest amount of empathy can feel it. This wasn’t random, it wasn’t inevitable, it was most likely deliberate and considered. Relating to those feelings can be a tough realization to face.

Finally, and this is something I’ve been thinking more about since I learned more back story on it (thanks to Andy for filling me in), I think there’s something to the notion that this guy, one of the most accomplished defensive players of the last twenty years, kinda got chewed up and spit out by the engines of the professional football machine. I’m not going to get up on my soapbox constructed of morals about collision/concussive sports, because I'm as blood lusty as the next guy. But damn, lots of motherfuckers are getting brain damage from this game and Seau’s definitely not the first former player to off himself.

If it comes out that he did have some kind of brain damage-induced depression that contributed to his ultimate decision, then the NFL (and NCAA and whatever high school regulatory agencies handle this sort of thing) needs to seriously look at what it needs to do to protect the players that make their multibillion dollar industry possible. The thing that keeps going through my head is chewed the fuck up, and spit the fuck out, and if that’s the case, then that sucks and is maybe another reason why our normal detatched levity doesn't quite translate in this case.

Anyway, sorry for going on at way too much length about my opinions as to why people didn't find Lightning Crashes, an Old Charger Dies as amusing as it should have been. I myself recognize the craft in the name, but can't quite find a way to laugh at it. Maybe I'm getting old and whatever the reverse of jaded is. Sentimental?

I don't know, fuck it. This blog got way too serious. Next week it's nothing but vaginal discharge jokes throughout.

The Park Tavern & Restaurant
931 E 11th Ave
Denver, CO 80218
Wednesdays: 8:00 PM

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1:23 PM, April 26, 2012


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Scores

Blathering Blatherskite	91

Tip the Just	89

We're back! A Dinosaur Tale	84

E=McHammer	83

Two FBI Agents Named Johnson?	80

Adult Onset Fetal Alcohol Syndrome	79

More Arse Than Know	75

Natural	72

Big Bowl of Kix	69

Not Undead Yet!	68

Munchin McCoochie	64

Cheetos [Hearts] Malicki	61

Malt Whitmans	61

Tupac Chopra	57

Team Sweat Fortress	56

Late Night Tickle Fight	54

Gaaaary	52

Miss Michigan Plays Alone	51

JC and the Beasley's	48

2 Legit 2 Quiz

Quizmasters of the Universe

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2 FBI Agents Named Johnson? were not fans of Round 3.

Your cautionary tale from last night was Not Undead Yet! who, having incorrectly said "when" three times, lost three points on the round. Remember, kids, you might think you know the shit, but you also might want to hold off until your hear more than just Egyptian Temple. Man, just let one of the other overconfident teams fuck it up and lose a point.

Speaking of things some of you should have done differently, these are some of the scores from Round 4, only one of which jokered:

Oops.

Blathering Blatherskite got all the points last night and so I handed them the envelope that said "1st" in the tiniest handwriting. Also, I think it was just the two guys, so congratulations on that.

Let's take a moment to recognize all of the innocent bow ties brutally slaughtered by Stanley Spadowski. Or something, I wasn't really paying attention.

OK, I'm still in kind of a shit mood for no good reason. It happens once or twice a year. I'm gonna go see Jeff Mangum tonight which will either make me feel better or send me into a full-blown depression; it's even money, really. Be careful out there, the bullshit index is going to be high this weekend. Try not to die before next week.

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