THIRSTY THURSDAY

By III, wald66@hotmail.com

It’s that special time of week where college students, young professionals, distressed husbands/fathers and, yes, even the celebrities of the world forget about life for a second and just go get hammered. Since I, myself, have been thirsty on Thursdays for quite some time now, I have taken it upon myself, as an expert, to search for the professional athlete, movie star, musician, etc. that is most likely to be seen at the happy hour special down the street, hitting on bartenders and puking in bathroom stalls. I will suggest a specific number of drinks for each of these lucky persons that will allow them to either drown away their sorrows or soak up their week’s successes.

So take a break from creeping on MySpace for a second and see who’s getting Piss-Ass on Thirsty day.


Ozzie Guillen

What does Ozzie have to do to get one of his pitchers to hit someone with a baseball? Are pitchers allowed to get any closer to the batters, like in 6 year-old “T-ball� when some kid’s Dad would come out and throw from 3 feet away? Jon Garland can pick an inch-wide corner on the side of home plate, but he has trouble hitting a 6-4, 225 pound guy in the batter’s box. Ozzie looked furious at the White Sox’s ace after that debacle. I couldn’t make out what was being said, but I’m pretty sure the word “faggot� was used more than a few times. Can you imagine if Ozzie Guillen had been a pitcher back in his playing days? I would be willing to bet that the games would have taken on more of a dodgeball-type feel than actually trying to hit the ball and run around the bases. Runs would be awarded for hit batsmen, errors given to those who miss. I think I may be on to something here. Until that day comes, however, Ozzie can toss water bottles on the ground, demote his pitchers, or head down to McGee’s for dollar drinks and your ex-girlfriend’s new lifestyle. I’m suggesting 7.5 beers for Ozzie because he looks like he’s two steps away from being a full-blown alcoholic, and 5 just won’t do it. Maybe even a shot of Tequila for good measure. WTF, Oz, nibble one of your son’s ears, whisper sweet nothings, and make him wish he never lost his V-Card to Kody Clemens.


Alex “Limp-Rod� Rodriguez

The two biggest stories in sports right now – Barry Bonds on steroids and Alex Rodriguez’s slump. As much as I love to see Gay-Rod be hated on in every aspect of his game, I think the media is blowing this one out of proportion. I mean, the guy just got his 2000th hit, and all the media can talk about is how bad he sucks now and how everyone hates him and how Iraq is his fault and how Lance Bass would still be straight had he not been hit with one of Alex’s errant throws. Personally, I’ve thought he’s sucked for a long time, so this is no surprise to Yours Truly. But the people of New York, who claim to have an undying passion for their team, have loved A-Rod since he’s gotten there. So the guy has made a few errors and his bat seems to be avoiding the ball like its got herpes? When you’re all-star is in a bad way, you don’t beat him down mercilessly. You nurse him back to health like the little girl that he is, Johnny Damon style. Maybe treat him and Jeter to an all-day spa treatment – massages, facials, maybe re-frost those tips. Or maybe he just needs a good ol’ fashioned apple martini. I’m suggesting A-Rod go out to one of those trendy gay bars in New York, and order himself a nice Grey Goose martini to celebrate his 2000th hit. And then 2 more to make him forget about playing like Ozzie? That’s right, like a Faggot. Don’t worry, it means something different in my home country of Nicaragua.


Paris Hilton

Since I’ve been writing for Rivalfish, I have stuck completely to sport issues. However, I have finally been given a green light to step out of the sporting world for a second and delve into the realm of Skanky Hollywood. Finally, I get to vent my anger and frustration towards one of my most hated individuals of all-time. When elections for President come about in '08, I honestly think one of the major issues, along with the War and the Economy, is how each man intends to handle the catastrophe that is Paris Hilton and her wretched, claw-lined red-snapper. I hate that tiny dog that she brings around like it is an addition to her purse or a kidnapped Peruvian. I hate that she’s banged more dudes that Derek Jeter and A-Rod combined. I hate The Simple Life more than any other television show ever made, especially since there’s no more near-infected-taco-bumping moments between Paris and Nicole. Paris Hilton is all that is wrong with society, if you exclude orphans. I’m having trouble figuring out how many drinks to assign to Ms. Hilton, because I have a feeling she could drink an entire frat house under the table and then finish them all off quicker than Shane’s World on its best day. So, I’m going to suggest that she first take 3 Vicodin before heading out, followed by 10 beers and 4 shots of Jager. That’ll put her out at least till she’s 50 when her breasts sag to the floor and her ass turns to a Jello mold. Maybe that’ll force some good nature into her…alright, make it 10 Jager shots and a full Scope bottle of GHB.

"Who else needs to get Roofied, Wasted, Zapped, Sped, Lowed, Highed, Rolled, Tripped, or BOOMED?" - Rival Room Editor