Monday, September 04, 2006

That's like Donald Rumsfeld...

I want you to understand something: The Insomnia Report does not advocate, encourage or partake in drinking games. They are dangerous and embarrassing, and—if they must be played—they should only be played with non-alcoholic beverages such as Diet Coke, which is a delicious and nutritionally-sound thirst quencher. Rum, gin, whiskey, scotch, tequila, and beer—these are serious liquids and should only be consumed seriously. I mean it. Sure, it might seem like a innocent fun to quaff some booze everytime the AC/DC guy screams “Thunderstruck!” or as a way to confess all the naughty things you’ve done, but it’s really not. It’s a one-way ticket to the bathroom floor, the hospital, and/or the therapy couch. Drinking games are bad news. Don’t let yourself be pressured into playing them. You’ve been warned.

That being said, let me tell you people about the new beverage-centered party activity I invented today while waiting for my latte to be assembled. What you do is get a group of friends: anything from four to fifty-eight people should do. Have everybody sit in a circle with a hearty glass of their preferred liquid. One person is designated the speaker, and everybody else fills their mouth with a big gulp of their drink. They don’t swallow it right away, however, because before they can the speaker has one minute to come up with a horrifying, tasteless, indecent statement beginning with the line “That’s like Donald Rumsfeld...”. You see, the goal is to be as repulsive and/or as ridiculous as possible so as to get as many players as you can to spit their drinks all over themselves and everyone else. How can hilarity not ensue? Hilarity will be inevitable, I think.

Here’s some examples of what someone could say...

That’s like Donald Rumsfeld slipping into your bedroom at night dressed only in pair of camoflage-patterned bikini panties and slowly caressing your nipples with his rough, cat-like tongue as the music of Air Supply plays gently in the background...

or...

That’s like Donald Rumsfeld eating a bunch of barbeque pork and not being very careful about it so there’s just gallons of sauce and gristle and fat oozing down his chin and dripping onto the ground where gigantic rats and raccoons lick it up and then roll onto their bellies in orgasmic bliss as the Secretary of Defense lets out belch after belch after belch, all of them smelling sort of like Old Spice aftershave...”

or...

That’s like Donald Rumsfeld not flushing after he’s through with the Pentagon toilet and a few minutes later a general walks in and he thinks that someone’s released a chemical weapon so they lock down the whole place, but after they figure out what happened they just use their fancy tools to cut that particular toilet out of the building and ship it to Iraq and then everyone who’s been fighting us over there surrenders that very day, begging us to take Donald Rumsfeld’s nasty, unflushed floaters out of their country as soon as possible...

The possibilities are endless. The speaker gets a point for each player who spits, chokes, or gags on their drink. Everyone else has to swallow theirs. After this, the chance to make up Donald Rumsfeld slander passes to the next player in the circle and the process repeats. The game ends when someone reaches ten points or everyone gets bored with it, whichever comes first.