The Bengals are at home, talented, healthy, and pissed. The Rams are
poorly-coached, their QB is a stiff who lost his job to Case freakin' Keenum,
their receivers are awful, their O-line is practice squad-quality, and
the only unit on their team that could be considered a strength at this
point (D-line) is banged up and lining up against a stout Cincy O-line.
The only way things could be worse is if...oh, I don't know...one of
their teammates was nearly murdered or something. What makes you think that Rams will rebound in this spot?
I don't think those things are a big deal though. After all, old ladies fall down all of the time, so she undoubtedly was used to that. Plus, it would have been demeaning if I had helped her up. How would her self-confidence ever grow if people didn't let her get up on her own? And as for the cake, well, it had Oreo filling. It wasn't my fault that I stole all of those pieces. If it didn't have Oreo filling, I wouldn't have done that. I blame society for making Oreo-filled cakes.
I did perform a truly selfish act last week though when I wrote about my local bar Tango closing for good. All I did was whine about how I wouldn't have a place to drink on weekends, but that was exactly the problem - all I was doing was thinking about myself. What about all of the other Tango patrons? What would become of them?
Of course, the few normal people who went to Tango won't have any problems finding a new hangout, but what about all of the Tango jerks I've written about over the years? They're so strange that they'll have extreme difficulty locating a new bar. The following characters in my previous Jerks of the Week entries are undoubtedly distraught about Tango's closing:
Tango Stalker - A creepy guy who stalked girls and made Alan Rickman impressions for me in the bathroom.
Christmas Tree Man - A guy who complimented my friend Adrienne by saying that she looked like a Christmas tree.
Racist KKK Bikers - Douche bags who nearly jumped my friend Josh because they thought he was Jewish when he wouldn't give them money.
Drunkest Woman Ever - An incredibly intoxicated woman who charged $1.75 for blowjobs in the parking lot.
What will happen to these people? Fortunately, I have the answers. Using my powers of divination, I've seen what will become of these individuals. Here's where they will be in the year 2020:
1. Band Breakup
John Lennon's quest to become the world's most renowned DJ was a failure back in 2012. The effort was there, as he attempted to provide Tango's most devoted with some entertainment on several weekend nights, but two things stood in the way:
1. Being a loyal Tango patron, John Lennon always received cheap drinks. He would often consume too much alcohol, which derailed his music career.
2. He wasn't much of a solo act; he needed to be part of a quartet to be extremely successful.
In the wake of Tango's closing, John Lennon was actually sober on most nights for the first time in his adult life. He worked harder on his music than ever before. He then formed a band with Kissy Man, Jealous Mexican and Christmas Tree Man.
"Working with those guys in the early days was something special," Lennon reminisced. "It was something new and exciting every single day. The music we came up with - we were definitely ahead of our time."
The new band, calling itself the Ladybugs, released its first album in December 2014. A few months later, they were a huge hit. They toured across the globe and developed a cult following. Millions of girls threw themselves at them. Kissy Man would blow kisses at those women, while Jealous Mexican would leer in envy.
By the time 2018 rolled around, the Ladybugs were on top of the world. Their latest album, Red Tugboat, sold one trillion copies. But that was the band's zenith. It all went downhill from there, and musical historians say that the decline began on a warm summer night in 2018. According to multiple accounts, John Lennon was playing the guitar on his front porch when a smelly woman in her 50s approached him, asking for directions and for sex. The exchange went like this:
John Lennon: You drank so much that you've been inebriated for more than five years? Highly impressive! Let's make haste to my bedroom!
John Lennon would marry Smelly Cougar several months later. Though this made the couple very happy, the other band members weren't as pleased, lamenting that Smelly Cougar was sapping Lennon's musical creativity.
Jealous Mexican: I don't like this one bit, John. Our songs suck now. And why didn't you get a significant other for me?
John Lennon: Stop being jealous, a**hole. No one asked you.
Kissy Man: It's true. Our sales are declining and our groupies are dispersing. I didn't even blow any kisses yesterday.
John Lennon: Sales will pick up. With Smelly Cougar by my side, we'll sell more records than ever before.
By Thanksgiving 2020, the Ladybugs had broken up. And now it's official that they're not getting back together again. On Dec. 8, 2020, John Lennon was shot in the head outside of his apartment. The culprit is still at large, but multiple witnesses told authorities that the shooter asked Lennon for cigarettes.
2. War Prep
The tragic end of the Ladybugs was just insult to injury for America, a country torn apart because of its ongoing war with the country of Mongolia.
Everyone knows the story by now. The Ambassador of Mongolia joined U.S. President Barack Obama for a night out in the spring of 2017. Instead of waiting for his drinks like a normal person, the Ambassador of Mongolia charged the bar and demanded to be served immediately. The bartender told him to wait his turn because he was giving drinks to hot chicks at the moment. The angry ambassador then declared war on America.
Obama, who recently used white guilt to give himself an unprecedented third term in office, tried to settle things peacefully between the ambassador and the bartender, but it was nickel-shot night, and there were tons of hot girls who needed alcohol.
At first, the public scoffed at this war. How could Mongolia possibly pose a threat to the United States? Well, the Mongolian military landed in Mexico and then used their Mongolian tactics to break down the border walls. They entered this country, raiding southern cities for women and gold.
Enough was enough. Obama had to strike back. So, he enlisted the help of America's chief jet-plane expert, (Formerly) Drunken Santa Claus, whose recent sobriety has helped him move up the Department of Defense's totem pole. Obama charged (Formerly) Drunken Santa Claus with building stealth jets capable of detonating isolated nukes, which are capable of killing only people who are a**holes in a certain location.
When (Formerly) Drunken Santa Claus finished, he approached Obama with the good news.
(Formerly) Drunken Santa Claus: Mr. President, I have constructed your stealth jets. Not only do they drop isolated nukes, they also have dispensers inside that generate unlimited candy canes.
Barack Obama: That's very good, Mr. (Formerly) Drunken Santa Claus. I have some news for you as well. I'm picking North Carolina, Kentucky, Duke and Central Michigan to reach the Final Four in my bracket.
(Formerly) Drunken Santa Claus: Those are all No. 1 seeds. And why are you telling me this?
Barack Obama: Because the NCAA Tournament takes precedent over anything. If my bracket is busted, I'll destroy everyone. I haven't won a damn office pool in 10 years.
White House Secretary: Excuse me, Mr. President, you have the Ambassador of Mongolia on Line 2.
Barack Obama: Thank you very much, Mr. Mata. Ambassador, how are you?
Ambassador of Mongolia: I HATE COUNTRY AMERICAN I GO TO BAR BARTENDER NO GIVE ME BEER RIGHT AWAY HE GIVE BEER TO FIVE GIRL FIRST!
Barack Obama: That's too bad, Mr. Ambassador. Now, before I nuke your country, let me ask you an important question. Whom did you pick in your bracket? I have North Carolina, Kentucky, Duke and Central Michigan in my Final Four, but I'm strongly considering Eastern Illinois, Tennessee State, USC and Tulane.
Ambassador of Mongolia: NO YOU MAKE BAD PICK YOU PICK ALL NO. 1 SEED AND CONSIDER ALL NO. 2 SEED I SOBER NOW I KNOW BAD PICK YOU NEED PICK SYRACUSE, GEORGETOWN, SANTA CLARA, WASHINGTON STATE.
Barack Obama: Those are all 4-6 seeds. And that, my ambassador friend, is the straw that broke the camel's back. I will now be nuking your country. Good riddance.
3. The Parking Lot
Not all of the Tango jerks had to give up drinking. A brand-new bar opened up in Northeast Philly in the fall of 2017. It became THE place to be. Even the parking lot was extremely fun.
The parking lot's primary attraction was none other than Drunkest Woman Ever. Formerly known as a disgusting female who charged $1.75 for blow jobs, Drunkest Woman Ever disappeared for several years to undergo intense blow-job training. She gave the best head known to man. Unfortunately, she increased her price from $1.75 to $550 per session.
One particular evening, Drunkest Woman Ever was approached by someone familiar.
Drunkest Woman Ever: Heeeyyyyzzzz I reccccugggnnizzzeee yeewwww frrrrommmm Ttaannngggogogogo.
Tango Stalker: Did you ever realize how ugly you look when you pick your nose?
Tango Stalker: So, I have to ask you a serious question. Did you ever see that Family Guy episode where they made fun of Alan Rickman? Because I do the best Alan Rickman impressions. I'll perform them for you if you lower your asking price.
Tango Stalker: "My name... is..." Oh, this was when Alan Rickman recorded a voicemail message from the future. "My name... is..." Oh, and keep in mind that Alan Rickman of the present is calling the Alan Rickman of the future. It went like this: "My name... is... Alaaaan... Riiiickmaaan..."
Tango Stalker: But don't you really enjoy my Alan Rickman impressions? Alaaaaaaan Riiiickmaaaaaan... Alaaaaaaan Riiiickmaaaaaan...
Drunkest Woman Ever hastily took some pills out of her pocket, shoved them down her throat and then washed them down with an insane amount of alcohol. She overdosed quickly, and the authorities were there shortly afterward.
Police Officer: You, the weirdo with the black coat, did you witness anything?
Tango Stalker: No, but I give a mean Alan Rickman impression. Alaaaaaaan Riiiickmaaaaaan... Alaaaaaaan Riiiickmaaaaaan...
Five minutes later, the police officer killed himself as well.
The double suicide outside of this bar didn't affect its revenue stream. As I said, this became THE place to be. In the past, people from Northeast Philadelphia would travel into the city to experience the downtown bar scene, but those who lived in Center City would actually venture to the Northeast on a weekly basis just to go to this new, hip bar.
The bar is called Blondtender's, owned by the Blondtender, as you may have guessed. The Blondtender won the lottery in 2016. Upon claiming more than a million dollars, she recalled something a coworker of hers once said: "If I had a million dollars, I wouldn't open up a bar in Northeast Philly." To that, the Blondtender simply said, "Challenge accepted."
The Blondtender bought a vacant building soon after receiving her lottery check. She renovated the place, acquired a liquor license and advertised the hell out of her new bar, promising that she wouldn't have any loud, obnoxious bands, and that she would hire the racist KKK bikers to ward off authorities who forced her to close the bar at 2 a.m. Blondtender's was an instant smash hit.
Unfortunately, awesome bars tend to attract the wrong kind of people as well. Before long, Melvis, Slav and Frederico learned of Blondtender's. They would show up sporadically, grabbing random boobs throughout the night. The Blondtender would scare them away by raping them with a cucumber, but Melvis and Slav devised a plan against this.
Melvis: Oh Slav, I very scare of Blondtenders, she stick giant cucumber in anoos. Still very hurt.
Slav: I know, Melvis. Is very pain. I no understand vhy Blondtenders no like vhen vee touch boob.
Melvis: Yes, Slav, I read in magazine American girl like touch in boob.
Slav: I make plan, Melvis. I know how stop Blondtenders.
Melvis: Bravo, Slav. How can make stop?
Slav: Vhy, vee have Frederico. He can eat cucumber so no more cucumber in anoos.
Frederico: Oh no, Slav, I no like cucumber. Iz green and no taste good.
Slav: Iz OK, Frederico. Make pretending cucumber is chocolate torte.
Frederico: Frederico love chocolate torte.
Slav: Yes, Frederico, you vill eat chocolate torte and zen Melvis and Slav touch girl boob again!
Sure enough, Melvis and Slav molested several girls at the bar that night. The Blondtender noticed this and reached for her trusty cucumber. Frederico, however, grabbed the cucumber out of the Blondtender's hands and quickly stuffed it into his mouth.
Blondtender: Hey, you ate my cucumber!
Frederico: Frederico love chocolate torte. NOM NOM NOM NOM.
Melvis and Slav proceeded to touch every breast in the bar that night - except for the Blondtender's. They were closing in on her when a giant man grabbed them by their shirts and tossed them out the door. The man was none other than the Blondtender's overprotective father.
Blondtender: Thanks, daddy!
Poppa Blondtender: No one blogs about my daughter and gets away with it!
Blondtender: Oh, they weren't blogging about me. They were just touching every gril's breast.
Poppa Blondtender: What? Then who's still writing about you on his stupid Web site?
The Blondtender pointed to a guy playing pool with his friends. "There he is! That's the guy who writes Jerks of the Week!" she exclaimed.
Poppa Blondtender grabbed this individual and tossed him out of the bar, shouting, "Don't come back here ever again!"
Damn it, that hurt. Ugh. I guess I'm going to have to find another bar yet again in 2020.