Jeff “Brosie” Rosenberg downs ice, courtesy of an ice block by KevinLast week Murph alerted us to a new drinking game called Bros Icing Bros. The rules are as follows (via BrosIcingBros.com):
- Buy Smirnoff ice, present it to one of your bro’s in any manner, your bro must instantly get…
this kid scares the shit out of me…hahahah
iCarly star Reed Alexander’s cooking segment on The Today Show.
Holy fucking shit.
remember when we used to play telephone?
we’d sit in a line, the first person whispering their secret phrase into the ear of their neighbor. one by one, the whisper is carried down the line, getting tweaked little by little—due partly to miscommunication, & mainly to silliness, sending sniggers and “what?!“‘s down the queue till the final person speaks the phrase out loud, warranting a burst of giggles from the whole group as the salvaged message is compared to the original. for me, most of the time, the fun of the game is in the cheating: the intentional ambiguity and slight alterations in our mumbles, to get the final product as far off as possible…
or sometimes the fun of the game comes simply from stolen closeness to the person you love.
in real life my boyfriend is a businessman. a corporate fatcat, if you will. in monopoly, he’s much of same. he makes manipulative, calculating business deals with unsuspecting players and monopolizes the board with hoards of his hotels and houses. he’s all smiles & smirks, as we pitifully shell out our precious gold 500’s for deposit into his overflowing pile of paper riches. little by little, ruby, kunal, & rahul are all knocked out of the game, and he finally depletes my side with not so much as a bit of regret.
caring boyfriend my ass.
…when he’s sent to jail i am jubilant. can’t help but document the moment.
