The Four Lokos of the Apocalypse

A shortage is a shortage, whether it's water or grain-stores or penis size, just ask any Egyptian. But what do you do if you're short energy, alcohol and cash?

Yes, you could leave grape juice out until it turns into something more bitter, mix in some sugarlumps, and call it sippable. Why bother? Haven't you ever heard of Four Loko? It's only $2.49.

The Stockpiling Begins...

Submitted by Anonymous in Durham

Four Loko is due to be banned in North Carolina

Even if you have heard of it, it's too late to buy any. Many states have banned the caffeinated, heroin-addled alcoholic beverage. North Carolina is succumbing to peer-pressure next week. Each state's weakness on this issue is analogous to every 401k account in the world rolling over for the financial markets and saying "pour acid in any crevices you see, I'll do whatever you want." Even this dog is pissed.

Bev (seriously? Bev?) Purdue wants retailers to push the product off their shelves and into dumpsters littering the already polluted streets. That's right, Bev is pushing pollution; another dirty politician.

We figured we might as well let our mouths be the dumpsters, like we did when we heard rumor that kids go around seeking candy at the end of October. We dressed up as Hot Cops for Halloween and forced younguns into handing us their goods, then shoved said goods down each others throats. Gluttony is a sin, but it's not even in the top ten sins (prove otherwise, please), so conject elsewhere if you are looking for a target for your moral conjecture. We, on the other hand, will be playing Prussian Roulette with the Four Whoremen for the Lokopalyspe. 

The cashier turns away when we ask if he will voluntarily stop selling Four Loko.

"Four Loko me in the eyes when you say no!"

The Final Product

 

"That's $100+ worth of a Generally Bad Idea."  -Bev Purdue

"I met a married woman last week and we got matching tattoos."

I personally know very little about astrology. I did a little research. I now know remarkably more about my static destiny than I did 37 seconds ago. Interestingly, I now put infinitely less stock in the viability of one's Zodiac sign to reveal a birthing-period specific personality type. Karl and Dr. Karl is a Virgo. So am I. While he's an asshole fit for two, you'd be hard-pressed to get even the most pompous Leo to utter constructive criticism of my radiant and simultaneously ghostly disposition.

If I did put any stock in the predictive nature of astrology, I would thank my lucky star-sign that I am not a mid-Fall vaginal fall out boy. Scorpios, it seems, are known to be deceptively charismatic, vengeful, secretive, and possessive. Possessive of poisonous tails that can be lethal to beasts of a larger scale, like Doggieos and Racoonios and Cheerios.

If I were a Scorpio I would keep my head down and go about my pre-destined life as if the commonly accepted term for inflatable sport boats had no synonym. If I did decide to brand myself according to my October/November birth in the most permanent of fashions, it most certainly wouldn't be in the form of a red tattoo that looked equal parts lobster and scorpion. If I had already done all of these things I wouldn't do, my lobster/scorpion wouldn't include the initials of a recently separated married woman I met the week prior even if especially if she was a fellow scorpio and offered to do the same... on her pelvic region.

Most importantly, I for damn sure wouldn't provide my semi-internet savvy coworker with photographic evidence of my transgression, enabling him to legitimize his half-baked blog post:

      (Basic interpretation) (Totally legit image)

That would be impulsive. Which just so happens to be a trait astrologically linked to Scorpios. While all of the above constitute Generally Bad Ideas, if the stars do indeed control our destiny, it has become apparent that inventing Scorpios is the universe's way of making sure our species earns no respect from aliens. Thanks Mom... and Dad, if I have one.