• How To Rid the World of Douchebags…

    I just walked home from my weekly Portuguese glasses and let me tell you I just locked my door. I mean, I party like the next guy, but there are DRUNK people outside. I just witnessed 6 girls yell “Vaginnaaaa, oh Vaginaaaa, we found you!” into a phone and I think there was someone nearby on the other end of that call. I just saw a guy playing literal human Frogger in the middle of 6th avenue where cabs give pedestrians “love taps” just for fun. I saw more bro-on-bro pull-aside conversations than I care to talk about. This was all literally in one five minute walk home. Who knew St. Patty’s day was the official lets get obliterated day? Apparently, I didn’t….


     

    Apologies to our Lord and Savior

    "I'm dissapointed, but I understand."

    "I'm dissapointed, but I understand."

    It was a scant few weeks ago that the Steel Closet’s own JessCe posted a list of “Lousy Lent Ideas.” I commented on that post that I had given up drinking in support of a friend who had done the same. Well, I’m sorry to inform, while drinking wasn’t on the list it was still lousy enough to fail as a goal.

    "Me too"

    "Me too"

    So here I am, only three weeks down and down for the count. Like many people, while neither my friend nor I are Catholics, Lent seemed like a fine opportunity to test our mettle. Nothing like a little officially sanctioned period of denial to help steel your resolve, and we were in for the long haul, but just how long would that haul be? As it happens, one of my best friends is a minister, and was happy to give us the low down on the Lenten timetable. Apparently, Lent officially ends once Jesus has been laid to rest the day after Good Friday. So roughly around sundown of April 3rd we could knock’em back till he gets back. It actually wasn’t all that hard and eventually we didn’t really miss it. We both still went out, and at just about any bar we went to we found several supportive people that had tried it themselves, but had completely avoided the bar scene and failed anyway. Even so, we couldn’t help but feel out of place and somewhat unwelcome. For one thing, bartenders are, by and large, completely unsympathetic to your commitment, and don’t give a fat rat’s ass about making it plain that your flirtation with sobriety is a waste of their time. Fruit juice and soda? Coming right up, pussy. And by coming right up I mean I’ll get around to it, because your drink costs less than a bulk-bought napkin and so I assume you aren’t just a teetotaling faggot, but a cheap, no-tip-leaving motherfucker to boot. God bless, drinkslinger.
     

    My New Obsession: Friday Night Lights

    WORDS BY ISH ZENDEJAS

    After much pestering by my friends to watch this show, I finally broke down and watched the first season of Friday Night Lights. After going through the whole series finally catching up in time to watch season 4’s finale, it is safe to assume that this is a damn good show. The show is a deeply engrossing emotional drama that sucks you in and treats you like family. Let me show you just a quick taste of what makes this show one of my new obsessions.

    Eric Taylor

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    kyle-chandler-as-eric-taylor

    To the small town of Dillon Texas, Football is life. And as the Head coach of the Dillon Panthers, Coach Eric Taylor is practically Atlas holding the world on his shoulders. Coach Taylor is not just a damn good coach; he is a damn good mentor. It is through Taylor that we become invested in the show’s players. We come to love and care about these young Texas teens because Coach Taylor does. Whenever something bad goes wrong or a player does something he shouldn’t have, you are just waiting for Coach Taylor’s words. They are never beams of lights coming from heaven and shining upon the kids; they are just the right words at the right time. He says exactly what needs to be said and the look at his eyes shows that he means it.  

    Save Yourself the Embarrassment! 20 Things You Should Know When Going to a Club

    WORDS BY OWEN JAVELLANA

    Dave Chappelle

    I don’t claim to be an expert on this subject (or any other, for that matter), but there are certain things I’ve observed while being dragged out to clubs by my (much cooler) friends. Chief among those realizations were “I don’t belong here,” and “I want to skip to the part where we get Denny’s.” But the following is a list of findings that may be slightly more relevant to other people.

    1. Guys: If a girl is ignoring your dancing out on the floor, you will NOT win her over with more dancing.

    2. Just because the bartender is “hot” does not mean they’re “flirting with you,” despite what it may seem like when you’re drunk.

    3. Sitting at the bar is fine. That’s what the stools are for. But if forty people are waiting to squeeze by you to get an order in, you might want to consider getting THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY.

    4. Double-fisting drinks will save you a second trip to the bar, as long as you don’t mind looking like a crazy drunkard.

    5. Girls in line outside: We get it. You’re cold.
     





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