Thursday, April 23, 2009

"The Latex Castaway"

Again, my apologies for not submitting many blogs lately. Without further hesitation I grant you the honor of reading my blog once again…as usual instead of enjoying the blog you will probably be thinking about all the productive things you could be doing instead of reading this…


**And for those reading on Facebook, you can read all my past blogs at http://stevemcdevitt.blogspot.com/


And now to the reading…

Last week while jogging on a nearby trail, I came to rest at a quaint playground just as my lungs were about to throw in the white flag and I was ready to collapse due to exhaustion. A few youngsters acknowledged me as they enjoyed some of the park’s amenities, however others were too busy tossing sand in each other’s faces to notice my presence. I’m not one to judge a day of mischief and tomfoolery but sand in one’s eyes strikes me as a bit flippant, but what do I know? Since the judge instituted that mandatory restraining order against me back in ’88 for my Soccer Mom stalking problem keeping me at least 400 yards away from any park, field or Aerostar van, I truly didn’t know what the hip kids were up to these days.

Dying of thirst, I pressed emphatically on a water fountain, anxious for the refreshing water to be the elixir for my dry, non-salivating mouth. Just as the crisp, cool water was about to hit my lips and prevent my body from shutting down completely, turning me into a useless piece of jelly, I saw it; there right in the fountain, was the brightest pink used condom I’d ever seen. Clinging to the drain like a drowning victim clinging to a life raft the condom remained impermeable to the gushing water’s attempts at dislodging it. I don’t claim to have a vast knowledge of pink condoms, so one would not consider me an expert, but this one may have been the first condom created using a color previously undiscovered in the universe. If a representative from Crayon, hot on pursuit of a fresh new flamboyant, pinkish hue was in the area, he would have done cartwheels around me and announced his search had ceased. Me on the other hand, felt a feeling of thirst quickly being replaced by the feeling of wanting to vomit. The water hit my pursed lips and careened onto my shirt. This pink imposter seemingly strategically positioned to turn my stomach into knots wasn’t the first used condom in public I’ve come across and I’m sure it won’t be my last, but one thing was for sure – I would soon learn this was the first that would haunt me in my nightmares…

Where exactly are people having sex that they feel the need to dispose these latex castaways like dry cleaning leaflets advertising $2 pressed shirts? At the park, on the street, on the curb, underneath the honeydew I’ve selected at the market? Don’t get the wrong idea, there is nothing wrong with sex in public and for the innocence of this blog I’ll plead ignorance on my experiences…ok I’m guilty, however there is something wrong with drinking out of a water fountain with a pink condom staring you square in the face – call me old fashioned…

I’m just throwing a theory out there, but wouldn’t, I don’t know…a trashcan be a great place? I’d even settle for a juniper bush or two, although I know the traditionalists will argue the rope swing down at their local park always seemed like a good spot…

I guess to fully understand how this is happening one would have to fully understand how these abandoned rubbers are finding their final home. We’ll say there are a few instances when they’re left behind by immoral, public sex addicts, impervious to the decency of others, but you’ve got to figure that only accounts for some of the cases. Are people physically leaving the place of fornication to strategically deposit these things in places just to ruin my day?

I guess I picture it something like this…

…Wow Sheila you were a real hit tonight…hmm…what should I do this condom…wait, I know…I think I saw an elementary school playground about six miles back. I’ll just drive out there and leave it on that see saw…that seems like a good place…”

“Yeah honey, that is a great idea…”

Am I way off base and there is another method that results in the transportation of condoms to the bottom of my strawberry soda can?

My advice?

For your sake and for the sake of a poor guy simply stopping for a sip of water and a quick hamstring stretch, you may want to think about finding a nearby trashcan for disposal, or you too may be haunted in your sleep by dilapidated, nauseating pink condoms.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

"Happy Hour Magazine - Portopong Write-up"

To all my blog fans (yes I am talking to the one of you...) my deepest apologies that I haven't submitted any entries lately. The good news or bad news for most woman and children is that I am back and have some in the works. Just because I haven't written, does not mean the most ridiculous stories aren't occurrring in my life. They are just simmering in my blackberry notepad, waiting feverishly for Tom Hanks from "Da Vinci Code," to come and decipher the drunken cryptic jibberish I've inputted while most likely intoxicated. While my new blogs are still cooking in my computer oven, here is the latest piece I wrote for Happy Hour Magazine. You can read all my blogs there directly @ http://www.happyhourmagonline.com/Happyhour-Blogs/ - you can go on there and input comments it appears, but I clicked on the link until my finger was rubbed raw and got nowhere... more Shenangians blogs to follow shortly...

By StevePublished 04/13/2009

Portopong in the pool


For any beer drinker with an infatuation for pounding beers and a burning desire for fierce competition, the game formerly known as Beer Pong is an excellent way to spend an afternoon of innovative drinking inebriation. The game has drawn the attention of thousands of drinkers everywhere, unwilling to stand for drinking mediocrity. The origin of the game dates back to the 1980’s, but in the last several years this pastime, which essentially guarantees intoxication to each player participating, has hit mainstream faster than Britney Spear's crotch shots to the Internet.

The idea of getting smashed while also competing in a sport is something most drinkers and athletes rarely get to do without the looming threat of an errantly thrown baseball to the groin, a spiked volleyball to the head, or a stray shuttlecock to the eye as they are looking in another direction. Beer pong not only eliminates all threats of potential injury but also provides a day of pure drinking bliss and the thrill of potential victory.

This is all fine and dandy for those who like to enjoy their pastime on land, but where does this leave the amphibious drinkers one might ask? Until recently, they were left out, forced to watch their peers have the time of their lives as they dejectedly floated down rivers, unhappily lounged on pool rafts or pouted in hot tubs left to wonder…If only they could just keep the red cups from floating away they too could enjoy…

Just at the point where salvation seemed impossible, the glorious Portopong was created and instantly one’s beer pong addiction and desire for water was joined together in joyous drinking innovation matrimony.

This brilliant invention can be blown up and used anywhere for splendiferous fun without getting out of the water. It works great for pools, lakes, over tables while camping or even for those of you who get the beer pong itch when walking by small ponds on the side of the road. It is easy to blow up to use and easy to deflate and store away for those non rainy days when you get the urge for some swimming and beer pong debauchery.

The best part about the Portopong is that when you’ve had a few too many, you can also pass out on it, making this the only drinking apparatus to also double as a bed!


One can pick up this inflatable ingenuity at www.portopong.com for just around $50 and it comes in a variety of colors. (Obese man with grotesque, hairy beer gut (pictured), sold separately). I guarantee it will improve your beer pong experience.