Archive for Rehab

Posted in Spirit Guide with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 22, 2010 by Colin Walker

Now, admittedly, the title of this post is relatively crass, but at The Playground, we believe that the first response is usually the correct response. That is why I am no longer allowed in the state of Ohio. And you’ll all forgive me, I’m sure, but when I saw this:

PETA and MADD got together and invented a nightmare.  “Where is the kick!?”

I “’bout lost my shit”, as my grandma puts it.

Now, this is the interwebs, and Photoshop is a very real thing. When you see this, you could easily be all, “Coddy, broham, that’s just some surrealist photo shoop-de-whoop.” Let me just stop you right there and ask you why we are friends, with you talking like that? Also, you’re fucking wrong!


That, is BrewDog’s Roadkill Beer. It is a real thing, from Scotland. And if you think that’s fucked up, let me show you this:

Hooooooooooo! Holy shit! You can get the damn things in Scottish regalia or dressed as butlers! And they are real taxidermied animals! What the hell is wrong with these people? I fucking love them!

Now, a lot of you are going to be butthurt. I know that. Some of you will squeal in absolute horror that those are real animals. You will cry in all manner about how that is wrong, and morally reprehensible. But, allow me to put your mind at ease. Yes, those are real, cuddly little squirrels. (You can also get them in  stoat or rabbit.) But, that hollowed-out husk of what would have otherwise been a cute living thing is wrapped around a bottle of End Of The World, BrewDog’s strongest offering. It’s 55% ABV, which, if you’re keeping track at home, means that this beer is stronger than vodka. There! I’ll bet you feel better now, don’t you?

Quit your fucking crying. You want something to cry about? MOMMY IS NEVER COMING BACK!

Anyhow, I suppose it goes without saying that I have to have this. You guys knew that from the get-go. And here is how you can finally give back to the site and its online community! This shit is $760! I need help buying it! I mean, yeah, I have $760, but I don’t have $760 for fucking beer. If you all get together and help, though, we can get this done and I will feature this beer in the Spirit Guide. Fuck yes! Who’s with me!?

You guys?

That’s What They’re There For.

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on May 14, 2010 by Colin Walker

This man, this DJ, has captured my heart. I am also a nihilistic asshole who drinks too much, and if my job required me to be upbeat and entertaining like this guy’s does, I would be drunk and mailing it in all over the place just like him. But, waat he does next takes a fair amount of balls, and he does it with such a casual, flowing grace, that I can not help but stand in awe of him.

That’s right, the titty drums. Godspeed, good DJ, today you have made The Wasteland a brighter place.

As Stupid As You Are, You’re Not As Stupid As This Guy

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on May 11, 2010 by Colin Walker

At least I hope not.

A Clarksville Tennessee man stole some beer yesterday. This in and of itself is not noteworthy. I’m sure that beer gets stolen all the time in Clarksville, Tennessee. I mean, what else is there to do there, right? You have sex with farm animals, then you steal some beer. Immediately followed by more sex with farm animals. “If I could talk, I’d tell them what you did.”

But here’s what makes this unique:  The guy that took the purloined beverages came back and tried to return them. Because he felt bad? No. because they weren’t cold enough. That’s like calling the cops because somebody stole your weed. You’ve either got balls the size of grapefruit or a brain the size of a pea to try something like that.  (Hint: it’s always the latter.)

“everybody’s always tryin’ ta bring me down!”

Lindsay Lohan Is Rapidly Disintegrating

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on March 15, 2010 by Colin Walker

“Why don’t you come to my room later, tiger?”

Jeeeeeeeeeeesssssssuuuuuuuusssssssssss Christ! What in the hell is happening with Lindsay Lohan? I am not kidding. This is not a rhetorical question or a lead in to something else. REALLY. I would like to know what this is. Is this some kind of disease? I do not want that disease! She is fucking melting like the Wicked Witch of the West over there! Does she have fucking Progeria or something? Baby Jeebus forgive me if she does, but goddamn! Have I made this clear?


She is only twenty-three years old! Twenty-three!



Do you guys remember when she was just starting to get mainstream, and she looked like this?

That was an attractive young lady who looked like she was going to turn into a beautiful woman. What the fuck happened? I almost did a “Jesus, I thought they were dead’, piece on this, but I think she may actually be dying, and then the joke isn’t funny. I’m going to have to dust off an old chestnut here and just say “Cocaine is a hell of a drug”.

Steven Tyler Wants You To Buy A Riding Lawnmower Right NA-NA-NA-NA-NOW!

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on January 26, 2010 by Colin Walker

Former front man of Aerosmith and notable pill-head Steven Tyler visited a California Home Depot on Saturday, where he grabbed the store mic and went into impromptu renditions of ‘Love In An Elevator’ and  ‘Dude Looks Like A Lady’.

“I’ll be happy to answer your questions as soon as you answer one of mine. Where the hell am I?”

Store management didn’t seem to mind, as no charges were filed and the singer was permitted to stay and sign autographs. No word was given as to why Tyler was in the Home Depot, when he was supposed to be in rehab in nearby  Rancho Mirage. Could he have been buying the necessary materials for a DIY rig that would allow him to get absolutely blitzed and still remain upright? Could he be buying some car wax for his Dodge Ram, because it is the Mayor of Truckville but he forgot they gave him one gratis during that failed ad campaign, and the damn thing is dirty? Who knows? Not me.

All I do know is that it must be pretty fun to be Steven Tyler. I mean, he’s got so much money he probably shits gold-plated bricks of coke and pisses molten platinum. He’s high off his ass constantly, can say whatever he wants and gets to throw  street-jam karaoke battles next to the Anderson Windows. G’head, Steve.

“I can’t taste my face.”