Friday, February 27, 2009

Once Hairful Friday: Captain Jack Edition

Sweating cocaine and criticizing your pathetic life, an owl-eyed Billy J rocks faces crooked with a sinblistered disregard for the conventions of this world or the next. Due to some disagreements with the group, Joel's hair decided to pursue other interests in 1984. The two talents never truly excelled at anything after the breakup.

Have a good weekend kids. Remember, don't be careful, be hairful.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Endemic Loopeeves

Nails on a chalkboard. Chewing with your mouth open. No, what we're addressing can't be found on any of the pages penned by Emily Post. These outrageous habits plague many of those of us inside the Loop and have gone unchecked, until now. We shall eradicate these diseases with fingers pointed and guilt galore.

Spocktitis - We're talking to you, Jabronies. Hey guy with the mega-techno-phone growing out of your melon. You have a disorder of the, "You look like a fucking moron of the present." Spock died in the Rath of Kahn and you're not bringing him back, so put that Time Life Books operator device of the future back in your pocket until someone fucking calls.

Spousalthelioma - This silent cancer is actually contracted by your significant other while the illness ultimately manifests itself through you. It's a slow, covert assassin, but pretty soon she's sucked everything away from you and you've realized you don't actually spend any time your friends anymore. In addition to gangrene of gums and krill oil flavored saliva, signs of this disease may be detected early on. A conspicuous, tell-tale sign includes your spouse having a greater interest in tracking your cock with a GPS, than inhaling oxygen.

Pill Pirate Pathosis - You may have just had shoulder surgery, but your friends aren't just looking through your front window to check up on you. They're looking around for those Vicadin bonbons Dr. Painfree prescribed to you. Then they stuff them in their pants while you're re-dressing your staple wounds. Enjoy your recovery, we're off to augment our adult sodas!

Dry Leaving - You can't pretend you've never experienced this before. It's similar to dry heaving, as in when you gag like you're about to blow chunks, but nothing actually comes out. The symptoms arise commonly when you really aren't in the mood to go out, but your buddies have convinced you that a good time will be had by all at Kay's. Sure, maybe if Mario pimp slap you for ordering a bucket of Banquet Beers. Anyway, you finally arrive and your buddy's cousin has put away three Pearl Light's and is already falling into your lap. Problem is she looks like she's got Downe's Syndrome as soon as she's sucked down a few cold one's. You don't want to alert anyone to your impending departure, so you act like you're going to the bathroom and simply exit the bar. Game. Set. And Match. You've just made a clean getaway leaving everyone else to wonder: Where the fuck did he go? Answer: Evacuated from hell.

Scrubolepsy - Dear Dr. Vainglorious, we think it's swell you attended and graduated from medical school, even if it took snorting Myoplex and a Ritalin lolipop to pass your rheumatology exam. Yes, you are doctor. That does not give you a perpetual license to wear scrubs whenever you are among the masses. Do we wear our suit and tie to the gym? No, so please don't wear your pathogen-laced pajamas while you stare into the mirror trying to replicate the P90X instructor. Also, it'd be nice if you could turn down the volume of your voice. Bulgaria isn't interested in the hookers you met at Glass Wall the night before last. You. Suck. At. Being. In. Public.

Have you been infected? Are you a carrier? Now swallow your medicine with a spoon full of mirror.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Fuck You Its Star Pizza!

Star Pizza 2
77 Harvard (on Washington)
(713) 869-1241

We decided to eat out last night. We wanted a place offering Zeusian ambrosia and a staff of cretins who would happily slash out our sinewy pride tendons with cold hook knifes forged from years of mistreatment by the wealthy and attractive. This searing of love and murd
er can only exist under one construct...
Come for the pizza! Leave...a little abused...and angry.

We heard that some president man was going to try and sell us a miracle salve for our suicidally flaccid financial portfolio, so the intent is to sit in the room with the large 1993 rich family projector TV and try to believe. To our subtle disgust, we are informed that Star Pizza chooses to avoid the harsh controversy of a presidential monologue, thus decreasing the chances of some politically charged feelings betwixt patrons boiling over into a kitchen tool bloodbath amongst partisan rivals. We briefly imagine being forced into decapitating the busgirl with a 2.5" pizza slicer because she sees merit in an auto bailout and decide not to stay.
"What about fiscal accountability, Marta? Where does it end?"

The guy at the To Go counter has a bear trap for a grill and speaks in asshole. We try to explain the paradox of placing an order for delivery at the restaurant, but we can only hear the echo of our pointless words bouncing through the grey clouds of bong rip in his otherwise vacant skull.

In the end, sauteed spinach, chicken, artichokes and feta cheese on whole wheat, makes everything better.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Looprivia Vol 2: Off the Menu

Its Looprivia time muppets! You know the drill, first to comment with all answers correct receives a series of terrible prizes:

  • A Lords of the Loop T-Shirt
...Ah she said I was the tiger she wanted to tame...
  • A shot glass of genuine Dominican tears
  • An autographed VHS of The Wizard with Fred Savage*
  • A wet sock full of Quaaludes
  • A personalized song performed in costume by Ed Wrath, set to the melody of Skid Row's I Remember You
If you're worried that answering these questions will result an early morning, Spandex clad E. Wrath's dizzying display of air thrusts and diamond cutters on the hood of your new BMW...your fears are just. Let's get wet.
- Looprivia Vol 2: Extra Anchovies -

1. Mardi Gras Grill on Durham serves which of the following Cajun delicacies...
a. boudin
b. frog legs
c. alligator
d. raccoon
e. all of the above

2. True or False? Brennan's was razed to the ground not by Ike, but by legendary chef and sinister hatchetman Mark Cox.

3. What rho at House of Pies will turn any child under the age of 8 gay for Hispanic men?
a. Texas Fudge Nut
b. Banana Creams
c. Adam's Apple
d. Inverted Toffee Crotch

4. Which definition is correct?
a. Ruggles (v.) - to consume a 4,000 calorie sandwich made from eggplant, fried blue cheese and bitter cherry essence
b. Reef (n.) - (1) a submerged ridge of rock or coral near the surface of the water: (2) $150 before tip
c. Soma (adj.) - describes a group of males in tight shirts sitting on IKEA furnishings
d. Tealas (n.) - a Mexican brand of dog food
*Please note this tape is autographed by Beau Bridges and not a 90s wonderchild.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009


Every so often something comes along to inspire us like no other. For many it’s religion. For some it’s reaching the apex of a gargantuan mountain. For the Lords, we are in complete and utter awe of ShamWOW!

Several rumors have been floating around about this incredible product. Let us clarify. Michael Phelps was actually smoking ShamWOW!,not pot. $18 Billion has been set aside to line the Alaskan “Bridge to No Where” with ShamWOW! Sure Chris Brown b-slapped Rihanna, but the story you didn’t hear was that she snatched his ShamWOW! and unloaded it on eBay.

Look, there’s 50% of the cola right there! The other 50%? We served it to you last night during Big Monday with three-week-old Ponzo’s pepperoni rolls.

"It soaked up all of the pools of milky water inside the Loop! I am so satisfied I even started a fund raiser to supply every special-needs HISD students with one! No more paper towels to suck up that drool.” -- BleachBrown, ShamWOW! consumer

So what are you waiting for? Call now and get them while they’re hot. Warning: Do not tease or taunt ShamWOW! And definitely do not sleep too close to it. It’s suction is so powerful it will even soak up your dreams.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Guilty Pleasures of the Lords - We Shall Overcome!

Sure everyone is downtrodden by the market's latest ominous news. The chances that you or your neighbor will lose their job increases exponentially with each passing day. What can we Looper's do to take our mind of these dire days? The answer is simple. It's the little things in life that allow us to make it through each billable hour and sales call. Here are a few of the simple things in life we yearn for and crave. We don't just promise intangible hOpe-bama. We offer real life-changing diversions at your very fingertips, something no government bailout could ever supply.

1. Billy Ocean

Truly orgasmic. He's also just kicked-off a European tour. Don't be surprise to see us there.

2. Malcolm in the Middle.

Yes, we DVR four episodes every day and get goose pimples at the prospect of being able to fast forward thru commercials after a long day of staring at Outlook 2003.

3. Coke ZERO on Tap

Our office may have cut discretionary bonuses this year, but at least we have this bubbly bit of heaven to quench our parched throats and caffeinate our souls.

4. House shoes

We've broken these out for many public occasion and soon we'll be pairing them with a robe for a night out on the town. Don't be afraid. Embrace comfort.

5. Cadillac Bar's Sunday Brunch

Stuff your faces and drown your sorrows in mimosas at this Sunday spot. Opens at 11 am and consistently better than head from your file clerk.

6. Target

Quality tail is abundant in this super store and provides free entertainment for hours on end and a better chance of a hook-up than wasting a $100 on a tab for a socialite named Aspen at Sammy's.

7. Cinnamon Toast Crunch

Fuck you, it's delicious.

Check out these sinful self-indulgences and hopefully you'll reconsider catapulting your leased BMW off the 610 / I-10 interchange on your way to work tomorrow morning.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Little BIGS

No this isn't the name of our testicles. It's the newest orphaned son vomited out by the owners of Reef, the purported number one ranked seafood restaurant in the country by Bon Appétit magazine. I don't give that ranking any credit because this is the same magazine that showered Chipotle with praise. The only thing I've come away from that establishment with is a case of tongue shingles and an agitated colon that felt like it was polished by the Department of Asphalt.

Nevertheless, the one bright spot of Reef has always been its slider burgers so we were excited to learn that the new joint would focus solely on that. These tiny bites of heaven are so tasty King Leonidas actually considered turning over Sparta to Xerxes for a trio. What's a trio, you ask? It's an order of three sliders. You can choose from mushroom, burger, or chicken, and mix and match as you please. Burger is our staple, but don't be afraid to gravitate toward the chicken one's with a helping of LB’s special sauce. No, not that kind. Get your freakin' mind out of the gutter. The mushroom sliders are coated in molten-lava cheese and then flash fried. The only thing better in this world would be Paul Walker's under-age girlfriend glazed in Gruyère.

Hey man, there's nothing wrong with under-aged chicas

Then there's The Dude. It's a miraculous milkshake libation aptly named after a character from The Big Lebowski. This tundra of creamy communism, also known as a Frozen White Russian, promises not to disappoint. It even has Vladmir Putin's stamp of marxist approval. He'd make it a part of the daily food rations for the peckish peasants of Mother Russia, but then he wouldn't have any more funds to blackmail the Kazakhstan Prime Minister. And if you ask nicely, they'll even let you take the adult beverages to go. We're sure this practice won't last long since this is Texas, not the backwoods of Thibodeaux, Louisiana, so take advantage while you can!

Dude, we hope to see you there during your next late night meal. After all, Little Bigs is open till three on the weekends, so there's no need to sit in line at Whataburger for taquitos unless you truly believe you actually have a shot at a hand job from that first year corporate associate. Her hands should be nice and smooth because she's billed only 12 hours this month and been lubricating them with Jergen's all week to stay busy while the economy melts down right before her very own eyes. FYI, there’s no drive-thru at LB’s so we won't hold it against you, because after all, that is one of the few valid excuses worth missing out on these divine bite-size sandwiches off of Montrose.

We rate this place four sloppy-smooth-associate handjobs, out of five.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Population Control Inside the Loop

The Lords gathered at the Mexican miracle on Kirby to imbibe some frosty cervezas and participate in a lively round-table discussion of the latest and greatest methods of birth control utilized by the yuppies of the Loop. First, as a caveat, there is no scientific proof whatsoever that any of the following methods are actually effective.

Undoubtedly one of the most common situations fertile young male Loopers encounter is the conundrum of averting the impregnation of that dirty-thirty-year-old whom you brushed up against on the way to the little boy's lavatory. Sure, she had been pouring buttery nipple shots down her throat at her roommate's bachelorette party. And you had just consumed the better part of an embargoed Cuban cigar given to you by your work spouse, but your sexual target lives in Katy, so why not get it on in the backseat of your X5 rather than drive way outside the beltway?

Unfortunately, the condom you had stashed in your glove compartment in 2003 for that MBRE post-ethics exam romp with the quiet girl in the back from your Fed Tax class had gone bad. She had insisted on taking it back door to preserve her technical virginity status so there was no need for the condom, but the expiration date was now 752 days past-due and was as crusty as the Longhorns' running game last season.

Back to the X5 and no condom. Thanks to the Lords, we now have a myriad of conception-prevention options.

1. The Rhythm Method - One of the most popular, yet seemingly misunderstood and quite confusing birth control approaches, is undoubtedly The Rhythm Method which could be accomplished by doing any of the following:

a. Playing Miami Sound Machine at high decibel volumes so that the sperm become so confused they don’t know which direction to swim. Think of sonar and beached wales. Without a doubt, our go-to track of choice is this:

b. Keeping the Beat (a/k/a, “Beat It”) - Another misunderstood variation of TRM is the use of a four or eight count beats to time the gyration of your CK One diluted sweat-covered bodies. The goal is to prevent from moving too quickly to excite each other to the point of creating a symbiotic environment for the fusion of gametes. That's fancy speak for when sperm fuses with an ovum to make a baby sea monkey. If a nearby friend is around, his newly purchased bongos from eBay might come in handy.

c. Pulling-out - This is really just a euphemism for TRM for you Loopers. In the end, if you don’t pull out prior to releasing your Scud missiles inside her Temple of Doom, the eggo will be preggo. Trust, us she’d much rather prefer an archipelago of your snow all over her thorax than having to contact the Attorney General's office to name you as one of their top five most wanted for failure to pay child support.

So we can maintain our 501(c)(3) status and make this somewhat educational, please see a complete description of the Rhythm Method here:

If you actually practice any of the above, you will assuredly end up like this guy:

Damn, Adam must have been one horny fellow.

2. Hot tubs - Yes, chlorine kills it and will thwart any chance from pollinating her stamen. Please be careful in group situations so as not to dilute the potency of the sperm murdering cleaning agent.

3. Gravity - If you have her on top, it is a well-known fact that sperm cannot swim against Earth’s gravitational pull. So if you have to release your load prior to withdrawing your cannon, make sure your pistol is facing north toward the sky.

Thank you, Sir Isaac.

As a bonus, we also suggest utilizing a zip-lock baggie in lieu of a Trojan; however, this technique hasn’t been employed since the infamous spring break trip of ’87 in Anahuac at Grandma’s ranch house. For a secure seal, the bags with the "yellow and blue make green" gimic are preferred.

Saran Wrap and Wax paper are far less superior alternatives

To close the Loop, yes, we did end up scoring with her. Twice. Outside in the parking lot of Volcano. No, we didn’t use roofies. Those frozen screw drivers work just fine.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Its a Taco Miracle

We believe in miracles. We also believe ghosts exist and that they just want to help us understand...
JLH is apparently listening to the ghost of Debbie Gibson's ruthless bangs

Miracles happen and we stand in dumbfounded awe at their divine gloriousness. Sunrises, snowflakes, dreams, our paycheck, HD television, lymph nodes, Jordan Shipley, processed cocaine, rainbows, really good ribs, kitten faces, the success of Howie Mandel, galvanized steel, the Lourdes Grotto and our eczema medication are all perfect realities which happen without plausible explanation.

If you need us for any reason, we'll be huffing the goodness out of a dense Cohiba this happiest of hours outside Taco Milagro of the Kirby variety. We won't be eating, only smoking embargoed sin and pushing a fix of tequila juice in our faces until blackout or trauma or both.
There is defined reason behind tacos, so we can't slot them in the 'milagro' category as easily as some.