Well, the day has finally arrived - the day that women aged 18-65 have been waiting for since the final episode of “Sex And The City” on HBO. More than four years since that fateful night, “Sex And The City” is back in movie form today. (Or last night for those obsessive fans who felt the need to see a midnight showing… And yes, “Sex And The City” is like the “Star Wars” for vaginas.)

As I’ve said before, a majority of my coworkers are female and all of them are in the “Sex And The City” demographic. Since the four bitches squashed their personal issues and decided they needed some more coke money, I’ve heard about every tidbit of information about the movie (fuck you Perez Hilton!). From the dresses, to the plot line, rumored endings, theatrical trailer, big screen release, etc. and it has all accumulated to today.

There is a weird vibe in the office today, like the time someone found a used condom in the storage room. Some have purposefully taken the day off, some are mysteriously out “sick”, and some are so giddy for this evening’s girls’ night out (cosmos with dinner, 9 o’clock showing, then to some trendy bar/club, followed by drunken causal sex) that doing actual work today is simply unrealistic.

Any hetero dude caught going to this film needs to have some serious time to reflect. Even if your excuse is that your girlfriend made you go, you need to come to terms with the fact that your girlfriend obviously has no friends herself and that is a bad sign. I’m sure there was an episode about this at some point during the six agonizing seasons that she probably made you watch the past two months to get ready for the release of the movie.

So, I ask the question that all women will be inquiring about today: Are you a Carrie, Samantha, Miranda or Charlotte? If you ask me, you can just call me Mr. Big.

We’ve all done the fist bump. Maybe your team just scored, maybe you just bowled a strike, maybe you just won a rap battle. These are all acceptable times to bump fists with a friend. The picture on the right, however, illustrates a time where it is definitely NOT okay to bump fists.

In case you’re wondering, these guys were celebrating the completion of a deal that brought a 42-mile rail corridor into public ownership.

Yeah, I know. That’s fucking boring. Look, if the fist bump is brought into areas where it clearly does not belong, where does it end? Will Obama get a fist bump from Bill Clinton right after he’s sworn in? Will we, someday soon, see a surgeon give a tearful wife a bump after successfully removing her husband’s brain tumor? Are you gonna fist bump your buddy after he sucks the rattlesnake venom out of your inner thigh?

So in an effort to help you out, we here at TastyBooze have devised a simple set of rules to aid you in appropriate fist bumping.

1. If sports are involved, fist bumping is always acceptable.
2. If you are wearing a suit, you may only fist bump if you are drunk. Or if you have just wrapped part of your suit around your forehead.
3. You may not fist bump under any circumstances, in a hospital. Unless Rule #1 (or Rule #2) applies.
4. Do not fist bump someone else’s misfortune, even if it helps you. Just look down, furrow your brow, and nod sternly.
5. No fist bumping between the hours of 7am and 10am. And if you’re watching sports at this time, it’s probably soccer or NASCAR, and then you should really not be fist bumping. High fives will suffice for both.
6. Do not fist bump in a meeting. Even if you are drunk.
7. Do not fist bump your children. Unless you’re drunk, then it’s OK.
8. Girls can fist bump anytime they want. And yes, guys think it’s cute.
9. Do not refuse a fist bump. If you, as a bumpee, believe the bumper is violating a rule, speak to him afterwards. Refusing his bump is not going to help anything.
10. Do not fist bump yourself.

Happy fist bumping, kids! And if any of you have any photographic examples of bad fist bumps, send them to us, and we will make it known!

Apparently the fancy ass beer pong table built by the West Virginia University engi-nerds really struck a nerve with Lexington Steele. He tried to hide this rant in the comments of the post but it is the most he has written on the site in months so I had to give it a post of it’s own.

I gotta give some props to these nerds for putting together what appears to be a pretty sweet table. But, let me rain on their parade. These nerds obviously built this thing with the hopes of getting some college pussy. Hence the “Apple Bottom Jeans” song playing. But I failed to see any college sluts playing pong on this. Wait, I didn’t see any fucking pong being played at all. And how the hell are you supposed to play pong in the dark? Did you put LED’s in the friggin cups? No, you didn’t. And since the lights were out, its obvious that you can’t see the LED’s without the lights out. Maybe your professor should have taught you to test your instruments before installing 600 fucking LED’s. So this basically is a pong table built of 2×4’s and plywood with a kick ass paint job, a CD player with sub-grade speakers, and some decent looking ball washers. I bet Mad Mardigan could’ve thrown this son-of-a-bitch together in one weekend. Next time, get a materials engineer on your team, build a collapsible table with some new composite material that will give you a less deviated bounce and will be light weight for transport. That way you can carry the table to where the bitches will be. Its obvious they’re not hanging out in your laboratory. And agreed on the beer. Pong is meant to be played with $14/case domestic beer. Do yourself a favor and actually go buy a case of beer someday. Drinking the stuff is pretty fun and may get you laid.

I agree with Lexington. Everyone knows that T-Pain doesn’t get the job done with the ladies anymore. If you are looking to make panties drop you have to roll with the Kanye.

What the fuck is with you guys going into the stall to piss? Can anyone explain this to me? The only time you should use the stall to stand up and take a piss is if every last urinal has been taken. If you have some kind of a stage fright issue and have to use the stall then you should just go ahead and use the lady’s pisser. Shit, it would probably be cleaner. I bet it has hand lotion and shit.

Nobody likes to have to drop a deuce away from home base, but it doesn’t help when you va-jay-jays piss all over the toilet seat that someone else needs to use to take an emergency at-work deuce. I mean let’s be honest…you va-jay-jays that pee in the stall are the same va-jay-jays that won’t lift the goddamn seat because you are to afraid to touch it. If you are going to piss in the stall then strap a pair of balls on and have the common courtesy to lift the fucking seat.

I mean what are you doing in there? Are you dropping your pants to your ankles to piss? I don’t use it but you know that is why they put that “fly” or hole in the front of your underwear. If that is your gig, fine. I would rather have to catch a shot of your bare ass then deal with your piss all over the toilet seat. It’s not like they stock those stalls with Clorox wipes. All that one-ply bullshit excuse for toilet paper in the stall is going to do is spread your piss all over the seat when I try to wipe it off. Either way, those of us that have to bite the bullet and drop a deuce away from home base are fucked.

A Pennsylvania man who decided to add a little spice to the check he used to pay a $5 parking ticket has been forced to apologize. Seems that David Binner, 45, was a little upset when he wrote the check, and decided to drop a couple F-bombs in the memo line of his check.

He was cited for obscene and disorderly conduct, since technically the F-word is considered not just obscene, but lewd and sexual in nature when directed toward someone in a note. After an apology was issued, the charges were dropped.

First, we all know how much fun the memo line is. Nothing is better than paying a buddy the $20 you owe him with a check, and writing “anal massage” in the memo line. Pure gold.

Secondly, as long as the guy didn’t make any specific threats, I think he should have been allowed to say what he wanted. He paid his debt to society, why not? After a year in jail, a criminal walking out of the gates should be allowed to say, “Fuck this place. I’m free, bitches!” He paid his debt, he’s allowed. Mr. Binner paid his debt, he should be allowed to swear away!

Fuck! Shit! Piss! Butt!

Original article on: CNN

You gotta love some of the Tasty Booze readers out there. I actually happen to know Zorro Dogg, and have heard him complain about several of these topics until he’s blue in the face. Finally, I got him to put his words on paper.

You know what really pisses me off?

1. People at work. I mean seriously who the fuck do they think they are. Just because their “Job Title” is one fucking Indian character above mine on the totem pole they can just ask me to schedule a conference room or box up a FedEx package. OH, sorry! I forgot that in your busy little day that you don’t have time to fill out your goddamn name and address in the proper fields on the forms. MY BAD. Oh and you know what, in the time it took you to type me an email asking, “Hey, I need a conference room tomorrow at 2. Can you do that?” you could have just typed in a different recipient of the message and your request would be fulfilled. Oh, I know it’s just so you can feel powerful. And for that, fuck the people at work!

2. People who run to the fucking subway during rush hour like another train isn’t going to come in two fucking minutes. I mean seriously people slow the fuck down. The two minute wait is not going to make you lose your job, and if it does then you should get your fucking lazy ass out of bed so you don’t have to sprint through the metro station in your Calvin Klein dress pants.

3. Male Neck Scarves (Marfs). Yeah you know who you are. This is the most annoying fucking thing. I mean, when have men actually taken fashion ideas from women? Oh, let’s go buy a $30 piece of wool just in case my neck gets cold. WHAT THE FUCK? Oh, but it goes real nice with my wool dress jacket. Let me ask you this, when was the last time you can remember your neck actually being cold while you were working? Did you think to yourself, oh, my neck is really cold right now I guess I should wrap a scarf around it? NO, your neck is not cold, you don’t fucking need a scarf, and if you do, you might just straight cut off your dick because you are a vagina. When you put that on do you look in the mirror and say, oh, damn this really pulls the outfit together? Marfs are like throw pillows…POINTLESS! FUCKING NECK SCARVES, AHHHHHH.

4. Redskins Fans, what kind of fan are you if it takes your best player getting shot and killed to finally get behind them and rally your team? Oh, not to mention that all you do is hate on Philly fans when you are just as bad. SEATTLE WINS!

5. Overeager Elevator Pushers -I encountered one of these today, I’m standing waiting for an elevator to take me down to the subway. A girl comes up and pushes the already lit down arrows on both elevators. Logical, right? Like I’m just standing there waiting for someone to do it for me because I don’t understand how these magical doors work. It’s called common sense. Use it. Extra pushes don’t make it come any faster. Then, they get into the elevator and push the button like 8 fucking times to get to the platform. I guess 8 means warp speed. These assfaces are the same people that run to a train because 2 minutes is just too long to wait. God I hate commuters.

6. New Jersey –ENOUGH SAID. The only good thing that comes out of this state is a Fictional TV show and Less Than Jake.

7. People who shave their facial hair into a chinstrap. Seriously you need a reality check. Read the Marf section and these perfectly groomed douchebags are probably the same people. OH MAN, MY CHINSTRAP IS SO COOL.

That is just some of the many things that grind my gears.

Note. I’m not trying to be funny. This stuff seriously pisses me off.

Thanks, Zorro Dogg. Loved the rant. If any other readers want to submit a rant, email me at MikeHoncho@tastybooze.com.