Blog Guy, if it’s August, it’s just about Oktoberfest over there in Germany. Isn’t this about the time they show some cute chick with those huge - watcha-call ‘ems?

They call those big things mugs.

Mugs? Yeah, I guess so. I never heard that euphemism before. So tell us about Oktoberfest.

They say it’s the “world’s biggest beer festival,” which I guess means they’ve never been to the Indianapolis 500.

Anyway, folks start drinking the beer in September, and then wake up to find out it’s October already.

Your grasp of international culture is impressive. What does that ”Hacker-Pschorr Himmel Der Bayern” banner mean?

I believe it translates to, “Yeah, my calves are kind of large, learn to live with it.”

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Model Sandra Schuster presents the official Oktoberfest beer mug in Munich August 25, 2009. The Oktoberfest, the world’s biggest beer festival, runs from September 19 until October 4 this year. REUTERS/ Michaela Rehle

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Blog Guy, I have a question about the space program. How do those astronauts unwind after a tough day of space walking and stuff?

Are you stupid? You’ve never seen Battlestar Gallactica? They have a Space Bar up on the space station now.

Really! I’ve never seen that.

That’s because NASA tries to protect the image of its squeaky clean astronauts. But these new photos show Bartender Floyd mixing up drinks despite weightlessness.

Hold on. If there’s a bar in space, then they must also have pickup lines.

Sure. According to Floyd, here are the top five lines guys use on chicks up there:

5. So, you come here often?

4. You know, what happens in space stays in space…

3, Hi cutie, you look great! Have you lost some weight?

2, Why don’t you take off that helmet and oxygen tank and get comfy?

And the number one pickup line in space is still:

1, Hey baby, wanna join the 210-mile-high club?

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Finland’s Rauno Tiainen competes in the ‘flair’ discipline while preparing a Love Boat 1 cocktail during the 35th World Cocktail competition in Berlin, August 10, 2009. REUTERS/Thomas Peter

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Blog Guy, I normally love tropical swim-up bars. There’s nothing like paddling over for a refreshing cocktail.

But this week I’m staying at an Italian seaside resort, and I can’t figure out their system. The drinks were already made, but they pulled them away when I tried to grab one. Not only that, they used these long poles to beat me senseless.

How terribly odd. You aren’t by any chance in Ostia, are you?

Yes! How did you guess?

The world acquatics championships are there, and I believe you saw a “feeding station,” where coaches use poles to deliver drinks to their swimmers during the competition.

Now I feel like an idiot!

Well, I’m sorry you had to swim away thirsty.

Who said I did that? I got four piña coladas. They can beat me with a pole all they want, but they’re not keeping me away from my rum. By the way, do you think they’d pay for treating my concussion?

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Above: South Africa’s Natalie Du Toit takes a drink at a feeding station for the women’s 10 km open water race at swimming championships in the seaside resort town of Ostia, July 22, 2009.

Left: Coaches prepare to deliver drinks to their athletes during the men’s 10 km open water race.

REUTERS photos by Alessandro Bianchi

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Dear Mom and Dad,

Well, I finally made it to Bali, my dream vacation, and it’s everything I ever hoped for!

I’m writing this postcard from exotic Kuta Beach, soaking up rays, sipping a lychee martini, ogling the handsome lifeguard with his sexy combat boots and assault rifle, and thinking about…

Oh, right. About that. Yes, there are heavily armed police patrolling the white sandy beach, since suicide bombers just hit two hotels in Jakarta. It turns out there were some major bombings here on Bali in recent years, too, which explains that great package deal I got.

So I’m learning to relax in paradise while waiting for the sound of gunfire, bombs and carnage. Another couple of lychee martinis and I won’t even notice it anymore…

It’s more than a blog, it’s a lifestyle

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Police patrol Kuta beach in Bali July 19, 2009 following bomb blasts in Jakarta on Friday. REUTERS/Murdani Usman

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Quick quiz: Where would be a really stupid place to sell booze?

a) churches

b) kindergartens

c) hospitals

d) gas stations

Okay, they’re all pretty stupid, but I guess I’m going to say gas stations, because you really can buy liquor there in Lithuania. I’m not making this up.

But in a clear example of jack-booted repression, on January 1 it became illegal for gas stations to sell liquor at night.

I mean, what could go wrong with a carload of yokels pulling off the highway, filling their tank, buying a couple of handles of vodka and roaring off into the darkness?

To answer an obvious question, police data show that alcohol-related accidents have dropped by 45 percent since the ban was imposed. Nevertheless, an oil and gas company is fighting the ban, saying it may force them to start closing their stations at night and laying off workers.

Well boo-hoo! My own personal opinion is that they should continue the ban at gas stations, and just sell their booze at highway toll booths, instead.

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Above: Women play in mud during international music festival “Be2gether” in Lithuania, June 13, 2009. REUTERS/Vasily Fedosenko

Left: A man flashes a victory sign as more than 150 truck and bus drivers take part in a protest against the rising price of fuel in Vilnius, Lithuania, in 2008 file photo. REUTERS/Ints Kalnins

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Blog Guy, I’ve got 54 seconds to waste. Hit me with something bizarre.

Did you already try the Tarzan yell video?

That’s over a minute. I’ve only got 54 seconds.

Everybody’s always in a hurry nowadays! Okay, watch this video of a Malaysian kung fu master as he pierces four coconuts with his finger in just over 30 seconds.

But why would anybody want to do that?

Are you kidding? Can you imagine how fast he can make piña coladas? You watch this amazing 54-second clip and you’ll say, “I’d gladly pay five bucks for a piña colada at that dude’s tropical beach bar!

This is your lucky day! We’re looking for investors right now for  “Wadda Colada!” Are you in? Huh? You wanna be rich?

I used up my 54 seconds just reading this. D’oh!

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If you weren’t convinced the world is going to hell from reading my post on the Heart Attack Grill, here’s an item that should put you over the top.

You know how, after a hard day of work, you really want to find somebody to belittle and demean and taunt?

Yeah, me neither. But now there’s this bar that actually encourages its customers to insult the staff, and even gives free drinks for really creative abuse. Seriously.

“When you come in after work, you can swear at them and call them bastard or imbecile,” said one happy customer.

Here’s what I think would be REALLY neat. I like to imagine that as this bar gets more publicity, people will come from farther away to try their abuse, and some of them will accidentally go to the bar across the street. The one owned and staffed by twisted psychopaths and recently released homicidal maniacs.

I’ll just sip my drink and watch the fun.

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Above: A boat sails past buildings at the coast line of Cullera, Spain, where the bar is located, March 27, 2009. REUTERS/Heino Kalis

Below: Co-owner Michal Lotocki (L) and a customer argue and insult each other in a friendly way at the ‘Casa Pocho’ bar in Cullera, June 18, 2009. REUTERS/ Heino Kalis

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Blog Guy, I want to be royalty in my next life. Those people get to do whatever they want. Command performances, the best art…

You’re so right. We sent an Oddly Enough team around with Queen Elizabeth yesterday, so you could see the rich tapestry that unfolds for her.

Huzzah! How exciting!

First up, we toured a bottling plant, and got a first-hand account of how beverages are put into bottles. It’s a show most people can only dream of.

Oh. And then?

The royal tour of an umbrella shop, watching a guy dazzle us with a display of umbrella dexterity. “You see this cloth-wrapped stick, Your Majesty? Presto! Now it’s a device to keep rain off of you!”

Did I say royalty? I meant I want to be Bernard Madoff. Or Phil Spector. Or….

But wait! We haven’t even gotten to the tour of the foundry!

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Above: Britain’s Queen Elizabeth is shown around drinks manufacturer Britvic’s bottling plant in east London, March 25, 2009. REUTERS/Luke MacGregor

Below: Queen gets a demonstration of an umbrella during tour of Fulton Umbrellas in east London, March 25, 2009. REUTERS/Arthur Edwards/Pool

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Some of you have asked me about that new program down there in Mexico, where nightclubs are being operated by federal government police.

I think the experiment seems to be working, judging from some fresh photos I’ve just seen from nightspots in Ciudad Juarez.

As you can see here, the Federales have organized a lively session of the Hokey Pokey. THOSE dudes are having a GREAT time!

Plus, think of the fun when the Federales ask for your ID at the door.

“ID? We ain’t got no ID! I don’t have to show you any steenking ID!“

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Federal policeman searches a man for weapons and drugs in an operation at a night club in downtown Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, March 7, 2009. REUTERS/Tomas Bravo

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A few days ago I blogged about plans to create a soft drink made from cow urine. Seriously. We even discussed ad and marketing uh, challenges to what we dubbed ”Mellow Yellow.”

This was a popular post, I gather because readers want to make damned sure they don’t go out and buy some by accident. So we’ve talked to folks associated with the project and done a video report.

One of the dudes in our report assures us that the stuff  “will sell like hotcakes!”

Um, sure. Maybe like hotcakes that are made from cow dung.

Another guy says, “one bottle contains about five to six milliliters of cow urine.”

That’s good to know, but please, buddy, DON’T make that your ad slogan!

Our report says the beverage’s flavor has yet to be decided. I’d quibble with that. If you make a drink from cow urine, the flavor is pretty far down the road already.

Guys, unless you’re going to mix the urine with molten lava or crushed Brussels sprouts, good luck with taking people’s minds off of the you-know-what.

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