I used to joke that I could measure the amount of fun I had at a party by how many bruises I woke up with the next day. I’m not trying to sound sadistic, but I bruise easily and am incredibly clumsy; I party hard, and I fall even harder. I haven’t even been too out of control in the past few weeks, yet my legs are still littered with black and blue marks that seem to have appeared out of nowhere.

I’ve seen a lot of drunken injuries in my day. Some are funny; some not so much. You really shouldn’t need to wear hard hats or protective armor to a party, so here’s a brief list of some potentially painful injuries, and how to avoid them.

Injury: Cigarette burns.

Avoid them by: Not drunkenly smoking your cigs all the way through the band; not giving someone with a lit cigarette your hand; not putting the wrong side of your lit cigarette into your mouth.

Injury: First, second, or third degree burns.

Avoid them by: Being conscious of where the bonfire pit is at a keg party on a cool autumn night; not attempting to walk through said pit in an effort to reunite with your friends after peeing in the woods.

Injury: Stitches on your scalp.

Avoid them by: Not jumping up and down on your lofted bed and cracking your head open on the ceiling; not falling out of a lofted bed after sloppy, drunken, sex, and cracking your head open on your f*ck buddy’s desk.

Injury: A shiner the color of an eggplant.

Avoid it by: Not chugging straight Bacardi and proceeding to faceplant your nightstand. These actions may or may not also have a negative effect on the nightstand, which may or may not break apart from the impact of your face. Read More »

Dear Hulk Familia,

Please, please go away.

I’m not asking much. I’m just really tired, Hogans. I’m really, really tired of seeing your creepy mugs (and arms and abs…Linda, cover it up!) all over the place, doing and saying more ridic things by the minute.

So, like, two years ago, you were happily filming VH1’s Hogan Knows Best. You seemed like a normal enough family. Hell, that was the whole premise.

And then, It Began.

First there was the separation. Linda and Hulk, I thought you guys were forever! Well, frankly, I was sorry to hear it. I felt bad for you that things had gone awry.

Then Nick got in an accident. At the tender age of 17, he had his first precious DUI.  Not only that, but he managed to take out his best friend, putting him into a lifetime coma. It is a very sad story. However, Nick didn’t seem to feel bad for his friend at all. In fact, he has been too busy whining about jail and how awful it is. Yes, jail is horrible. That’s the idea. Don’t drive drunk and ruin your friend’s life. Read More »

Jail isn’t fun. In fact, jail is pretty miserable. I know, I know, you don’t believe me, right? You always imagined jail to be one non-stop party. Who doesn’t want to be in jail?

Well, Nick Hogan is saying otherwise.

What? He’s trying to tell us that jail is like…bad?!

According to a report in Page Six:

“‘Nick’s doing really bad. He’s struggling to even form a sentence,’ one friend said. ‘They have him in a cell by himself, isolated from the general population, because of threats. He didn’t understand how awful jail really is until now.’”

So there you have it; jail sucks. Well, now I guess Nick will know for the next time he decides to race his Toyota Supra while drunk, leaving his friend in a permanent coma. And shouldn’t he be thrilled he’s in a cell by himself, isolated from the other inmates? I’d count myself lucky to be roommate-less and alone in jail. It could be so, so much worse. Read More »