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posted by admin on Jul 28

Jay and I spend twenty minutes discussing the merits and usefulness of the inspirational phrase, “Ducks fly together!” The rest of the time Jay feebly attempts to defend the movie as not being a bastion of un-American propaganda aimed at children but fortunately I use my acerbic, drunk wit to demolish his arguments.

Or something like that.

Find it on iTunes under The McRib Happy Hour or check it out on the web.

posted by admin on Jul 16

New podcast available!

Jay and I discuss the soundtrack to Mortal Kombat. The video game, not that movie because that would be crazy.

Available on iTunes but get the direct feed here.

posted by admin on Jun 16

Check out part two of the latest podcast here or download it from iTunes under The McRib Happy Hour. Please subscribe!

In this segment William and I talk chest hair, gin, educational software, sega, the future of podcasts and spend the final sixteen minutes or so discussing pornography.

It gets a little erotic.

EDIT: The porn starlets name I could not remember is Kayden Kross. If you’re interested in that kind of thing.

posted by admin on Jun 15

Finally, a new podcast!

In part one my friend William and I talk about his recent trip to Europe, beer and Math Magic. Should be up on iTunes or hit up the link above.

This was my first try using Skype and after a few technical issues initially I think it turned out fairly well. My volume level is a little low at first but a few minutes in it gets better so stick it out and you will be rewarded!

I’ll post Part II: William’s Revenge tomorrow. If you want to learn more about the mysterious William Jones hit up his excellent food blog, The Food Spot.

posted by admin on Jun 9

For much of my life I have had a dream. Mythic stories of people and places have worked upon my impressionable mind and left me with a goal, a dream, a need.

At a steak house I want to take on an enormous steak challenge in an eat-for-free situation.

As a young lad growing up in Rhode Island, my Dad returned home from business trips filled with stories of glorious restaurants where the entire table ate for free if one hearty man would fulfill his destiny and eat a heart attack inducing amount of meat. To my young mine this seemed unfathomable as a business operation. Even then I believed I had it in me to make that restaurant regret laying down such a gauntlet. You certainly cannot discount the late John Candy in The Great Outdoors and the impact he made upon my young mind either. For all you crazy people out there, despite all the Mortal Kombat I’ve played at no point has throwing a spear into someone’s chest seemed appealing but eating a 128 oz. steak? Sign me up! The lesson here is you can never know what will inspire a young mind.

As a young boy I would order the entire rack of baby back ribs at The Ground Round. The waiter would always look to my parents for assurance that this minuscule seven year old could tackle a man sized challenge and my parents would assure him, “Oh, yes, bring them all.” The plates would arrive, no typo, plates plural, and I would set to work. Ribs and fries would be devoured with only the parsley and cole slaw left. “Next time leave that shit in the kitchen and bring a few more ribs,” I would remark to the stunned busboy.

Later in high school my talents would surface in a disturbing way yet again. Every Wednesday you could be Dominos for $1 a slice. Sending me off to school with the best intentions my mother would hand me a $5 bill intended for lunch, a drink and a drink after practice for whatever sport was in season. But my debauchery knew no bounds as I would spend that entire Lincoln on half a pizza all for myself.

And now I find myself an adult trying to eat responsibly. Tonight for dinner is a nice lean piece of chicken and a salad. My former greatness seems a distant dream of the past but it still lurks within. I want to take on the ultimate challenge. If I fail at least I’ll know where I stand in the pantheon of eaters. So I am issuing a call to everyone I know, find a restaurant anywhere, if you’re there, I’m there, where such a challenge exists. Ideally, the whole table eats for free if I match the greatness I feel is within me but regardless I will cover the cost of the meal. The more people with us the better as it will only spur me on to earn something for nothing in our capitalistic society. I will fly anywhere, eat with anyone. I just want my chance to destroy a restaurants bottom line for the night.

This past Saturday, after playing baseball all afternoon, I ate a McDonald’s double quarter-pounder, a large fry, over half a frozen pizza and drank two 40’s. With no effort. Your faith will not be misplaced, I will bring my A-game.

I believe I can do this. I know I can do this. I just need a friend to be there with me.

posted by admin on Mar 16

A friend of mine from DC runs a cooking blog and is currently engaged in ritual internet battle with his arch-rival.
Head to Macheesmo and vote! Be sure to vote for Macheesmo, screw that bastard at ‘food in my beard’.

Everyone who votes receives a smug sense of satisfaction!

posted by admin on Mar 12

From g-chat:

Jay: i’m listening to your new podcast
i have an awesome name for you
“mike soucy’s gaycast”
think about it
Sent at 12:47 PM on Thursday
me: i’m going to sit in the shower and cry for the next 3 hours
Jay: just, let it soak in for a bit
me: how about The Gaycast with your host Mike Soucy
Jay: i like it!
me: Mike “The McRib” Soucy
Jay: even better!
or
The McRib Gaycast with your homosexual bbq host Michael Douglas Soucy
me: see i’m worried about all the gay references in the title, i think a certain segment of the population will be very dissapointed when they hear it
Jay: yeah
you dont wantto neglect the gay mcrib demographic
me: unless i jerk a guy off every now and then
Jay: now thats entertainment!

So unless someone comes up with a better title I’ll be giving hand jobs and broadcasting the feed over the internet. 90% sure I’d get a million hits in the first week. Wonder how long before McDonald’s shut that down?

posted by admin on Mar 4

I think this is much funnier then the “Yankee Stadium Fake Proposal”. This involved a good deal of creativity while ruining your friend’s relationship, well, not so much.

posted by Mike on Dec 19

In the past thirty two minutes two rather unique and entertaining things happened to me.

First, my new roommate and I were at Best Buy picking up a kick ass TV for our new apartment. We walked up to the register and had the following exchange:

Me: Should I get it?

Roommate: No, I can get it.

Me: You sure, dude?

Roommate: Yeah, I got it.

The cashier found this a little weird since we were treating a $600 TV like a bar tab at Chili’s. Highly amusing.

#2: To celebrate the new aquisition I stopped and picked up a six-pack of Sierra Nevada. Unfortunately I arrived home to realize we have no bottle opener in our new apartment. After shredding my knuckles attempting to use keys to gain access to the magical liquid within the brilliant idea hit me to use actual tools! 30 seconds and a pair of plyers later and I’m enjoying beer with the Purest Ingredients and of the Finest Quality.

posted by Mike on Nov 3

I finally feel recovered from this weekend.

Friday morning I drove six hours to my girlfriend’s in Harrisonburg, VA for Halloween party #1 of the weekend. Between my obsession with sports jerseys as a kid and a trip to townie Wal-Mart we were set on costumes. I went as a “Horny” Referee (people are always too politically correct to mention this part of long-distance relationships) and my girlfriend went as Steve Beuerlein. I’m partially anti-couple costumes but I am very anti-repeat costumes. I have to make an exception for my girlfriend going as Beuerlein. First, you have to understand, we’re not talking about some bullshit Champion mess jersey with decal designs you wore in the backyard. Wait, scratch that, first I need to explain that Steve Beuerlein was a journeyman QB in the early and mid-90’s. If he was playing today he’d be on Tampa Bay or San Francisco. People who drafted Tom Brady in Fantasy Football would have become very interested in Beuerlein. Anyway, this is an authentic jersey complete with stitched on numbers, logos and name my girlfriend wears. The jersey’s even cut to fit around pads! I cannot even begin to explain why I own this or how awesome it is that I own it. 

Now this leads to the second reason the costume fills every Halloween with instant amusement: it is a lock every guy at a party hits on the girl wearing the insanely obscure, authentic football jersey. And nothing is as entertaining as watching drunk assholes being shot down by the girl you’re with. Seriously, by the end of the night I feel like George Clooney. The party this year wasn’t quite like that because we already knew most of the people but the memories live on in my ego from a year ago.

We started the night by ordering some  Sicilian style pizza which is the greatest food ever. If you don’t know what I’m talking about imagine eating a slice of pizza that makes $100 dollar bills rain down from the ceiling every time you take a bite. Seriously, it is that good. (Can we take a moment to appreciate the fact I avoided the easy but crude “like eating a piece of pizza while you have an orgasm” joke? That took all of my self-restraint.) Somewhere around you probably delivers this pizza, get online and order immediately. 

We arrived at the party and I mingled poorly before giving in and diving headfirst into the keg. Do you ever have those perfect drinking nights? Through some stroke of luck you manage to stay perpetually buzzed while never veering too far into the drunk category. I love those nights, you can talk about the same stupid shit for three hours and never be bored. Friday was one of those nights. Unfortunately, this led to some false confidence the next day. But we’ll get to that.

We have a great time at the party, probably left around 12:30 or 1. At which point I gave two other people rides home. I desperately want to buy a Breathalyzer for these situations because I had been drinking all night and felt fine. And not “I’m really drunk and think I can do anything” fine but normal fine. Maybe, that’s what happens when you talk to people at a party instead of standing in a corner drinking yourself into oblivion. This may warrant further research in the former since I have a PhD in the latter.

The next morning we ate Count Chocula for breakfast. I love America. I ate another slice of Sicilian for lunch and headed out for DC where I would be playing the part of Jan Wolfhouse from Beerfest in a group costume. We even had an Indian guy.

I spent the afternoon watching football and hanging out with a bunch of friends I hadn’t seen in five months. When my emotions run high I eat and drink whatever’s in front of me. Sometimes this creates problems. You can probably see where this is going given the over-confidence Friday night gave me in my drinking abilities.

We went to a huge Halloween party some friends of ours throw every year and as always it kicked ass. My old roommate Liz and I put up a decent showing on the Beer Pong table despite both having to shake off  a significant amount of rust. I mingled for a bit before drunkenly thrusting myself into a flip cup game. Since I cheat at flip cup my skills returned much quicker and my team rolled through some victories. I was talking to the girl I was matched-up against when several things hit me all at once. Suddenly I was very drunk, depressed about being very drunk and could not tolerate talking to another annoying bitch at the flip cup table. I have a serious problem where if you aren’t entertaining me, I hate you.

I stumbled away and summoned the friend who’s couch I was crashing on outside and informed him of my plan: I’d metro back to his apartment and drive two hours to see my girlfriend. Fortunately, he’s known me for a while so he took this in stride before slowly talking me down another path. Mainly, going to Ben’s Chili Bowl and getting chili dogs. He went inside to explain his disappearance to a few people while I debated my options. I called my girlfriend and woke her up to complain, “I want to come see you but Drew won’t let me.” This was at 12:15. She convinced me of several flaws in my plan, namely that if by some miracle I made it to her place when I drunkenly woke her up at 3 in the morning she would not be happy to see me. In hindsight this is understandable.

Anyway, this is my one regret of the night (scratch that, I also regret not eating Jumbo Slice). I bailed without saying bye to a bunch of people but considering that’s how I typically behaved while I lived in DC they shouldn’t be too surprised. Speaking of, does anyone else have this problem? And by this I mean the following (I may start using only pronouns, no more of that amateur shit for me). Sometimes I get bored-drunk. Everything feels pedestrian and beneath me and staying where I am another minute is torture beyond measure. I can only think of a handful of other times this has occurred (one being a rather unique New Years Eve in New Zealand) and I really don’t understand it. Within five seconds things switch from incredibly fun to unbearably boring. Level of drunkenness doesn’t seem to matter and it’s not that I’m tired but I have lost ALL interest in doing what I am doing. My only theory is that I hit a metaphorical “pitch count” when I’m talking to people I don’t know and can only be gregarious until I hit my count. At which I point the coach heads out to the mound and my night is done. How obvious is it that I already miss baseball? Does this happen to anyone else? Am I just really weird? That seems possible.

The next morning I left about 7:45 to drive the 8 1/2 hours back to Georgia. Because Virginia is run by fascists I got a fucking speeding ticket. It’s my first ever. It sucked, I really don’t recommend it. The worst part was having another six hours to drive where I 100% could not be pulled over. It was a very long drive.

But a fun weekend.

It’s not a habit, it’s cool I feel alive