JP Lowery
As eternal as the sunshine, JP Lowery has returned to D3. He will once again be filling the Internet with more offensive and sometimes coincidently pointed take on life. So consider yourself warned: If you are easily offended or lack a sense of humour (which you most likely do if you are easily offended) please consider not reading the following article. You have been warned!!!
Attempting the Impossible
During the holiday season, I often find myself in deep moments of reflection. It could be that I have gone through 2 bottles of rum and 8 cartons of eggnog, but I think it has more to do with the festive season….ok, maybe not.
With the holiday season comes a time of celebration with friends and family, and reflecting on the memories of holidays past, I came to a startling revelation. With Christmas, comes a time of great competition. When time is spent with family and friends, it is only a matter of time before “who gets the best presents” and “who can throw the snowball further” become staples of the season. Challenges are issued on a daily basis, “I bet you can’t tunnel through that pile of snow!” “I bet you can’t hit Santa with a snowball!”, and “I bet I can write my name in the snow with pee better than you can!”. Every year I never back from such challenges, and have regretted many, including the fateful challenge that auntie Maureen had second mouth between her legs…well, I won, and it wasn’t as second mouth, but it was frothing.
Last years challenge was much different. It was something special. I was out with some friends, trekking through the snow, when I heard the words spoken from a friend, “You can’t get drunk of Baileys!!”….Ohhh I beg to differ. I heard arguments of the cream in the bailey’s coating your stomach and preventing drunkenness, but I pushed forth and went on to do the impossible…get drunk off baileys. To keep the experiment fair, my lifelong partner in crime, identified in this story only as “Sand Nigger” embarked on the mission with me. 40’s of Bailey's in hand, and ice cube trays filled in the freezer, we began. As the night went on, and the bottles starting to empty, we realized that this might be an unattainable feat, we might just be wrong. As we took our last sips, finishing the bottles, we stood up, and about to admit defeat…I fell over. It hit me like a brick wall. It hit the sand nigger soon after and we stumbled around, hailing our victory.
The message behind this Christmas miracle is that anything is possible. You miss all the shots you don’t take, and nobody likes rude kids and sand niggers…especially rude, sand nigger children.
Merry Christmas
J.P. Lowery