Hopping MADD at Grand Theft Auto

Gaming has suddenly vaulted into the world's third most popular solitary pursuit, second only to the more cost-effective, not to mention better bang for for your entertainment buck, masturbation, and of course, sleep---the latter engaged in to a lesser extent by gamers, the former much more so for reasons obvious to anyone but gamers.

As we noted previously, in our post 'Drink & Drive your way through Grand Theft Auto' the latest entry in the infamous Grand Theft Auto series has many critics wondering how many more banana peels line that already slippery slope toward social upheaval, not to mention a full-on revival of Vaudeville comedy.

The world's foremost ribbon dissemination organization, Mothers Against Drunk Driving ha recently petitioned the Entertainment Software Rating Board (ESRB) to "reclassify Grand Theft Auto IV as an 'Adults Only' title" in reaction to the inclusion of drunk driving in the role-playing game, which allows you to basically run the gamut of antisocial behaviors that would garner both a pat on the back from Eliot Spitzer and a chest bump from your local Cripp.

Apparently, the virtual imbibing of alcohol in the game, (which augments the very real smoking of weed that usually goes along with this sort of activity), blurs the screen and complicates the driving controls---which seem to us a very realistic admonishment, but to MADD is a trivialization of the very serious issue that is driving while impaired.

Be that as it may, the Dukes of Hazard dirt ramp-like leap in logic that a fantasy pursuit dictates how people behave in reality, is one in which we're not ready to make--as our viewing of thousands of horror films and our, as of this writing, failure to commit any comparable acts of butchery, will attest.

While this kind of leisure pursuit offer little in the way of redeeming social value, neither for that matter, does the music of Nickelback (whose singer, apropos of nothing, was recently sentenced for DUI).

A thumbs up to all our gamer friends, down to MADD and speaking of digits....watch out for that carpal tunnel.

Teen Girl DUI: Drunk driver, 14, with mom in car

Whether it’s wowing Guitar Hero’s aging demographic with one’s innate ability to shred, making the competition look like dunderheads in a spelling bee or doing complex mathematical equations on the back of a Hello Kitty lunchbox, we live in a society where precociousness, however smug-seeming and nauseating it is for those without kids, is celebrated.

This sort of admiration carries over to a certain extent in manners of drinking. We all admired the kind of guy who was capable of out-drinking our parents when he was 15, and, years later, we’re happy to tip him for giving the windshield a good scrub when we go in for a fill-up. But this respect does not extend to youthful drunk drivers. If there is an upside to drunk-driving, or, as we call it, the orange pylon obstacle course home from the bar, it’s that most of the time those committing this offence are older, and thus benefit somewhat from more experience behind the wheel – this to be judged in proportion with the fact that they may well be seeing two of everything through one squinting eye while peering out over a steering wheel.

When alcohol levels are high and driving experience at a minimum, all hell can and often does break loose. When the following story came across the wires, we recalled the chapter in The Shark Book dedicated to youthful alcoholic indiscretions “The Halls of Drunker Learning: Grade A Boozing”, particularly the case of the young hellion who the source newspaper claimed was then “The UK’s youngest ever drunk driver” first arrested for taking the wheel after getting soused at Christmas dinner. At 14, she was still unrepentant and made a flashy showing at a court hearing by showing up in a gold-chain plus all-white ensemble to cuss out the judge, throw eggs at reporters and clock the crown prosecutor.

Alas, this story does not involve such entertaining theatrics, but it could very well end up as at least an honorable mention when this year’s “You Deserve Another Mother” awards are handed out. The 14-year-old in this story earned her DUI stripes while out for a drive with ma. Momsy was passed out in the passenger’s seat sleeping one off while her drunken daughter veered wildly around on the road, eventually rolling the Dodge Caravan in a ditch. According to reports it took Department of Transportation officials “considerable time” to clean up all of the beer bottles and malt liquor containers that flew out of the vehicle.

"I can't even wrap my brain around how you would let your 14-year-old daughter drive drunk, let alone drive with her," said one local cop. Efforts to solve this mystery were not helped by the drunken babbling responses of the mother who went on to deny criminal wrongdoing in the case.

Drunk Tank-Driver Smashes House in Vodka Run

In The Shark Book, we devoted an entire chapter, “Hard Corps Drunks: The Few, The Brave, The Blotto” to the exploits in liquid form of those in uniform – among them a young recruit nearly blinded while playing a boozy game of “fireball hockey” [it’s aptly named] at an Army base, and a navy man whose fecal foray onto shore left a bad impression, and a bad smell in town.

But possibly the most shocking of all of these, or at least the one that you would expect the firing squad to start tuning up for, was the sale of a tank by Russian army forces to their Chechen enemies for around 8,000 bucks after the two opposing sides voted for peace by laying down their weapons and drinking their faces off together for an afternoon. That story and another about a Russian soldier who stole a dinghy from the merchant ship he was on and nearly perished at sea in violent weather just to procure some vodka on land are both instructive preludes to the following.

The cold Russian winters no doubt gave the soldiers manning a tank in the Ural mountains a hankering for some liquid warmth, and they stopped off in a nearby village to procure a couple of bottles of vodka for the journey. Fortunately, some quick-thinking citizen had his mobile phone at the ready to catch the aftermath: after picking up the booze, the apparently drunk driver then got back into the tank and proceeded to crash it into a nearby house.

A lenient Army colonel made the following comment on the incident: "Of course, there were violations but the crew acted in good faith to catch up with its unit." That the crew stopped off in this village to fuel up in such a manner was something he did not touch upon in his statement.

The video is below, and while neither of us, unless the hour is late and we’re drinking the good stuff, can speak much Russian, here is what we guess was said at the start of it:

Driver: I got it! Couple of bottles of the cheap stuff. Bootleggers eh! (Laughs and drunkenly fishes through his pocket for his keys).

Other soldier: Say, are you alright to drive? Maybe I should take over while you get some sleep.

Driver: Nonsense! I'm fine! You’re such a worry wort! I barely had anything to drink, besides, I had a heavy lunch. No problem!

Other soldier: Wait! Too fast!

(Screams from the person whose house has just underwent impromptu renovations)

Nicolas Cage Suing Kathleen Turner: Cage Meet his Match?

Call it 'low talker' versus 'slow talker'. Tranny-voiced has-been Kathleen Turner has apparently got actor Nicolas Cage, (who speaks slower than a phone sex operator with a thyroid condition), in her cross hairs.

"That stupid voice of his and the fake teeth! Honestly, I cringe to think about it. He caused so many problems."

Such invectives could just as easily be tossed Paul Anka's way, but it's 'problem-generator' Cage who doesn't come off too 'Super' in Turner's forthcoming autobiography, 'Send Yourself Roses', which also notes, while we're on the subject of physical appearance, teeth, etc:

"I was no great beauty. I was a skinny woman with long legs, almost no boobs, good hair and bad teeth . . . the studio had a fake cover made for them, which was awkward. It changed my lips and the way I spoke. It was uncomfortable, too."

In the soon-to-be-released tome, (which has nothing whatsoever to do with 'View' drunkard and War of the Roses co-star Danny Devito despite its similarly efflorescent title), Turner refers to working with Burt Reynolds as 'nasty' and she even accuses the aforementioned (and fellow hairpiece aficionado) Nicolas Cage of being in trouble with the law, and being arrested twice for drunk driving. And now, it seems, Mr cage is taking the matter to the courts.

Turner herself admits a fondness for the drink, and admits to using it to dull the pain of arthritis, which in retrospect was probably a better treatment option than Vioxx.

"I discovered that vodka killed it quite wonderfully. I didn't want to take painkillers because I didn't like the way they mucked up my mind, so I used alcohol instead", notes the star of Body Heat and Baby Geniuses.

We Shark Guys have covered comparably asymmetric celebrity squabbles here (no lawsuits yet) while Cage and Clooney's status is without question A-level, the jury's out as to whether a more powerful telescope is required to detect either a Turner or a Fabio's star power, at least until the Italian loses and/or cuts his locks or the former stops appearing nude on stage and getting sued by Supermen.

Drunk Driver Calls 911 on Self: Hello Wisconsin!

As we've noted in previous posts, to the point of smacking our heads repeatedly against the steering wheel in frustration, we unequivocally, in no way whatsoever endorse impaired driving---our Top Ten Greatest Drinking & Driving Anthems of All Time referring solely to the soundtrack of a drunken, Grand Theft Auto game in the confines of one's moldy basement.

That being said, we've taken great pleasure here in pointing out the folly of those who do get behind the wheel blotto and while this may not garner any favor with those who fly red ribbons from their antennae, we'd be hypocrites if we claimed otherwise---as authors of a sizable chapter in our book entitled, Contents May Shift in Transit: Drunk and on the Move.

In a subsection of the above, Chariots of Firewater no less, we noted a drunk driver in Germany who got sidetracked with a flat, and in a breach of male etiquette dictating that you change your own damn tire drunk or otherwise, decided to phone for help. In his compromised state, he unwittingly called police instead of roadside assistance, presumably missing the 'Hello---police', on the other end and then blurting out that a mechanic should be dispatched post-haste as he was very drunk and things would turn ugly for him if the cops arrived. Which they did.

In Wisconsin, a woman decided to call 911 dispatch while driving home drunk from a local watering hole. The following is a transcript of the conversation.

Caller: I just want to know if somebody can follow me home because somebody seems to think I can't drive home straight.

911 Operator: OK, why is that?

Caller: He seems to think I am too intoxicated to drive.

911 Operator: OK, and so you called 911, or he called 911?

Caller: Well, he wanted me to call 911 because he thinks I'm too drunk to drive.

The 'he' in this case was a boyfriend who'd consumed a 12-pack by himself, yet still had the wherewithal to point out the driver, who'd knocked back 6, should not be getting behind the wheel (and yet no foresight or judgment whatsoever to pass up a ride home).

The woman failed the Breathalyzer and was ticketed in her own garage, but not before earning the unlikely kudos from a county sheriff (possibly, a distant relation):

"I think a judge will look at her and say, 'You know what? You stepped up to the plate. You did the right thing. I think it's commendable."

Keep your Eyes on the Road Your Hands Upon the Wheel: The Top 10 Drinking & Driving Songs of All Time!

No amount of minty fresh Scope kept in your glove compartment or complaints to an arresting highway officer that you are heavily medicated and having one of your "spells" is likely to keep you from a night in the drunk tank that would not be nearly as romantic, or as free from dangerous lunatics, as it sounds in that Pogues song.

Not surprisingly, drinking and driving, like most other social vices we've chronicled here, has found its way into popular music, and, we Shark Guys, much like we did in our infamous Da Nose Knows: Top 10 Cocaine Songs of All time, have tracked 'em down for you in list form, saving you monthly investments in those Time Life infomercial hits compilations, not to mention countless hours.


The Top 10 Drinking and Driving Songs of All Time!!

Editor's Note: Disclaimer: The authors in no way condone drinking and driving—unless it’s done on a closed course while a paint-by-numbers buddy flick is being shot (and if the car did happen to careen out of control, modern cinema would benefit from it skidding right through Michael Bay—folding chair and megaphone).



10. "One for My Baby" (and One More for the Road)
The catch phrase that started it all for the asphalt slalom set, "One for the Road", as performed by the Chairman of the Board (oh that we could have co-chaired a meeting, we would've delighted in drinking ourselves under the mahogany table alongside the Rat Pack -- no doubt outlasting Sammy, Peter Lawford and Joey Bishop, though Mister Frank and Dino would likely have been a greater challenge).

We're drinking my friend
To the end of a brief episode
So make it one for my baby
And one more for the road



9. "Have a Drink on Me" by AC/DC. Five spirits distilled into one simple rhyming scheme, from the boys Down Under: Attempt mix in the comforts of your own home or cheap motel where they didn't ask for your credit card.

"Oh! Whiskey, gin and brandy
With a glass I'm pretty handy
I'm trying to walk a straight line,
On sour mash and cheap wine"




8. From our hip hop friends, because we love puffy jackets as much as the next guys, and appreciate the urging of friends to assist in times of crisis, it’s “Get Buck”, by Young Buck

“Let's play the game I'm the quarterback, don't stop homey
I go to jail if I get sacked, so block for me…
Drunk drivin’ in my Cut dog,
I got my truck parked
Seventy Two Tennessee Titan, like what up y'all?!”

While we’re not certain exactly what this means, you can certainly tap your foot to it, and references like this will help the sagging domestic car industry and sales of Cutlass Supremes.


7. Some classic tear in your beer twang, performed by everyone from Springsteen to Acuff, "Wreck on the Highway"

"There was whiskey and blood all together
Mixed with glass where they lay
Death played her hand in destruction
But I didn't hear nobody pray."




6. A statistical argument from NOFX in "You Drink, You Drive, You Spill"

" 35% of accidents are caused by pixilated, the other 65 are not alcohol related what does this tell us about the drunk drivers? they seem to have a better record than the sober team "

5. Because they found it relaxing -- "Lovin’ Cup", by the Rolling Stones

"Yes, I'm fumbling and I know my car don't start.
Yes, I'm stumbling and I know I play a bad guitar.
Give me a little drink from your loving cup. Just one drink and I'll fall down drunk."

4. For its deep sense of loyalty, “Sugar Magnolia”, by the Grateful Dead

“She takes the wheel when I’m seein’ double, pays my ticket, when I speed.”

3. For its declaration of effortlessness and clarity, we go with "It’s So Easy" from the seminal “Appetite for Destruction” album by Guns ‘N’ Roses.
“Cars are crashin' every night, I drink ‘n' drive everything's in sight.”

2. "Roadhouse Blues", the Doors. For advanced 'orange pylon avoidance' technique:
“Keep your eyes on the road, your hands upon the wheel.”









1. If Drinking Don’t Kill Me, Her Memory Will, as performed by George Jones. This melancholy ode from a guy who sings it like it is (if it "is" really, really bad) is perhaps the quintessential drinking and driving sing-along:

“I lay my head on the wheel
and the horn begins honkin’,
the whole neighborhood knows, that I’m home drunk again.”

Shia Laboeuf drunk: actor Shia's not so 'Sunni' Disposition

As our devoted readership may have noticed during down time between scheduled Thorazine dosages, we Shark Guys are very reluctant to comment on celebrity transgressions -- mainly because we hope to one day run in those circles and don't want future champagne and orange juice breakfasts ruined by tension resulting from a post here -- but since neither of us had heard of Shia LaBeouf (which sounds like a 'Bichon Frise' that would leave tiny clumps of poop in some of the finer manicured parkettes in Manhattan's Upper East Side, or a lip-synching drag act in the outer suburbs of Marseilles) we figured he/she/it was fair game.

Due to the fact that we're a good 2o or so years removed from sitting cross-legged on the living room floor and having our GI Joes violate Geneva Conventions with our sisters' Army Brat edition Barbies, neither of us had seen the Transformers movie, but upon cross-referencing of numerous Google sources it appears he was in it.

Since neither of us wakes up during daylight hours, we were also unable to confirm or deny (we'd grown weary of cross-referencing Google sources at this point) whether he'd won a Daytime Emmy Award either.

Be that as it may, Shia has somehow found himself on our boozing radar, the coordinates of which are typically more fine tuned and for which we likely now have to call a repairman. Regardless, the star of Surf's Up and the latest Indiana Jones installment was recently arrested for allegedly drunken disorderly conduct and criminal trespassing in the wee hours of the early morning, wandering around a Chicago chain drug store, and while we can appreciate the need to pick up some domes and perhaps a sugary late night snack for a lady friend at such an unorthodox hour, testing the wild-eyed, insomnious patience of a security guard with a billy club isn't advisable, especially without greater star recognition.

Speaking of which, Rebecca DeMornay, appropriately enough the star of Risky Business (whose tastes in men ranges from the ridiculous to the sublime--Tom Cruise and Leonard Cohen, respectively) was recently busted for a DUI in Beverly Hills.

The Shark Guys

Drinking and driving in the deathmobile

Unless you’re a signatory to some government/Nasa Area 51 non-disclosure pact, or otherwise other-stratosphere rich, it’s unlikely that your desire to have your ashes fired off into space along with the charred remains of your lifetime accumulation of Star Wars memorabilia will be accommodated. As such, your final ride on this earth, or to put it another way, God’s checkered flag coming down on the victory lap of your life, will be in a hearse – and hopefully not the late model, back-firing jalopy pictured here. [Editor’s Note: This would of course precede, depending on your particular religious beliefs, you being shot up to heaven via some kind of seraphic service elevator.]

Hearses were originally horse-drawn and lest you think the word itself was derived from a slurred, drunken elocution of "horse"—unfortunately, it wasn’t. (The origin of "hearse" isn’t that compelling and for a dreary explanation click here, or feel free to circulate our more interesting derivation). What's certain though, is stopping every hundreds yards or so for an equine plop must’ve really detracted from the solemnity of the proceedings, and resulted in the wiping of many an extra tear and the covering of many a nose.

The development of the internal combustion engine (the trend of caskets being pulled by a convoy of underpaid cyclists having been short-lived) put an end to the funereal use of beasts of burden, giving rise to consumers having a whole range of opulent choices like Rolls Royce, Jaguars or Mercedes, so that their final commute to that big, luxury showroom in the sky is a smooth one. For the easy-riding set, there’s even a motorcycle-style hearse with a sidecar—not recommended for navigating winding, hilly terrain (or for those with any sense of dignity and decorum).

In New Zealand, a beer-guzzling mourner took a hearse out for a mid-funeral "joy ride", though it’s hard to grasp how much joy could have been derived from the stunt given both what we would assume to be the solemnity of the day and the fact that the weighty conveyance couldn’t even outrun a postal vehicle, except on a 30-degree slope with a stomach-stapling casualty riding in the rear.

Indeed, while the authors of The Shark Book covered the aftermath of the customary booze-up that is part of many earthly farewells in a chapter of the book entitled "Last Call and Last Rites: Funereal Debauchery", none of those mashed mourners went so far as to steal a hearse (though one drunk non-mourner did plow through a funeral procession, which, in one of the book's darker ironies, was being held for a person killed by a drunk driver).

With numerous police officers on hand, eating up time and a half as they always are on such occasions, and lead-foot funeral directors in hot pursuit, the hearse thief, who’d been drinking all day, didn’t get far. Upon his capture, the one that didn’t get away told authorities he was "going fishing", but that first he wanted to "check out the sea conditions”. And yes, just in case you were wondering, a delivery was not waiting in the back of the commandeered death wagon. [Full story here]

The Shark Guys

Dui arrest for shortest drive EVER. Are we there yet? Yes!

The automobile has been singled out as a major contributor to obesity in Western nations, mostly by tweedy intellectual blowhards rich enough to live exactly where they want – within an argyle-sweatered walk to the organic squash market and work – who feel the need to criticize folks who’d rather not add the misery of a long bus ride to the day’s complaints.

In Ontario, Canada, where a government monopoly on the sale of beer and liquor puts a quest for a case on a winter’s weekend somewhere near the level of one of the early polar expeditions for those without a car, a service called “Dial-a-bottle” has stepped in, offering delivery of all of the essentials – beer, cigarettes and condoms – to your front door for a nominal fee.

Such services, however, are also popular in places where liquor stores are on every corner block (in less toney neighborhoods generally) and fetching one’s hooch would involve only a short stumble down the road. In these cases, unless one is disabled or seeks to avoid social interaction with anyone outside of their inner circle of lay-about friends, using a vehicle to procure one’s booze, or having it delivered, is indeed quite slothful. If nothing else, the walk to the liquor store helps circulate the blood in your legs for a brief period, buying you more time later to laze about and get blasted without fear of muscle atrophy.

A Welshman set a new standard in sloth and quite possibly a record for the shortest DUI run ever when he decided to drive the 30 meters from his home to the suitably named “Bargain Booze” completely blotto. Staff members at the store, despite what one might infer from the name of the place, are circumspect when it comes to refusing to serve the visibly inebriated and would not sell him any more booze. When they saw the man stumble out to his car bleary-eyed, they phoned police.

The man was arrested a mere five minutes later at his home address and told police that he couldn’t be bothered walking. Whether the sentence he received was fair – three months in jail and a suspended license for three years – is debatable. Given the short distance between home and liquor store, the odds were against him doing much harm (unless little Johnny Appleseed next door happened to be out on his new two-wheeler at the time) but on the basis of sheer laziness, perhaps the sentence was fitting. (Full story here)

Kentucky Derby of another kind! Scooter Lippy

Unless you’re Italian, romancing a woman on the French Riviera, a woman, or in the best-case daydream scenario, all of the above, it’s hard to pull off "scooter cool". If you dug out a Ouija board to buzz Jimmy Dean, he’d refer you to George Clooney’s personal stylist so that you could be slapped bitchily upside the noggin for the mere suggestion of such a thing.

Scooters, often called "Vespas" by people whose self-loathing is so profound they can’t come to terms with the fact they’re driving scooters, are quite possibly the most uncool conveyance this side of a Segway scooter helmed by a black-stockinged, sandal-wearer whose comb-over isn’t even messed up by the lack of a breeze kicked up by his lame ride.

A Kentucky man piloting a scooter, likely worried that he’d have to suffer justifiable raillery from his buddies, did his very best approximation of cool—licking his fingers and pulling out a wad of cash and counting it—undoubtedly among the coolest of maneuvers, especially at the craps table—were it not that he was attempting to bribe an arresting DUI officer with a line of crap.

The suspect, according to officials, "flipped money open to reveal $100 bills," and, in a move reminiscent of The Shark Book authors when the tab is about to be settled, promised more $$$ at a later date, saying “I will give you $3,500 to make sure that warrant doesn’t go through that jail”. The guy had an outstanding warrant for a probation violation of a felony theft, so we can speculate as to how he came by the $500 in his wallet, (how he arrived at the $3,500 figure we can't hope to guess), but in a very bald-faced act, he did offer the arresting officer a number to call to collect the rest.

Drunk mom picks up DUI son: That's NOT Alright, Mama

The following story proves that a maternal bond...er... can’t always be... posted.

Allow us to explain.

A precocious young’un in Hilltown, Pennsylvania, precocious not because he could solve cubic polynomials in his head or compose didactic sonnets but because he drove drunk at a middle-aged level-- was nabbed by cops engaging in the type of driving that would even cause road rage on the bumper car circuit.

The cops, sensing that the 16-year old had recently gotten his swerve on, administered a breathalyzer to the toasted young helmsman in the wee hours of the morning. Registering top marks on the device, the fuzz contacted the ruffian’s mom to come and pick up the blasted DUI valedictorian.

His mom, who we’ll call ‘stupid’ here to protect her identity, herself engaging in the ‘how the hell else am I supposed to get there, walk?’ school of drunk driving, failed the field sobriety tests at the police station upon arrival. Mama was promptly arrested on DUI charges as well.

“If she had admitted to us in the beginning she was drinking, we would have made other arrangements to get the (teen) home,” noted the police chief, who probably sprung for a cab just in case pops would've happened by for the blotto trifecta.