Loko For Four Loko

Backstreet's back. Alright? Alright. The day to revive this august endeavor has come in the noble form of Ocho Loko (copyright T. Ewart FiggityFaust) and it is going to be...rude.

The rules are as follows:
1. The first rule of Ocho Loko is you talk about it all day.
2. No poofters.
3. Everybody has to get their two dranks on of the alcoholic energy, unless you're a huge biddie like Dwyane Wade and drink one. It's your prerogative, Britney Spears, but you're still a mcgudista (you said it first).
4. No poofters.
5. T-Pain isn't allowed to fall asleep too early like a gramps mcgude.

And that's it. So come one, come all, come on your suit (it's ice cream!) and join your friendly oat correspondent for a merry day of foolish consumption, football, auction drafts, course add/dropping, funky man funky town, interviews, cryptic sniveling, bacon, Kids, and everything else.

Starting upon my return from British Columbia bright and early Wednesday morning.

Drank Status: I actually had a couple glasses of wine tonight with dinner. And cheesecake. Fratty!
Bod Status: Full of steak and cheesecake. And, of course, sarcastically sexy.
Mood: Albatross.

See you Wednesday rudeboys. It'll be a day to remember, no diggity.