Punch Drunk # 6

"It’s a mind-set programmed by bars, advertising and peers. Drink cheap, drink now, drink often! Sometimes it’s not the quality of the liquor in question, it’s how much and how fast we swallow this swill.
There’s no novelty when it comes to twentysomethings overindulging on liquids that could probably run a Prius." - "Quality Drinking" - Punch Drunk # 6, Style Weekly


The sixth edition of my column Punch Drunk came out today. And....Big surprise here, it's about drinking. More specifically, drinking like a seasoned pro instead of drinking like a sophomore at Longwood. Click here or go find that big red box with an (S) on it.

There Is No Bad Press

Local strip club owner, acquitted murderer, self-proclaimed "staunch Libertarian", and all-around good guy- Mr. Sam "J.T." Moore is at it again....

I've written about this guy and his gentleman's club (JackGoesToVelvet) many times. His den of dirty girls is located one block from where I work. We even share the same hair stylist.

Moore is known statewide for his many brushes with the law and his P.T. Barnum-like showmanship. Examples including but not limited to giant spotlights on the roof of his building, hiring homeless people to promote his business on their cardboard begging signs, H2 Hummers wrapped in pictures of half-nude women constantly circling the city and gigantic banners proclaiming his often controversial views on local and national politics.

Well, Sammy dropped another divisive bomb on the city today, unfurling this huge banner on the side of his building:

Predictably the NAACP is already out in full force, pulling the race card. Mr. Moore's response? "Anyone who thinks this banner is racist is an ignoramus." Here's a YouTube video from earlier today that was shot from the scene of the protest.

I won't comment on whether or not I agree with Moore, but this latest act of patriotism, uhh, I mean aggressive marketing, will surely catapult him and Club Velvet back into the local and possibly national spotlight for weeks to come. Which means attention, which means people, which means money.

Bravo ol'boy. Bravo.

Hopefully he can take this latest spike in interest and use it to find a better brand of stripper. You know, ones that you actually want to see naked.

Rumple Minze Networking Twitter Group

*Rumpy

Yeah yeah yeah a day hardly passes without me mentioning Rumple Minze. What can I say? I cherish its existence. I celebrate its entire catalogue. I sip it, chug it, shoot it, enema it, use it to power my riding lawn mower, sometimes I even put a little in my hair after a long day, what do you think keeps it up slick?

For those of you not in the know, Rumple Minze is a 100-proof liqueur that is, ohh, how you say, really fucking minty. It also has a cousin, Rumple "berry" minze.

So anyways, I'm always hearing about all these local tweeters having this Hashbrown Networking event at Waffle House. Bonding over pancakes and shit. That's all well and good, cause duh, we all love pancakes. But meeting people over a delicious breakfast just isn't my thing. That's fine for thecheckoutgirl , JephKelley, and RVANEWS, the funny, friendly, "hey I really want to meet up and hang ten" crowd. But what about the other side? The slightly dysfunctional/surly side to RVA blogging? At the moment only myself, LoneWolf, OMGWTFRVA, and Jocelyn come to mind (and possibly this heyitsphil guy). Where are our hashbrowns dammit?!

This is why I've created the Rumple Minze Networking group. Date, time and location TBA. All I know is that wherever it is, they better have a kings ransom worth of the Rumple. And if for whatever reason Rumple Minze isn't your thing, that's cool, just hang your little sun dress back in the closet and don't come.

Anyone interested in meeting, nay, pardy-hardying, with like-minded people who laugh at the other people who take this social media networking thing way to seriously- hit me @jackgoesforth or at #rumpleminzenetworking

Style Weekly doesn't know it yet, but they're sponsoring the event. And by sponsoring I mean they're driving me to and from the event, and supplying me with a pack of Camel Lights for the glorious occasion.

Things I'm Doing To Maintain My Manhood In The Face Of Relationship-Hood

Only crying in private.

Making fun of my friends who have been in relationships longer. Fucking pussies.

Furiously masturbating to porno I was into pre-relationship-hood (see: Pam Anderson sextape, Bukkake vids, Colin Farrell sextape...wait, huh?)

Drinking to excess... When the girlfriend is out of town of course.

Not playing with her pet schnauzer nearly as much as I used to.

Getting into this UFC thingie. That Simba Slice is the best fighter guy on YouTube, uhh, right?

Getting way over-involved with my favorite NFL team every Sunday. "Did you see that shit baby?! If Romo would've just looked him down for a second longer we would've had seven! Fuck!"

The resumption of looking people directly in the eyes during conversation, in lieu of their feet.

Beating up the occasional hobo. Only the invalid ones though.

Applying for bartending gigs at strip clubs.

Listening to Horrorcore non-stop.

Ewww, a bit too soon for that joke?

Not shaving.

Looking forlornly at my single friends as I choke back tears and whispering things under my breath to make myself feel better. "Those fuckers don't get laid nearly as much I do..." "Independence is just another word for loneliness..."

Putting out lit cigarettes on my forearm.

Privatizing Virginia's Booze Industry?

In my previous Style Weekly column I chided the state's Alcohol Beverage Control as a "monopoly" and as "unscrupulous with its syndicated control over the hard booze industry in the Commonwealth."

Little did I know*, Republican Candidate for Governor (and the current front-runner) Bob McDonnell has proposed privatizing Virginia's ABC stores as a quick fix solution for the multitude of pricey road improvements needed here in VA. A Washington Post article from July laid out some of the pros and cons that such an undertaking would involve. It should also be noted that McDonnell's Democratic rival, Creigh Deeds, has also said that such a plan is certainly being examined by his team as a way of raising much needed funds.

"Privatization of the liquor stores would generate at least $500 million in one-time payments to the state, plus income and property taxes over time, according to McDonnell. But about $100 million in annual earnings generated by the stores that goes to the state's general fund would be lost."


It's not clear if the privatization of ABC stores would necessarily change the arcane rules that govern liquor in VA, but it seems like it would have to if the Government wasn't able to tell the retail stores what to do anymore. Uh-oh, Pantele and the VABC Mafiaheads may be looking for new jobs come November.



*Pro-tip: Style Weekly reader Rebecca Lord.

The 27th Year...

I turn 26 in a few days. To say I'm less than excited about it would be an understatement. All I hear from people is that your late twenties and early thirties are the best time to be alive. You have more experience yet you still have your youth, "an unstoppable combination" they say. While it's true, I do see some of my older, still single friends making oodles of money, sleeping with troves of 21 year old girls and generally behaving like they were in still in college, I'm just not sold on the idea yet.

An unsteady employment situation and the fact that I still reside at my mother's house probably isn't the combination they meant when they said "unstoppable". In fact, I feel very stoppable at the moment.

For the people who were here when I started this blog almost two years ago, a confused young man is someone you have become accustomed to. Well, he's still here and from the looks of it, he ain't going anywhere, anytime soon.

Although a certain blogger's girlfriend did get him Seinfeld tickets for this weekend, so I guess it's not as bad as I make it out to be.

And I mean, it's not like I spent a half hour today applying for a bartending gig at a strip club.... I'm not that crazy yet... Oh, wait....

Punch Drunk # 5

"Virginia’s mafialike hold over the hooch is one thing, but the appointment of Bosnia Bill to its top spot is another. This is a man whose drinking prowess I once aided with five “double bourbon- rocks” at Havana ’59. I subsequently got fired for blogging about it. "
- "Bourbon, Bosnia and Balliceaux" - Punch Drunk # 5, Style Weekly

The fifth edition of my column Punch Drunk came out today. This week I took on Virginia and our local alcohol power elite. If I disappear in the next few days, tell the world my story.

Read the piece here or hit your local street corner and find a big red box with an S on it.

I'm Big With The Older Banking Crowd

"I am a “conservative” local banker who lives in the “conservative” near West End and religiously picks up Style Weekly at Ukrop’s once a week when I’m swinging by for a salad and ice tea. (Wonder if that will continue when Harris Teeter shows up. ... oh well, that’s another story.) In the Sept. 2 issue I fell out of my seat with laughter towards the end of my read after finding Jack Lauterback’s piece (“Social Studies,” Food & Drink) tucked away on page 40. You would think this “conservative,” 48-year-old native Richmonder would be sending a “this is awful, lewd and inappropriate” letter to the editor but I found Jack’s article funny, exciting and I wanted to come park myself at his bar to watch all of these characters! Thanks for the laugh and maybe move him up a few pages!"

Ann-Cabell Williams, Henrico, VA - StyleWeekly Sept. 15th.


Thanks for the shout out Ann. Feel free to swing by the bar for a cocktail on me. -Jack

Alcohol Advertising For "Real Men"

Ketel One Vodka Commercial:

Guy: "What should we do tonight?"

Other Guy: "I have an idea."

Guy: "Yeah broseph?"

Other Guy: "Let's put on our matching black suits, call the homie Bryce and the homie James, go find a semi-deserted bar, and drink nothing but Ketel One, rocks."

Guy: "Whoa, guys night! Lets not shave either. 5 o' clock shadows scream, "BADASS SINGLE GUY...GETTING HIS DRINK OOOOWWWWWWNNNN!"

Other Guy: "Also, lets remember to be "unmoved by the constant herd of the crowd." Instead, lets sit around with a bunch of similar looking white guys, and one black guy...and drink... wait for it..."

Both: "Ketel One Vodka!!!!" (High five initiated)

Guy: "Oh and make sure you call up our older, perfectly bearded homie Peter. The deep expression lines on his face and the craftsmanship of his beard make him wiser and with him sitting around we'll look all sophisticated and shit."

I love me the Ketel One. It's incredible vodka at a solid price point. Their iconic ads of a blank page with nothing but a witty sentence splashed across it are easily some of the best alcohol related print ads ever made. That's why it's disappointing to see them release some shit commercial of a bunch of generic suits drinking in a bar.

Quote from the commercial: "There was a time when men were men...and that time was last night." Psh.

You could replace the glasses of Ketel One in that commercial with Miller Lites (or any other type of booze) and you have a perfectly commonplace, middle of the road, been done a million times before advertisement.

People drink Ketel One for quality, and to be slightly different. That's why the cleverly worded, quirky print ads fit so well with the brand. We don't need another booze commercial that celebrates guys night out with a bunch of sweeping, bold statements, past their prime male models and a few clinks of the glass. Let the Bud Lights of the world handle that.

*If you watch the commercial, you may notice that the douchey bearded guy is a spot-on ringer for the guy in Dos Equis wildly popular "Most Interesting Man" commercials.

Things I'm Into Right Now

Sausage, egg and cheese bagel from Crossroads Coffee on Forest Hill Ave.

Melanie Oudin.

Finding expired, still functional condoms in the trunk of my car at 4 AM. Everyday is Earth Day for me. Go green!

Otis Redding station on Pandora.

Teeth shatteringly cold Rumpleminze.

Proving a bar patron wrong (with extreme prejudice) when they claim their tab is incorrect.

Living vicariously through Dane Acton.

Fruitlessly searching Craigslist for missed connections and for cheap apartments for rent in the metro NYC area.

Boobies. More specifically, my woman's boobies.

Wearing aviators constantly and pretending like I can pull the look off.

Making Long Island Iced Teas.... And Midori Sours... And shots of the Goose... And Coronas with a splash of grenadine in them... No really... I love it.

Reading RoissyInDC, CafeDarkness, TheFoggyMonocle, and Don'tEvenReply.

Reading anything while pooping. Preferably the Richmond Times Dispatch.

Bars that I've never been to (Gay bars).

Losing my temper on people and exploding into a fire ball of non-sensical gibberish. Really into this one recently.

Having the maturity and poise to not turn and around kill one of these old women behind me treating Crossroads Cafe like they're loud Sex and the City wannabe bitches in a bar, making all this goddamn noise and drowning out the mellow stylings of Al Green on my headphones. I'm about to break out my garrote on one these old biddies.... refer to previous "thing I'm into".

Mad Men, Mad Men, Mad Men. Watch it now before I go all Don Draper on your bitch ass.

It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia. New season starts next week. If you like drinking, you like this show. No exceptions.

Melanie Oudin's twin sister.

Taking off my headphones and realizing that one of the old women behind me that's making all of the noise is very, very disabled, mentally and physically.

Having no remorse.

Making out with dudes.

Freshly squeezed orange juice.

Wait, what? What'd you say?

Thursday nights, or as they are becoming known: MommysNiteOut ?

Getting a good buzz on in an effort to last longer in the sack.

The first scissor cut into a fresh piece of construction paper (Stu Griffin).

Smoking and drinking constantly.

Referencing Seinfeld at least 15 times a day.

Thinking of stupid, gimmicky posts for this blog.

Forgetting Stripper Marshall

I was getting eye-balled by some girl at the coffee shop and for the life of me I couldn't remember where the hell I met her. Did I meet her at the bar? Ukrops? Strawberry Hill Races? ...

She kept staring and I kept smoking my cigarette and reading the Richmond Times Dispatch.

Finally she came up and broke the silence.


Her: "You're Jack right? Bartender?"

Me: "Yeah, uhh, you're...."

Her: "XXXXXX, remember me?"

Me: "You look familiar...."

Her: "I gave you a lap dance once hunny."

Me: "Ohhhh, right right. How could I forget?" (still forgetting who she is)

Stripper: "We met at ODC (late, late night bar) that one night, then you came in and saw me at Paper Moon (local strip club) the next week."

Me: (Vaguely recalling...) "Errr, yeah of course. How are you?"

Stripper: "You never called me, asshole."

Me: "Well.....darling....it was a long time ago??? I think?"




Turns out the date I met this particular stripper was November 22nd, 2008. I just so happened to blog about that evening, one of many evenings end spent at Richmond's late night shithole bar, ODC. Read about it here.

2008 was a year in my life that would probably be best if forgotten. Although it's really unlike me to forget past stripper encounters. I should start eating more berries, or carrots, or ginko biloba? What's the food that improves memory?! Fuck!

...And don't even ask me if I slept with this girl. I, ummm, don't recall.

Labor Day Thoughts From The Bar Stool

-I was out at Catch 31 (VA Beach bar, highest liquor volume bar in the state) drinking last night and I swallowed enough Adderall to kill a small horse. How do little kids take this shit everyday? It's legalized cocaine and sadly, I can describe the effects of both...in detail.

-I'm at another VA Beach bar currently, called Mahi Mahs. As is my custom, I've ordered a few shots of Rumpleminze and it has immediately bonded me with the bartender. The minute I said "and a shot of Rumpy". He said, "You're a bartender aren't you?" There's a reason it's referred to as bartender's mouthwash. Ask local Richmond bartender Dane Acton. Guy survives solely on Rumpleminze and the occasional Turkey Leg from Busch Gardens. A medical mystery....

-I had a troupe of Twitterers in the bar on Saturday night. You know the old axiom, "Hardcore Tweeters are dorks and social retards"? Not true. To my surprise, some of them were pretty easy on the eyes. One of them actually said to me, "Hey Jack, that blond at the bar? I'm wanna skull fuck her." Not exactly Twitter material.

-I just bought two older women shots of Rumpy. One of them took my picture and sent it to her 17 year old, senior in high school daughter, who the smart money says, is freakin hot. Damn you, statutory rape laws!!!

One Night

They were all moonstruck. Possessed by something none of them could explain or even cared about. Him and his friends got a few bags around 9 PM.

Around 5:30 AM they decided to catch "first call", the point at which the bars reopen in Virginia and can resume serving alcohol. The only bar they knew of was the 24 hour place on 3rd street. Aptly named, the 3rd St. Diner. A place notorious as an early morning stripper hangout where typically the clientele (in addition to the washed up strippers) consisted of dangerous hobos and other habitual drink and drug abusers.

The vodka cranberries flowed, the Rumplemintz flowed. He blew a line off the back of a toilet stall.

He spoke with a 70 year old man at 7 in the morning about college basketball for a half an hour. The old man was drinking Miller Lite and had to be at his volunteer job, at The Red Cross, at 8 AM. The two made promises with each other to meet up for a free throw contest sometime.

At 9 AM they stumbled out of the diner and into the blinding sunlight. He proceeded to vomit all over the drive-thru of the bank next to the diner. The teller looked on with a bemused expression on her face.

They drove, convinced that the daylight made them immune to the police and the DUI's. They took key bumps and smoked cigarettes in a parking lot somewhere.

It was time for sleep.

Punch Drunk # 4

The bar is a raucous and hearty establishment, one’s senses constantly permeated with the clink of the glass, the mirthful shouts of recent cubicle escapees and the general spectacle that overimbibing inevitably brings.

- "Social Studies" -Punch Drunk #4, Style Weekly

The fourth edition of my bi-weekly column, Punch Drunk, came out today in Style. Go read it here.