and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

As you might have noticed by reading this here website, my drinking tastes have only gotten more sophisticated over the three years I have been out of college so when the idea of edward forty hands came up, I of course thought it was a brilliant idea. Edward forty hands, for those who do not know, is a simple game wherein you strap a 40oz. bottle of beer to each hand using duct tape (preferrably malt liquor, if you've got the cahunas). You then must drink all of these two fortys before you are allowed to remove the bottles. This obviously limits your ability to do normal every-day drinking tasks such as urinating and eating doritios, or, even answering the phone.

The good part about the game, however, is that you get right smashed and for some reason - don't ask me why - it just seems like a late-afternoon sort of game, you know - when it's light out.. So by the time you've drank 80 ounces of alcohol it's barely dark out, you're seeing sideways, and you've got nowhere to go but up.. or down.. or, well, however you want to look at it I guess.

But what it does do is force the importance of time on you like a freight train. The more you sit around and chat and waste time, the more your bladder will hate you come 1 hour in when you still got a full forty to go. It's like the ultimate space-time-dimensional equalizer. Never before has a few hours seemed sooo long. Of course, since it is quite a journey, this edward forty hands, when you're finally done you do feel pretty chipper about your accomplishment. In fact, I dare say you're happy and maybe even bubbly.

And any drinking game that can make me happy and bubbly, well, it's like I'm a champagne bottle on super bowl sunday.