Social Drinking Excellence: Franck Lebrun

Sometimes the stories, well...sometimes they just write themselves.

From CNN.com:

During the flight, the crew suspected that someone had been smoking cigarettes in one of the lavatories. Other passengers said it was Lebrun, so the crew confronted him once, and then a second time when he again headed for the bathroom. Lebrun looked intoxicated and smelled of cigarettes and alcohol, according to the complaint.

He then approached a flight attendant "in an aggressive manner" and pushed her away, according to the complaint. When she told him not to touch her, Lebrun pushed her away again, court papers say.

After more tense moments, a federal air marshal identified himself to Lebrun and told him to return to his seat.

As Lebrun walked toward the back of the plane "he continued to shout and waive [sic] his arms in an excited manner," according to the complaint.

Two other air marshals identified themselves to Lebrun and asked him to show his passport.

Lebrun continued to scream and yell expletives and then "aggressively positioned himself toward one of the federal air marshals in a fighting stance," court papers say. The marshals then handcuffed him and seated him in the back of the plane.

"Lebrun continued to verbally abuse individuals around him, yelling in substance 'I'm French, f*** you!'" according to the complaint.

Where do I begin? Rude, drunk, arrogant, chain-smoking—Lebrun is so stereotypically French that I can practically smell the B.O. I wish they'd included his mugshot in the article, because without one I can't help but picture him as Jean Reno.

Air travel can test your patience, even when you're just taking a quick Atlanta-to-Savannah connecting flight. A trans-Atlantic flight? The airline should give you free booze and a happy ending just to endure 7+ hours in the sky. All of which excuses Lebrun for his attempt to be the first person since the shoe bomber to smoke on an airplane. But once he's been caught and warned, that's where drunken stupidity takes over. You're locked in an aluminum tube in the sky with the same 500 people—the flight attendants aren't exactly going to forget your face. Then, after three different air marshals have identified themselves and joined the fray, Lebrun actually squares up with them? I know a US Air Marshal; trust me, these are not the guys you want to fight. And a 1-on-3 rumble with them is just suicidal for anyone short of a Special Ops commando. [You have to love the stereotypical Frenchness continuing: Lebrun takes his "fighting stance" and is immediately subdued without an actual fight. I'd almost swear this was written by the folks at Funny or Die.]

So how did Reno Lebrun get so mind-erasingly hammered to suddenly think he was the French Jason Bourne?

After Lebrun was detained, the crew found a one-liter bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream liquor in his carry-on bag that was almost empty, according to the complaint.

He was drunk off of Bailey's Irish Cream? Are you serious? Lebrun's just gone from Léon to Pepe Le Pew. I rarely advise sobriety, but... If you can't handle Bailey's, then you might want to stick to Evian.

Franck, your Rummy's in the mail. It comes with a secret compartment filled with Zima, if you want to try something a little more manly next time.

Seeing's Believing

Fellas, the next time your morning after includes a surprise visitor—the kind that puts the "shame" in "walk of shame"—and your boys start preparing their Last Comic Standing auditions, remind them that you're the victim in this tragedy.

From Delish:

The study, which was published in the journal Alcohol (yes, it's real and academic), was conducted by scientists from Rochampton University in England. The study questioned why heavy alcohol consumption increased levels of attraction in people. The scientists theorized that this could be due to impaired perception of bilateral asymmetry in faces.

...As they expected, the scientists found that the inebriated students were unable to detect symmetry as well as the sober students. The drunk young Brits did not consistently prefer the symmetrical faces to the asymmetrical faces, unlike the sober ones. The unexpected finding was that men made fewer mistakes than women when determining facial symmetry - even when under the influence of alcohol.

So, while we guys have been conditioned to be ashamed of ourselves for letting the multiple rounds of Jager Bombs lower our standards, it's been the girls who've been using us for cheap and shameful mattress aerobics.

*curls into a ball in the shower, sobbing* "It's not my fault. It's not my fault. It's not my fault..."

Researchers say the study gives evidence that lowered inhibitions aren't the only cause behind beer goggles. Our ability to perceive instinctual visual cues of attraction is compromised, and this misleads the sloshed brain to see attraction where the sober brain doesn't.

Which sounds to me like...the classical definition of beer goggles. Exactly how much time and money did they waste on this research? This sounds like a big excuse to get a bunch of strangers drunk and horny. A few of those test subjects may be sobbing in their showers, too.

Don't worry guys. It's not your fault.

Social Drinking Excellence: Chris Heuring

Those pregnancy cravings are no joke. And forget the days of a husband being sent to a store in the middle of the night for pickles and ice cream—that's old school. Nowadays they get sent straight to the Mickey D's drive-thru, even when they're hammered.

From the Southeast Missourian:

Scott County Sheriff Rick Walter said his department received a call at about 11:40 p.m. Saturday regarding a man with a shotgun at the drive-through window of the McDonald's restaurant on Highway 77 at the Interstate 55 interchange at Benton.

"They had told him the store was closed," Walter said. "He demanded one of the employees to open the window."

The employee reportedly responded by advising only the manager could open the window.

"He told the employee he wanted food and pointed the shotgun at that time," Walter said. "He said, 'If I don't bring some food home for my wife, she's going to kill me.'

It almost feels unfair to give this Rummy Award to Mr. Heuring without hearing his wife's side of the story. Did she really send him there for an Extra Value Meal, under the threat of life and limb? And, if so, was the shotgun her idea? Or was it just the extreme to which a desperate and terrified man will go?

Oh sure, you might say, "D.E.F.I., don't be silly. Even if Heuring's wife DID order him to go all 'Fun with Dick and Jane' on the local Mickey D's, she'd never confess to it." Not true, I say. This is the South, remember. She could give an interview on the steps to her trailer, 8 months pregnant and spitting tobacco between mispronounced sentences, shouting, "Yur damn raht ahs tol'em to do it! Dat goodfernuthin summabitch needa post bail ahriddy sos he cin make a Pahpeyz run! What, ahre me & da babay suhposa do, live on just frahd Twinkees?!?"

[Crooked Straight is not responsible for the offensiveness of D.E.F.I.'s terrible and stereotypical print impression of a Southern accent...But you know any woman married to this guy HAS to talk like that.]

Either he's a drunken idiot blaming his pregnant wife for his decision to use the threat of deadly force to score some McNuggets, or he's put his seed in a woman willing to risk his freedom and safety in return for her McRib sandwich [okay, that's just hypocritical of me—who among us hasn't been similarly tempted by a McRib?]. In either case, Chris, you've earned this Rummy. Take a long hard look at it the next time you're in the mood for a late-night snack. ...Or procreation.

Four Loko Saves the World

As On the Rocks has methodically investigated Four Loko—a.k.a. the Drink That Will Live in Infamy—we have learned first of its dangers, and then later of its culinary merits. Now it seems there is yet another facet to the wonder lurking in these camouflaged 24 oz. cans.

From The Huffington Post:

RICHMOND, Va. — Truckloads of Four Loko and other alcohol-laced energy drinks are being recycled into ethanol and other products after federal authorities told manufacturers the beverages were dangerous and caused users to become "wide-awake drunk."

Wholesalers from Virginia, North Carolina, Maryland and other East Coast states started sending cases of the high-alcohol, caffeinated malt beverages to MXI Environmental Services in Virginia after the U.S. Food and Drug Administration announced a crackdown on the sale of such beverages in November.

...MXI distills the alcohol from the drinks, then sells the fuel to be blended into gasoline, Potter said. It sells the aluminum cans to a recycler. Potter estimated it takes "30 days until it's back on the shelf as another beer can." It also recycles the drinks' water, cardboard packaging and shipping pallets.

"These are actually things that could go directly into a landfill or incinerator or some other waste process that's not as environmentally friendly, so I think it's a good thing," he said.

Sometime soon your car, powered by Four Loko, could take you to a store to buy a case of beer cans made from recycled Loko cans; the pizza you buy while blacked out at 3 a.m. could be sold in a box made of cardboard recycled from Loko cases; and bottles of water you chug the next day could also be recycled from Loko. Now that's a harmony of existence.

I tangled with the Loko again on New Year's Eve, and I can attest to its effectiveness as an energy source. It fueled me through five or six hours of madness before I crashed into a brick wall disguised as Shannon's couch. And here I was thinking I'd been reckless with my intoxicated antics that night; turns out I was actually being environmentally-responsible.

Wifey Material: Angela Yee

Angela Yee, I think I love you. From her Twitter feed:

"You ever be at work and you just need a drink? #morebelve"

Viva Bill Murray!

This is a bit of an interesting turn on the old "be kind to strangers" fable.

New York City bargoer Mike Impollonia and his friends were kicking it at a karaoke bar one recent night, doing their thing. And then they spotted the one and only Bill Murray. They made some smalltalk with him, and graciously invited the legendary actor and his female companions to join them in their room of the bar. Mike and his buddies didn't really expect Murray to take them up on the offer, though. I mean, he's a famous guy out on the town with two chicks. Why would he hang with some young guys he doesn't even know?

Well...because Bill Murray's a bad mother-shut-your-mouth, that's why. From The Chive:

"About 15 minutes later we get a knock on the door... IT'S BILL F@#KING MURRAY! We were all shocked of course but at that point we were already pretty trashed so the party just kept going. He was super nice and they all fit right in. His girl was really cute, and as far as i remember, from Amsterdam. She sang a bunch of random French songs!

At some point he bought us all a round of some weird green drink and wouldn't tell us what it was. I later found out it was Chartreuse some French liqueur made by monks. Apparently you are supposed to sip it ... like an idiot I just shot it down.

The high point was when Bill and I sang a duet of an Elvis song called, "Marie's the Name." Random I know, but so was the night. We were all drinking and dancing and screaming our asses off.

We tried not to make him feel uncomfortable though of course later we all joked about picking the Ghostbusters theme. Amazingly, they stuck around the entire night, about 4 hours. As you can imagine it was all pretty surreal. Something I will never ever forget…Viva Bill Murray!"

Along with this tale at The Chive are several pictures of Mike, his peoples, Bill, and his French-speaking lady friend kicking it NY karaoke style. Sounds like a sick night. I typically hate karaoke, but I think I'd look past that to be able to say I drank all night with Bill Murray.

Smooth Off

I consider it a major failing of my life that I'm not hanging with Diddy and Aziz on the regular. Maybe then I could be this smooth. Or at least have a bangin Italian chick on my arm.