Injury Induced, White Wine Produced

So my back hurts. Which means I’m not running. Which means I’m bored out of my mind. Which means I found a random, online writing prompt generator, poured myself a glass of vino blanc from a box and got down to business.

Here is the link to the prompt generator, in case you are also injured and bored.

My challenge was to write 150 word comedy about an Art Director in the desert and incorporate a leash and the line “Do not leave me.”

Enter Byron and his camel companion….

    “Well, at least there aren’t snakes,” he thought grimly. Everything went wrong up to this point, but no Indiana Jones snake pit meant things could be always be worse. Not much worse though. His bare thighs were chafed from walking and his sore feet kicked sand up at the back of his legs, making it feel like little bugs from hell were lunching on his impossibly sunburned calfs. His $200 white t-shirt clung to his sweaty chest, a browned and aromatic catastrophe, while his khaki linen pants were turbaned on top of his bald head. He hadn’t thought to bring a hat.

    Byron trudged on, tugging a camel by the leash in one hand and carrying the amulet in the other. He had recovered King Nebukah’s lost amulet and it only cost him: 4 days of hiking through the desert, a run in with a cactus, a standoff with grave robbers where he kept his life, but lost all his gear and this god awful sunburn on his head. After everything he went through, he’d give the thing up gladly for a cucumber mask and a vodka gimlet. “Fuck this stupid amulet and fuck this sand and fuck me for wearing pants without pockets.”

    Parched, exhausted and mentally plowed, he stopped suddenly and sat down hard in the sand. He let himself have a momentary tantrum; pounding and kicking the sand and screaming. In his moment of weakness he threw the amulet in anger, immediately regretting his decision. He had been working out a lot lately and was a baton twirler in college. That thing went far.

    Byron collected himself, let go of the Camel’s leash, looked the beast straight in the eye, pointed at him and said, “Do not leave me.” He stumbled off in the general direction of the priceless artifact.

Who else is up for the challenge? Write your own version or generate your own challenging prompt and post in the comments!

Am I a Runner or Have I Just Been Drinking too Much?


20170208_070024Lately, I’ve been exhibiting some strange behavior and experiencing fleeting moments of disorientation that have me begging the question:

Am I a Runner or Have I Just Been Drinking too Much?

You’re probably thinking, “Well damn it Stack, if you can’t tell the difference, you must be drunk. And therefore, you have been drinking too much. The answer is obvious.”

If only it were that simple…

The indications of either state overlap in such a way that if I plugged them into the all-knowing WebMD symptom checker, both would come up as possible conditions, along with IBS, menopause and quite probably a lazy eye.


  • Physically I feel a little beat up, yet oddly invincible… Like a unicorn that got in a fight with a grizzly bear and won because magic rainbows.
  • I’ve been regularly confusing the time of day on digital clocks for my current pace, even though I’m not running.
  • Every outfit I wear suddenly needs to be a clothes/purse hybrid. I’ve become obsessed with pockets and their ability to store reserves comfortably and all ninjaishlike.
  • I ate an entire bag of chips in a single sitting without even noticing.
  • #somanydisgustingselfiesessions #myhashtagshave#s
  • I have plans almost every weekend. Definitely count me out for anything on Saturday mornings. And I usually end up needing to recover until late afternoon.
  • I’ve become impervious to the elements and as impermeable as your grandfather’s black rubber galoshes.  I’m outside in the rain, snow, single digits… in shorts in Jan/Feb… in the dark with the creatures of the night…
  • I’ve been using the phrase “recovery run” as if it makes sense.
  • I get super dehydrated and then commence a long & bladder-aching quest for hydration in a cyclical pattern.
  • And I’ve been extremely pale since birth. When in doubt, add it to the list, ya know?


(I mean c’mon. I look like a citizen of Pleasantville.)

So you see then. It’s impossible to say for sure what’s going on with me and the wildly contradictory evidence of purple teeth and thighs “like what, what, what” isn’t helping bring the truth to light.

So I will do what any other self-respecting, runcorked maniac would do in this situation. Pour myself a glass of wine, plan my route for tomorrow’s long run and thank god I’m not a basic bitch.

Welcome to the weekend,


Flashy Lights

You’ve probably seen my picture plastered all over the world wide web as of late. It seems like every race I run, there are paparazzi hanging out on the sidelines trying to take pictures of me and then those pictures somehow end up on the internet… like facebook & IG & stuff (who put those there?!). I’ve even seen my face grace the NYRR website twice already this year! (And only like 15 pictures deep in a photo album full of randos)

Okay, so maybe I’m not “famous” in the technical sense, but as the face of Runcorked I’ve put a great deal of effort into honing my ability to rock the race photo and I’m proud of just how far I’ve come. Witness the evolution:

Exhibit A – 1st Race photos: NY Mini 10K June 11, 2016 – Not. Attractive. Period.


Exhibit B – Recent Photo: Fred Lebow Manhattan Half Jan 22, 2017 – Merica!


I’ve learned a thing or two over the last year and I’d like to take this opportunity to share my findings with others who struggle to make it look easy (because we all know it’s not easy at all and we often feel like stopping to walk, barf, cry or D. all of the above).

Rule #1: I-Spy that Sneaky Muverfarking Camera Guy

See them before they see you. That’s your only chance. Don’t plan on holding it together the entire race. That’s unreasonable. You’re bopping along all smiley and cute… get a little complacent… fatigue starts setting in… and then SNAPSKI! Another race photo wasted on tired eyes, an unkindly grimace and sagging, lifeless jowls. Stay alert and keep on the lookout for inconspicuous people with cameras crouching in the bushes. Keep those eyes moving high and low, back and forth across sidelines like you’re watching a tennis match. AND when in doubt assume anyone with a camera is official. Worst case scenario, you end up with a quality photobomb.

Rule #2: Go In With A Belichick-Worthy Game Plan

Plan your pose ahead of time & get a second opinion if it’s something new. Otherwise you might end up throwing a sad, awkward wave and left hand jab that just leaves you filled with regret…

awkward wave.jpg

Repeat after me, “I will never get myself into a situation where I do not know what to do with my hands.”


Yes, I’ve throw the 2 thumbs up. Judge me. I was holding mittens. And this picture leads us right into the next rule…

Rule #3: Dress to Impress

If you’re like me and can’t figure out how to drink water out of cups while running, wear clothes that hide the evidence of your shortcomings. In the above picture, you can see that I literally threw the entire cup at my face and probably got about a half of an ounce in my actual mouth.

Similarly, beware of extended arm poses in the winter…


Or did I just try to carry my water cup under my arm because my hands were filled with mittens? Sigh.

Anyways, rep your team, wear a banana suit or write all over your naked body in black magic marker. Whatever tickles your balls. Just know that the rest of us will think you are completely nuts (in a we accept you regardless, “you-go-girl” kind of way of course).

Rule #4 Diversify your Investments

Unless you’ve got Blue Steel in back pocket, maintain an arsenal of poses for each camera encounter. Don’t put all your eggs in same damn omelet. Mix it up and see what works froyo-style. My toppings of choice? The Hallelujah Jazz Hands or the Classic Double Deuces just to name a couple.

Rule #5: Whatever man. Screw rules. Stop trying so hard, smile and just do you. Sometimes the worst pictures end up being your favorites for the very hilarity they bring to the table. And you should know that even your worst running pictures still show you looking badass and sexy as hell.

I’m sure you’re sick of looking at pictures of me by now (pffffff impossible, Stack!). So, I challenge you to comment with your “worst” and “best” ever race photos below. I swear it’s as liberating as trading jeans for yoga pants, quitting your job and discovering DIY projects on Pinterest.


PS. Go Patriots.

I see you, Booby-Traps!

Let’s talk BOOBY-TRAPS. And no, this blog isn’t about sports bras. It’s about outsmarting your self-destructive, inner Kevin McAllister. It’s about making sure you don’t get caught with your pants down in the middle of your racing season. It’s about not ending up stuck in the metaphorical briar patch of injury or defeat.

As an avid Home Alone fan, I’m going to going to break it down like this: When setting a race/life goal, you’re like the Wet Bandits calling out to little Macaulay Caulkin upon entering his house. Not only are you going public with your big, scary goals, you’re also inherently opening yourself up to a swinging paint can to the balls. The traps have been set! And they’re inspired by your natural fears & reckless tendencies (we all have them).

Examples of self-laid booby traps:

  • Bart bought $100 bottle of wine to whip out during a special occasion like a baller. 10 years later, the wine went bad because Bart was too scared to waste $100 bottle on the wrong moment.
  • Sally was training for a marathon and getting ready for her 20 mile long run. She was sore from dancing all night in boots with the fur and her gut told her not to do the run on 2 hours of sleep and a belly full of Jaeger Bombs, but she didn’t want to veer off track from her plan. Sally ended the run with a pulled hammy, the smudge of a hand stamp on her face and just one more regret to add to the list.

We can all learn a lesson from Bart & Sally’s poor execution. They booby-trapped the shit out of themselves. I too have booby-trapped myself in the past and learning to avoid those pitfalls has been the key to finally reaching the finish line on some of my goals. You have to be aware of the potential booby-traps and think one step ahead at all time.

Tips for avoiding Booby-Traps during training:

  • Keep a detailed journal – What you ate for meals, miles, pace, time of day, how you fueled, which shoes you wore, how you felt mentally and physically, potential hurdles, life events and how your dog’s pepperoni fart woke you from a deep sleep in the middle of the night.
  • Rule of 20% (or less) – Using your detailed notes in your journal, track your mileage  & intensity and plan ahead to make sure that you never increase more than 20% at a time. If you’re more delicate than a grandmother’s doily, don’t even attempt 20%. Force yourself to take baby steps by looking at the numbers closer and holding yourself accountable by writing everything down.
  • Don’t increase intensity and distance at the same time if you can help it – Don’t Hussein Bolt your way out of the house on a 15 miles hilly route if you’ve only just run your first 5k. Use your brains here.
  • Don’t be too extreme – Don’t hold yourself to ridiculous standards, like no wine for a month. Or worse, no days off to rest. Your body needs rest, your body needs sleep and your body needs food (and yes, carbs!!) as much as it needs miles and speed training in order to reach your goal on race day. Run & Recover are like the Ying Yang twins, WHAAAAT!
  • Be flexible – Don’t give up after one unscheduled day off. Don’t refuse to move your schedule around when life or mimosas happen. Run by feel sometimes or skip a run if you’re not feeling it at all. Everyone is different and your body knows best what it needs.
  • Pre-hab & condition – Feeling sore? Stretch some more! Run down or beat? Ice & heat! Pain surprise? Foam roll your thighs!

Stack-miagi says, “To become a booby-trap master thwarter, you must first think like a booby-trapist and then booby-trap the booby-trapist with preventative booby-traps of your own booby-track making. “

Hey, Big $pendah

What surprised me when I took up running about a year ago was just how much $$$ started sneaking out of my bank account each month like a teenage girl out of her bedroom window (silently and frequently involving alcohol – because wine and shopping are a dangerous combo). Running is not a cheap sport. Sure, you may start off with just a ratty pair of kicks, a sports bra, a helmet and a dream. But once you’re hooked, you’ll find you want… no NEED… race entry fees, shoes, gear, fuel, a fancy watch, physical therapy, cross training, memberships, literature, and travel. And then, like wine, the more things you try and the greater your collection grows, the more appreciation you have for quality (enter Oiselle, LuLu Lemon and all the other drool-worthy running apparel). Soon, keeping your budget in check is like trying to keep 10 cats in a cardboard box without Benadryl, rubber gloves, duct tape and a team of tennis champions.

In my opinion, there is no shame in heavy spending on sports. The mental and physical benefits are well worth the costs associated, there are much worse things to spend money on and you should reward yourself for putting in the hard work everyday. However, if you’re like me, there are other considerations that (gasp!) limit spending in this department. This chafes me worse than forgotten body glide on a long run. Which is why I’ve decided to learn more about $$$ this year and how to make it work for me, so that I can achieve gazillionaire status, retire at 35, get invited to Oprah’s house for dinner and become my own athletic apparel sponsor. I’ll take one of everything in your new spring line, please and thank you.

With my new found desire to learn, I picked up this little book called “Rich Dad, Poor Dad” at the suggestion of my brother. So far it’s great, though I’m only a chapter in. But one piece of advice that really struck a chord was “It’s much easier to change yourself, than anyone else.” While this had me pondering what I could change in my own thoughts and actions to free myself from the shackles of limited dolla dolla bills & the 9-5 grind, it also spurned me to reflect on my recent #destroycreate self overhaul that closed the “gymnaStack” chapter of my life in place of this new one as a “runner.” If I hadn’t gone outside of my comfort zone and given myself the opportunity to succeed… If I hadn’t made the decision to face change head on and without fear… I would still be lost in identity limbo and completely static.

To bring this full circle…

Since taking up running, I have become obsessed with the sport and everything about it, but what I’ve really become flat out addicted to is the personal growth I have experienced as a result. Something about my first year of experience running has made me want to be better at literally everything. Positive change in one aspect of my life has spread like wildfire to many other areas. I read more, I write more, I study, innovate and create. And I want to inspire other to do the same. Yes, I want to learn more about money. But what I already know is that where I am at right now is worth every ounce of work I put in and every penny I spent along the way.

Now go buy yourself something pretty,


The Golden Rule – inspired by #SuperDouche

Running is hard. Yes, it’s physically hard and it’s difficult to find the time, but even more so it’s mentally hard. It takes courage to face the road every day. It take courage to put yourself out there… to envision a better, stronger you and to challenge yourself to new heights. I applaud anyone who runs for this very reason. That’s why we all support each other in this crazy sport of ours.

Writing is also hard… Creating is hard…. Finding your voice is hard… And having the guts to open yourself up to public scrutiny in any way, shape or form is incredibly admirable because it is SO  HARD.

How dare any of us try to stifle creativity or push people back into their quiet boxes. We should inspire and collaborate and promote positive self-images and cheer each other on and celebrate personal/professional/team victories and laugh…

I write this today, in the hopes that even one person will read this and give someone a high five or words of encouragement. Let’s create waves of positive energy.


I received this comment today and was obviously hurt and thought about giving up writing this blog for about 2 seconds… But then, that’s what this person wants. And so instead, I’ll just pour it on and hope that they can find a sense of humor or love or whatever it is they are lacking in life.

Not your average Run – “After reading about your self proclaimed “smokin hot bod,” I was finished reading your blog. I vowed I’d never read it again. Yet here I am, reading your last 5 posts and wondering when anyone started calling you Stack? They don’t. And if they don’t it’s because you have begged them to in order to become someone you’re not. Your posts aren’t funny. They aren’t witty. They aren’t full of any advice worth taking. If anyone should take the advice you spit out, it should be you. Nobody wants to read these long, horribly written, trying to be witty, posts about your running escapades. Not runners, not wanna be runners, probably, not even your mother. Just be yourself Jen. You’re trying WAY too hard.”

Runcorked – “I’m not sure why you felt the need to write this….? If you’re offended by my posts, just be an adult and don’t read them. If you’re truly trying to provide constructive criticism, then save it because you’re so far off base on everything you just said I can only laugh. I’m impressed with myself though for having inspired someone to read my blog and get so worked up over the contents.
I am a silly person and you should know that “smoking hot bod” is meant to be read jokingly. I definitely don’t think that about myself… Perhaps you are incapable of interpreting the subtle nuisances of sarcasm? And “Stack” is in fact, my last name. So people do call me that. But it’s okay… you didn’t know. You know what they say about assuming, right? I suppose I could write how and what you want me to, but I don’t write these blogs for you. I write them for me. I write them for fun and out of the spirit of love for my sport (I say my because I refuse to share it with someone so close-minded and hurtful. The running community is full of supportive, wonderful people and you are not one of them) and wine. Criticize me as you will. It’s the risk you take when you put yourself out there. Maybe you should write your own blog? You’d probably be very impressed by your own work and can spend more time patting yourself on your back and less time trying to breaks others down to build yourself up.

Thanks for providing the content for my next blog post. 🙂


Runfriend Do’s & Don’ts

Runfriend Do’s and Don’ts by someone who’s –by her own definition- is awful to run with, but aspires to be better.

DO these things: 

  1. Be entertaining: Wear a silly hat or tell a funny story. Bring a water bottle full of wine. Hump a lamppost if you have to. Just help people forget that they are tired, sore or chafed and remind them of how much more fun running is than staying home scratching your butt and watching Treehouse Masters like it’s actually a good show (because it’s not).
  2. Be flexible: It’s a group run and your running group is a democracy. If you want to be pace nazi or can’t wait for your ridiculous friend to hump a lamppost, then just run on your own and leave the fun to everyone else who doesn’t have a didgeridoo sized stick up their ass.
  3. Run with your phone: Emergencies happen. There may be times when the group needs you to order pizza, ask Siri how to get home without ubering or google the origin of figgy pudding. Be prepared.
  4. Nail the Selfie: You and your friends are going to want to commemorate your awesome runs with a group selfie upon completion. You won’t want to be the obnoxious one saying, “No, let’s try again… No, let’s take another one… How about from this angle?… Delete! I look like I have 3 chins… Delete! Ok, I def actually have 3 chins in real life… Can we switch sides?… My arm looks fat….” But you also definitely don’t want to have 3 chins and a goofy, disappearing bottom lip grin that makes it look like you belong on the short bus either. So practice on your own. Take 100 post-solo-run selfies and find your best side. Then delete the evidence less you embarrass yourself when showing pictures to someone later. 37552
  5. Help when called upon: Canadian geese fly in a V shape and if one can’t go on for whatever reason and bows out of the flock, the birds flying directly in front and behind go down with it. I’m not saying you have to run in a V shape formation, but if your friend has to stop and squat behind a bush out of desperation, hold their hand. (Sttaaaaackkkkk, ya so sick!) Kidding! Just help them find a good bush and stop and wait for them. Or if they are hurt, call the wahhhhmbulance or the regular old ambulance or their boyfriend or some shit. Word?

DO NOT do these things:

  1. Do not be late or ditch your pals: This one is easy. If you make plans, don’t be a flakey flakerson. If I wake up at 4:30am to meet you and you don’t show up, you get exactly one free pass with #smh, but then….I’m going to throat punch you and everyone you love.
  2. Do not forget to pay the f**k attention: If someone is running next to you and a car comes by, don’t box them out. If you’re the only one who knows the route, don’t leave friends in the dust or get distracted, take a wrong turn and get everyone lost. Don’t forget your head lamp and mooch off someone else’s light. Don’t ask tons of questions that require long answers to someone who is clearly wicked out of breath just because you think it’s funny or you are also out of breath and don’t want to talk. And definitely don’t be like me and do all of the above in the span of 6 miles like I did this morning (shout out to my gracious & patient running pals!).
  3. Don’t be an annoying breather: Your granola-yogi-kiegel-exercise reverse inhalation followed by a strangled-samurai-goosefart exhalation may be working for you… but it’s weird. And gross. And no one wants to hear that or feel your hot breath on their neck for 10 feet, nevermind several miles.
  4. Don’t be a know it all: Different runners need different things and thrive on different plans. Don’t continuously pummel your running friends with a barrage of advice they didn’t ask for and don’t shit all over their dreams. As soon as you do, they’re going to start running faster than you, so that A. they don’t have to listen to you anymore and B. they kick your ass at the next race and shut you up for good.
  5. Don’t forget to vary your route: As in any relationship, things can get stale if you don’t spice it up every now and then. Make it a point not to run by the same cow 3 times a week. Get crazy and run up that hill you always avoid for a change. Party bus it 20 minutes to a new start/end point in a random place you’ve never run before.

In all seriousness though, find good runfriends and cherish them. There is a secret code for this that all runners know and that’s that we take care of our own because we are all the same sort of crazy and love every minute of it. I may not know you yet, you secret blog following super fan of mine… but I know you’re reading this and I got your back bro.

Run, wine, clinkity-clink & ahhhhdrinkity-drink,


Oh, the Places You’ll Run…


One of the biggest draws to running for me is the opportunity/excuse to travel and see new sights. Training for a destination race is the best way to incentivize yourself to stay motivated and working hard at the gym and on the road every day. It is also a great way to justify vacations and convince people at work that you have earned time off.


  1. Doug works with Betty. Doug makes more money than Betty because his Dad owns the company. Doug is a rude slob and his breath smells like dog shit. Doug goes on the same 2 week cruise every year and leaves all of his work in Betty’s lap. Doug is an asshole.
  2. Betty runs before work every morning. Betty is training to run the Berlin Marathon. The only thing Doug has ever run is the dishwasher and he found that exhausting. Betty will be going to Berlin for 2 weeks for the race. Betty is an inspiration.

Tips when planning a race-cation:

  1. Make sure you have ample time for post-race celebration & relaxation. Unfortunately, most races are on Sundays. Don’t plan on being at work on Monday. The vacation really starts once the race is over. You’ll be pre-occupied, physically & liquidly limited and otherwise lame before you toe the line. Afterwards, you may need ample recovery time before walking/standing becomes enjoyable again. You may also initially suffer from post-race chafe, exhaustion or sobriety and need some time to sit on your ass and drink wine before exploring.
  2. The more the merrier. Race-cations are much more fun with your running friends there to share the race experience, wait in line with you at the porta-potties and potentially wear matching outfits. A fan squad is also a must (just make sure they know that’s why you brought them or they’ll just sleep in instead). And if there’s any justice in this world, there should be witnesses there when you f**king murder the course.
  3. Pack heavy. Bring multiple of everything you need (gu, race meal ingredients, water bottles, outfits, sneakers…) and everything you probably don’t need (blocks of gouda, sunglasses for your hamster, a book of dinosaur species…), just to be on the safe side. I pack bags inside bags inside bags and bottles of wine inside those bags. And most importantly… don’t forget a corkscrew.
  4. Pick a destination that rocks your world – be it the wild west, another planet or a Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Somewhere you’ve always wanted to visit, a completely random adventure or a race near someone who lives somewhere cool, but whose personality is slightly lacking, so you would never go visit them otherwise. Then make sure to research the weather and terrain, so that you can train for it appropriately and pack the right outfit.
  5. Splurge on a good hotel that is close by the start, sounds relatively quite and probably doesn’t cater to hookers like yourself (oooohhhhh!!! Burnnnnn!).  Nobody want to run a race on crap sleep. Check the reviews. Ex of a review you may want to avoid: “I gave this hotel 2 stars out of 5 because I wouldn’t step in the shower barefoot to save my life, I found an old chicken salad sandwich in the couch and the sheets smelled like they’d recently been the victim of severe intestinal distress. If it wasn’t for the nightclub below our room, I would have given it 3 stars. The sandwich was delicious.”


A much as I love a great destination race though, there is something to be said about using running to just get out, see and appreciate the sites in your own back yard or wherever life my take you throughout the year. Running new routes in your area and exploring the world in your immediate vicinity has a special way of slowing down time and making you feel really, truly alive. Some of my favorite places to run are not just beautiful, but have special meaning to me.

We all live near incredible beauty. All of us. Yes, even you West Virginians. Get out and enjoy it however, wherever, whenever & with whom ever you wish and are able.

Tap into your inner cheetah and go maul the zebra of life,



Runcorked Resolutions

I’m sorry to have fallen off the grid for the last couple (few?) weeks, but I have returned and resolve to get back on schedule for the new year.

A lot has happened since I last blogged:

  • I ran the Ted Corbitt 15K.
    • Quick rundown: It was a Saturday race in NYC, and I could NOT find parking. I almost missed the damn thing and had to run to the start. I then walked in on a guy pooping in a porta-potty… and he wasn’t hovering…  he was sitting on the seat and looking comfortable. I almost told him he really should be hovering. And then one mile into the race, some guy in a yellow spandex jumpsuit ripped a world championship fart that sounded like someone playing the trumpet just got kicked in the nut sac. He stonefaced that shit. Never happened.
  • Work got bananas. Not literal bananas. That would have been nice. Instead, we got a lot of holiday treats… Stress & treats are a dangerous combo, but better at least than stress & samurai swords.
  • I convinced my boyfriend to wear matching Christmas onesies to our friends’ party. I also wore said Christmas onesie on not one, but 2 runs – one of which was on Christmas morning with blinking red and white lights, jingly bells on my shoes and buttloads of Christmas cheer. I really recommend Christmas light viewing runs this time of year!
  • I spent an amazing night in NYC with family & friends, I went to a great dinner and had a delicious home cooked meal. I laughed and loved and exchanged gifts and drank wine until there was no more wine to drink. And then I went out and bought more wine and drank that too.
  • I survived the plague & then a day later face-planted on a run (completely sober). I didn’t even know it was possible to hurt your shoulder while running. I think I’ll just not do that again. Running on the pavement is so much more fun that running into.

Besides returning to blogging, my other New Year’s resolutions are:

  • Share less. I hate sharing.
  • Be nicer to people at work. So long as they stop being a bunch of useless window licking mouth breathers.
  • Make sure to eat responsibly sourced food, like hot dogs from America.
  • Floss regularly. My butt or my teeth? I’ll just let that hang there all ambiguous-like.
  • Punch three people with mustaches square in the dick.
  • Beat the system.

See ya next year!

J. Stack

How to make a 💣ass Sangria from scratch.  

Step 1: Have a vision. Peyote might help here, but I recommend just runcorking some exotic concoction. Imagine a perfect harmony of flavors, so delicious that you can’t help but cry at the thought or otherwise explode in joyous ecstasy. Be bold and ambitious. Just not so bold as to incorporate meat and/or cheeses. That’s just gross. Like a peanut butter and ham sandwich.  

Step 2: Gather your ingredients. You will require: Wine, some variety of soda, tasty liquors with complimentary flavors, fresh fruit, a knife, cutting board and the pitcher you shoved way back on the shelf because you hardly ever use it. Be careful when extracting the pitcher, as you may by accident fall into the refrigerator…literally open the door and fall inside. I didn’t even realize that was possible until about 2 minutes ago. 

I will be making a spiced pear white sangria tonight and it will be glorious. 

Step 3: Test the booze to make sure it works. 

If you can’t tell, try it again. If you know immediately that it’s legit, reward yourself with a shot for a job well done. 

Step 4: Wash your gross ass hands & chop the fresh fruit. Then transfer to the pitcher. 
Step 5: With firestorm resolve, open the wine and do not pour yourself a glass. Instead, pour the entire bottle (still not into your glass… keep reading!) over the fruit (into the pitcher, you see!). In case of emergency, pour yourself a side glass from another bottle…

(Mmmmmmm. Butternuttttt on ya face.)

Step 6: Add the soda. Or don’t add the soda. F$#k it. You da boss. You can add it right before serving if you want, so it has some fizz… or you can be lazy and add it now. I choose later this time. So really it’s not step 6 at all, nor is it Stephen 6 like my autocorrect insists. This step sucks.

Step 7: Add the booze to taste. I’ve got some vanilla vodka and Jack fire for this one… but do whatever. Go crazy. A few shots of each should kick it up real nice. 

Step 8: Stop. REFRIGERATE.

Step 9: Soak over night.

Step 10: Add the fizzy pop & serve with a garnish. Cinnamon sticks for this bad boy. Penis straws work well for Bachelorette parties or family functions. 

Stop bringing fruitcake to parties. Stop bringing veggie platters (you’re kidding yourself). Start bringing snazzed up, jazzed up, stacked up, sangria.