Thursday, March 7, 2013

The Night Belongs to Michelob and the 1980s

Lately, I find my addled mind drifting to memories of those “The Night Belongs to Michelob” commercials. The mid 1980s. The powerful formative pull of hotties in MTV Duran Duran lighting.

With enormous, puffy, hairsprayed hair. And way too much lip gloss.

The unattainable 80s Hottie.

I’m talking distilled period piece John Landis “Into the Night” Michelle Pfeiffer rouge-cheeked porcelain hottness mixed up in a Don Johnson Tony Scott blender.

Sax solos.

Lip gloss.

Legs.

Blue filters.

Sports coats.

This was Madison Avenue crack juice pumped into my pre-teen fever dreams. Intoxicating promise future-shock.

mqdefaultUntold adventures awaited. The real adulthood that the parents at the PTA meetings never told you about. Sexual and otherwise. A shimmering, glittering nightlife that wasn’t in no childrens books. A naughty truth that had been banned from the collective memory of suburbia.

Alls I know was that it certainly didn’t exist in Brookline, Massachusetts. But maybe, possibly, it awaited in the real big city. Once I could get the hell out of the suburban rot and dead streets of existential nothingness. As soon as I turned eighteen, I was out.

The “Night” belongs to sexy unattainable women. Suddenly attainable. If only I drank the right beer.

I would buy that beer.

I would buy any beer I had to to touch hairspray hair and high rouge cheeks.

So long as that world wasn’t the cruel coldness of high school girls and high school parties and the angst-ridden John-Hughesian miseries of teenage wasteland.

It may just have been a shimmering music video dream meant to con and dupe the rubes with promise of the unattainable. Finally gonna face it. Addicted to love.

But promise of the unattainable also inspires poetry and dreaming that can move mountains and motivate the core.

And so it did for one little white suburban punk.

Play me out, Eric.

# posted by douchebag1
8:21 am March, 7 DoucheyWallnuts said...

In addition to all a that stuff DB1 says about the 80s, there was Blow. Tons of Blow. And not Kurtis Blow. The white, powdery Blow.

8:32 am March, 7 DoucheyWallnuts said...

I like this Michelob commercial better wit the Chairman doin what he does best.

.

http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=w171F7tND0o&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dw171F7tND0o

9:04 am March, 7 Et Tu Douche? said...

Ahh the 80’s, Jan Hammer synthesizer banality, the rise of infomercials featuring thigh masters and Suzanne Sommers. films of moral decay and LA decadence such as “Less Then Zero”. MTV inspired and yet warped the senses of what one should be, look like and aspire to. Yet there was some good too, such as the ultimate in unattainable and still as renoBerific as ever. I still get misty eye and by misty eye I mean wood whenever I hear The Cars “Moving in Stereo”

http://xquizitblizz.tumblr.com/post/31933907284

9:20 am March, 7 Vin Douchal said...

Yeah, when I think of the hardscrabble suburbs of Boston I think Brookline, MA. Those incredibly high property values, the top percentile high school graduation rates, the sports rivalries with ever beatable WASP-y neighbor, Newton.

.

Although the drunken thugs from Brighton probably made an occassional foray into Db1’s area looking for targets to pound with short lengths of pipe and non-Irish to berate , Brookline is a great place to be from.

.

Ask them fucks in Roxbury if they’d trade their childhood with yours….. Just keepin’ it real

.

.

Charlie

9:27 am March, 7 Vin Douchal said...

RE: 80’s

.

Whomever is responsible for inventing electronic drums needs to be publicly drawn and quartered…

.

.

Marshall stacks and home made bass cabs with piggy back guitar solo…nice

9:33 am March, 7 Et Tu Douche? said...

@VinD

Not to pick on the Boss, but you nailed it right on the head.

10:30 am March, 7 The Reverend Chad Kroeger said...

DB1 was a young Jew lad in the 80’s. I’ll tell ya’s about the 80’s. They were fucking awesome! I was 15-25 in the 80’s running the means streets of Cornwall (fucking dump, I love it, look it up) and going to school 60 miles away in Ottawa with all the French sluts and girls I didn’t fuck in high school. It was a dreamworld. You’ve seen all the movies about crazy drunken proms and afterparties. I was there drinking Jack and snorting $50/gram clean blow. The bars and chicks were just like the ones DB1’s carbohydrate-fueled mind portrays above. Mrs. Kroeger was the unattainable short-haired puffy hairs-prayed baby-blue and pink wearing hott.

I used to drive around stoned in my RX-7 (FUCK YOU ROTARY ENGINES) on campus in a Miami Vice coat attending Economics Society meetings, giving praise to the demi-god that was incarnate in Ronald Reagans brilliant trickle-down world. Duran-Duran and Journey video hots everywhere. It was a Pat Benetar, Cars, Van Halen world man. I worked for the car and douche clothes by the way.

Like Et Tu I hear the Cars and remember drinking breakfast for Friday morning gym class listening to Moving In Stereo, rolling a blunt to smoke while I skateboarded downhill to high-school my Dogtown shirt. Doing the rings stoned was awesome but the pommel-horse impressed the chicks. I want the 80’s back man. Fucking enemy TIME (no respect) fucking me around. Pain and cracking bones only satisfied by multiple toxins and sleep. Sleep plagued with images of a better time. Time with no kids. Times with no cares. Time of silly white sportcoats and coke-spoons. Time to be Sonny Crockett for a fleeting moment in the empty universe ticking slowly away at my immortality and blowing the Mazda’s engine time and time again in my minds subconscious retelling of the decade that was in my mind glorious and fully-lived. Then waking to my life. Creeping into history as the glory days fade and Death follows in my shadow waiting to take me at any time. 36 out of the 37 girls I banged in the 80’s weren’t with me to watch the fall of the Berlin Wall. Stuck as I fade into the memory orb at the edges of the universe with one woman, a few girls, a place in the country waiting for the end and a dog with liver failure. Quit killing everybody God. And yes Douchey, Bourdain used to band all the Mulatto hookers in St. Eustache. I’m going to Montreal for the weekend and now as I have become totally depressed hope to die choking on foie-gras and horse tongue. Fuck you 80’s for poisoning my mind with intangible somnolent visions of my glorious youth. And I agree with the above statements. I need a blow job from a teenager with short, puffy hair and a nap, Son.

.

Fuck you “Godley and Creme”.

.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8eBLveddSfM

11:11 am March, 7 DoucheyWallnuts said...

The Rev’s post should be on a plaque somewheres, preferably not in my arteries.

11:14 am March, 7 DoucheyWallnuts said...

Godley and Creme were also in 10cc, a band named after the amount of ejaculate ejaculated with each ejaculation. Alliteration, I says.

11:24 am March, 7 DoucheyWallnuts said...

Speaking of the 80s and Blow and Miami Vice and the music, check out this music video turd from one of the all-time over-rated musical solo careers in the history of music since Sonny and Cher split….

.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4ueaD22hg8

11:33 am March, 7 DoucheyWallnuts said...

Speaking of Canada and Hockey loving Canucks, here is a video that is sure to give the Rev a Canadian Bacon sized renoB and cause him to hoist a few Lablatt’s Blues in respect (respect).

.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=-_qj_Q6A3y4#!

11:40 am March, 7 DoucheyWallnuts said...

What are all a youse workin’ today? Where is all a ya?

11:57 am March, 7 DarkSock said...

The 80’s were also the end of the Bush era.
.
And I ain’t talkin’ about George Jr. & Sr.
McMuffin'
.
McMuffin’s

1:31 pm March, 7 The Reverend Chad Kroeger said...

@Douchey W.

.

Canada thanks you for the shout out to Stompin’ Tom (BBHN) and may he rest in whatever. God is knocking us down like a pimp on Angel Dust (respect). Here’s some big haired ex-ex quasi-Canadian hotness. I’d still do Cameron Crowe’s wife. And I might when I meet her in a few weeks.

.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41P8UxneDJE

1:32 pm March, 7 The Reverend Chad Kroeger said...

Dark Sock is into Large Labia.

2:08 pm March, 7 DoucheyWallnuts said...

That Heart song is quintessential 80s. With a Q, I says. You can see the coke residue on the lens of the camera. The blonde Wilson chick is still hittable, and she looks more like an aging porn star than rock star. But I digress, the black haired Wilson sister killed my Rager to the point where I may not get another one for several days. Digress, I says.

4:15 pm March, 7 Douche Wayne said...

Holy nostalgia, Batman! Back when Manhattan was dangerous and envelope filters were everywhere.

4:46 pm March, 7 creature said...

vin, i been to Massachusetts once & had to stay for 2 1/2 mos. commuting from Boston to Lowell, & i’ll tell yuz, ‘I’ll Never Return’!

.

massholes

7:29 pm March, 7 DarkSock said...

I’m starting an 80’s tribute band called ManTurd.

.

Discuss.

8:06 pm March, 7 Et Tu Douche? said...

@DSock,

Make sure you have a sax player in your band, someone like Timmy Cappello as seen here.

http://sherhaps.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/tim-capello.jpg

.

And here @31 second mark, you’re guaranteed to get some groupie trim if you can find someone of his ilk.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGXrnGmg1IA

8:17 pm March, 7 creature said...

the late El Duce of The Mentors woulda been a natural

.

heathens

8:18 pm March, 7 creature said...

…you’ll hafta cover ‘ShitMan’ by Green Jelly

8:59 pm March, 7 Troy Tempest said...

FUCK quiet riot. Slade wrote it and rocked it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RabCRjOL7nw

9:23 pm March, 7 Troy Tempest said...

I spent the 1980s in Washington DC. It basically sucked hairy monkey balls. The first four years I was married to a chihuahua in a people suit. When they’re young they’re cute. But when they get older they figure out they’re chihuahuas and they get mean.

.

She was a real spinner, though.

.

Got divorced, had a major breakdown, ended up as a resident in a monastery. Had a series of really lousy relationships. There was the librarian. SMOKING HOTT. Fucked like a dream come true. One of my greatest and deepest loves. I represented a real future, which she wasn’t interested in, because DC SUCKS HAIRY MONKEY BALLS and she wanted out.

.

Then there was the former homecoming queen School teacher who had lovely large tracts of land and a sweet face and a wonderful laugh, a funny and goofy personality and had no time for me or my friends or my interests or anything else I found interesting. That went on for 3 long years.

.

Then there was Aquamarina. She posted here many years ago. She was a sweet as pie hippie chick. We didn’t work out, but we’re still friends. For those of you who remember her, she had a serious blood infection a few years ago. She nearly died. She is fully recovered and for a hippie chick pushing 60, she looks fantastic. Still has thick wavy hair down to the middle of her back.

.

After Aqua, Aquamarina, there was the crazy art girl. She was mentally unbalanced, and FUCKIGN GORGEOUS. But seriously crazy, as in a quart low on the serotonin. That didn’t work out too well.

.

In 1990, I got laid off, mugged and hospitalised, and vowed to leave DC. No GF, a crappy apartment, no job? I’m OUTA HERE. I moved to SF and my life improved. A lot. Instantly.

.

DC Sucks Hairy Monkey Balls, and the 1980s were a complete fucking disaster that destroyed the United States. Just as the economic crisis of the third century destroyed Rome, the 1980s destroyed the USA. It’s that happy faced fascist bullshit that started then that has resulted in highway citizenship checkpoints.

http://boingboing.net/2013/03/06/politely-refusing-to-talk-to-d.html

.

Losers. I hated the 1980s. For me they sucked really badly, and I think they were the worst possible direction to go in, politically (Reagan’s happy faced fascism, the genocide in Central America, etc.) artistically (postmodernism, UGH!), musically (too many horrors to count), and culturally (the world turned into ignorant poo)

.

fuck the 80s. fuck DC. fuck all that shit.

10:59 pm March, 7 creature said...

trouble funk, dc ’82

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8y5ZnmGTGRA&playnext=1&list=PL13FF6845D47F6B18&feature=results_main

bad brains

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wIH1lC5HDc

& minor threat

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D6to2A4kbJs

…it wasn’t all monkey sack, troy, y’all just had to hook up with ian mac kaye & tha bruthas

11:52 pm March, 7 creature said...

…btw, thanks for the polite resistance clip

12:48 am March, 8 The Dude said...

Turdfish and the Hooters was the first name of my high school band.

12:49 am March, 8 The Dude said...

Hooters and Blow was the second name of my high school band.

12:52 am March, 8 The Dude said...

Hooturd and the Blowies never really worked with our song set.

7:42 am March, 8 Douche Wayne said...

If he doesn’t have one already, Troy Tempest needs to be given a regular editorial up in here.

11:15 am March, 8 Douchble Helix said...

I could go for one of those Furtive Glances at the end of the commercial.

.

I can do without the A-Ha haircuts, though.

Leave a Reply

What is 3 + 5 ?
Please leave these two fields as-is:
IMPORTANT! To be able to proceed, you need to solve the following simple math (so we know that you are a human) :-)