(Gary was, to say the least, put off when he learned that, even though the booze was now in pill form, he would still be considered “beer bitch” and would have to wear the hat for the remainder of the drinking game.)

I dare you to tell me this is a bad idea. ”Evgeny Moskalev of Saint Petersburgh Technological University created… a technique that turns alcohol into powder for packaging in pill form.” Oh. Hell. Yes. Leave it to the Russians to find a new way to get hammered. You would too if you lived in some crazy combination of communist police state, democracy, and a college campus. Also, they have that Siberia thing.

What they’re saying is that booze now comes in pill form, killing the carb load and portable innefficiency of bottled beers and liquors, and giving us all new ways to party… not to mention prank. Slip one of these bad boys into your grandmother’s pill box and you’ll be drawing dicks on her face for passing out with her orthopedics on in no time! College kids are off the hook now too, provided they can show a modicum of not-retardedness. Can’t get busted for carrying a bottle of Advil like you can for a 30 rack of Natty Ice. Beer Pong will be harder, sure, but we’ve all got to make sacrifices.  

Most importantly, there is a benefit for myself. The advent of this wonderful technology will finally do away with one of my personal pet peeves: the breaking of the seal. Hearing somebody mention this fictional phenominon grates my ears like nails down Bobcat Goldthwait’s back. If you have to piss, you have to piss, and no amount of holding it in will make it happen less. Drinking less will, but since that wasn’t an option for us crazy cats, we’ve had to settle for hitting the head every 20 minutes. Now that I’m not drinking to get drunk, but rather doing bumps of it off of strippers’ asses, the worst I’ll have to do is blow my nose, and never have to hear anybody warn me “Don’t break the seal!” again. Turns out you go to jail for breaking peoples’ noses, even if they’re annoying twats.

Another pet peeve of mine that gets solved in this bold future? Bosses telling me my breath smells like liquor, “and a little bit of paste.” Now, all they’ll be smellin’ is grade A Elmer’s horse bones, mofo.

“Just takin’ my vitamins, sir.” Seriously, could this day have come fast enough?