Nick Hates Guiness

Don’t freak out! I’m not talking about their beer. I’ll always love beer and Guinness is no exception to that. I’m talking about their record book. It is interesting though that a company who brings me so much pleasure could also bring me so much pain. That a company which provides me with a beer with such a thick head could also expose me to thousands of people with even thicker ones.

On Friday, May 11th, James Peterson spent 16 hours attempting to set the world record for “Jersey-style” fist pumping. He set out as a man with a dream. Granted, he’s a dumb man with a dumb dream, but a man with a dream nonetheless. The training that must have been required for this feat is astounding.

“I used to hang light fixtures, so I am used to having my hands above my head,”

The sorts of scientific precautions and preparations he must have taken to ensure a perfect pump every time.

“My fist is super-glued together to ensure I maintain perfect fist formation.”

Peterson now joins the ranks of Charlotte Lee, who hold the record for the largest collection of rubber ducks:

And Paul Hunn, the worlds loudest burper:

Truly, the accomplishments of these great human specimens deserve our attention and awe as they be recorded into the annals of history by way of the Guinness Book Of World Records.

You know, that or never again allowed to occupy public life. One of the two.

People say, “Nick, why does this bother you? How does their obscure fame affect you in any way?” I’ll tell you how. The next time a friend of mine burps, my first thought won’t be, “nice one” or “way to go” it will be “Did you know that Paul Hunn can belch at a volume of 118 db, the same as a clap of thunder?” The next time Someone makes a reference to The Jersey Shore or fist pumping of any kind, in place of chiding them for such awful choices in television, I will tell them about how James Peterson only went 16 hours to set his record but would consider trying to hit 24 hours in the future, you know, for charity. God forbid anyone should bring up rubber ducks in my presence, it would conjure visions of the above photograph, which has now taken roots in my nightmares.

The point is these are now pieces of information that occupy my mind when, I dare say, they needn’t. The only thing I can do to make myself feel better about it is think about the fact that now that you’ve read this, it’s in your head too.

GOTCHA!

Enjoy this edutaining video as a consolation prize:

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