Whether you love the Winter Olympics ("Guns plus skiing equals yes!!") or hate them ("Stupid Winter Olympics need more gymnastics less ice dancing!"), everyone knows all Olympics are better with beer. Or whiskey. Or and whiskey. Welcome to the 2014 Sochi Olympics Drinking Game, the only way to enjoy the rest of these Olympics.
Every time you hear the word "footwork," everyone drinks.
If a butt meets ice or snow, last person to point and laugh must drink.
Every time Matt Lauer isn't Bob Costas, yell, "STUPID MATT LAUER!" and the person in the room with the most bloodshot eyes has to drink.
Johnny Quinn punches through the podium, chug.
Male figure skater pusses out and turns a triple into a double or single? Primal scream,
"Yevgeny Plushenko forever!!" and take a shot of vodka.
Every time a snowboarder lands a trick that sounds like it could be a sex move, chug a Mountain Dew.
If the biathlon is on, everyone shut the hell up and focus. This is awesome.
You see that clip of Al Roker and Matt Lauer doing the double luge? Double shot. Also,
I'm sorry. Watching that act is how Bob Costas got his eyes ruined. Yours are next. Figure skater falls, first person to yell "Toe pick!" gets to hand out three drinks to the rest of the players.
Scott Hamilton says "spectacular," last person to stand up and spin around drinks.
If you were watching women's hockey for five minutes before you realized it was women playing hockey, drink.
If you see that Procter & Gamble ad about kids falling down and moms making them get up and then the kids grow up and win the Olympics and the moms take all the credit, the last person to cry drinks and has to wear Pampers the rest of the night.
You hear a curler say a swear, fucking drink.
Kate Hansen pop-locking? Last one to do the dumb hand-motion thing from the video for
Beyoncé's "All The Single Ladies" drinks.
Three U.S. Olympians are on screen at once? Punch someone. Punchee has to drink. If those three Olympians were snowboarders, everyone has to get high. Punchee pays for pizza.
Happy Olympics! Yay, Bob Costas. Footwork, footwork, footwork.
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