5.4.2k9
Sometimes I miss SF. Not the bums, the urine-stench, the incessant cold ... no ... not the most prominent things in the city, but other things.
I miss my pals, the restaurants and the bars. I miss the proper TNSC. It's a drag to not be a big part of it anymore.
I mostly miss going to rock shows in SF. There ain't no good surrogate for The Fillmore, GAMH or Slims. Those three venues hosted so many of the best shows I ever attended it's impossible to count. LA has some pretty good venues, but none are terribly easy or convenient to get to. And FORGET about walking to them ... this place is too spread out. I walked to or from each of the SF places many, many times.
Enjoy the night tonight, I hear it's pretty typical weather. Yes, bring a jacket.
Tonight - Homestead.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Quinny Quinn Quinn
5.3.2k9
I subscribe to some spam here and there. I get spam from Peet's™, the Cubs, Da Bears and the Independent Film Channel. I got spam from IFC recently that delivered a facebook-like punch to the memory bean. And not unlike true facebook memory whacks, this one dates from what seems like a meeelion years back. During, in some respects, my former life.
I have a pal from school that I have loosely kept in touch with since we went to school together in Chicago. She moved to NYC at some point mid-90s, and I moved to SF a year or so later. While we were in school, and for several years after, we were pretty tight. We'd go to rock shows, movies, restaurants, race tracks and such. We even worked together for a time. We once rescued a Daniel Boone-like skin of fuckin' MEAD from her 1980 Olds Cutlass after it had been swiped by a gang and deliberately wrecked into their rival's ride. (Side note: An Olds Cutlass, even at moderate speed, will inflict some hideous damage to just about any rival gang's ride.) (Additio al side note: Mead is fuckin-A disgusting.)
Anyway ... some of you know my former GF, whom I refer to as The Previous Administration. She and I lived together for some time and that meant when her ma came to visit, she'd come and stay with us. I didn't mind her ma much. She was okay.
One time, The PA's ma was in town and my school pal came over to watch a movie. She said she'd heard of the great new French movie and that it was available at the local video store, so we walked over and got it. We threw it in the VCR and all got comfy. It was indeed a beautifully shot movie. And the story was pretty good: A super-hot French gal fell in love with a super-hot Chinese guy in what was formerly French Indochina. So what do two super-hotties do that love each other? You guessed it ... they got it ON! And ... on. And on. And on, and so on. At one point, he fucked her across the god damn floor.
Let me take a moment to remind you that it wasn't just me, my pal and The PA ... the PA's frikkin' MOTHER sat there with us watching a guy fuck a gal across a floor. I'm cool in most situations, but I draw the line at watching a guy buff the floor with a gal's ass in the company of a mom. It was so uncomfortable, I couldn't even get up and go out and smoke. I had to pretend I wasn't there. Better yet, I had to pretend I was asleep ... which I did. It was the only way out.
I'm going to ring up my pal and thank her again for screening pr0n for my former girlfriend's mom. And I'll tell her the IFC spam I got said that the very same flick is going to be on their station soon. See for yourself: Guy Fucks Girl Across Floor Movie.
Tonight - A first!!! "TNSC Two-fer" Meet up for Bingo at 8pm at The Knockout, followed by a trek down Missio Street to the infinitely less "childish" (JPo's words, not mine) Argus Lounge around 10-10:30.
See you there!! I know I'll be!!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
I subscribe to some spam here and there. I get spam from Peet's™, the Cubs, Da Bears and the Independent Film Channel. I got spam from IFC recently that delivered a facebook-like punch to the memory bean. And not unlike true facebook memory whacks, this one dates from what seems like a meeelion years back. During, in some respects, my former life.
I have a pal from school that I have loosely kept in touch with since we went to school together in Chicago. She moved to NYC at some point mid-90s, and I moved to SF a year or so later. While we were in school, and for several years after, we were pretty tight. We'd go to rock shows, movies, restaurants, race tracks and such. We even worked together for a time. We once rescued a Daniel Boone-like skin of fuckin' MEAD from her 1980 Olds Cutlass after it had been swiped by a gang and deliberately wrecked into their rival's ride. (Side note: An Olds Cutlass, even at moderate speed, will inflict some hideous damage to just about any rival gang's ride.) (Additio al side note: Mead is fuckin-A disgusting.)
Anyway ... some of you know my former GF, whom I refer to as The Previous Administration. She and I lived together for some time and that meant when her ma came to visit, she'd come and stay with us. I didn't mind her ma much. She was okay.
One time, The PA's ma was in town and my school pal came over to watch a movie. She said she'd heard of the great new French movie and that it was available at the local video store, so we walked over and got it. We threw it in the VCR and all got comfy. It was indeed a beautifully shot movie. And the story was pretty good: A super-hot French gal fell in love with a super-hot Chinese guy in what was formerly French Indochina. So what do two super-hotties do that love each other? You guessed it ... they got it ON! And ... on. And on. And on, and so on. At one point, he fucked her across the god damn floor.
Let me take a moment to remind you that it wasn't just me, my pal and The PA ... the PA's frikkin' MOTHER sat there with us watching a guy fuck a gal across a floor. I'm cool in most situations, but I draw the line at watching a guy buff the floor with a gal's ass in the company of a mom. It was so uncomfortable, I couldn't even get up and go out and smoke. I had to pretend I wasn't there. Better yet, I had to pretend I was asleep ... which I did. It was the only way out.
I'm going to ring up my pal and thank her again for screening pr0n for my former girlfriend's mom. And I'll tell her the IFC spam I got said that the very same flick is going to be on their station soon. See for yourself: Guy Fucks Girl Across Floor Movie.
Tonight - A first!!! "TNSC Two-fer" Meet up for Bingo at 8pm at The Knockout, followed by a trek down Missio Street to the infinitely less "childish" (JPo's words, not mine) Argus Lounge around 10-10:30.
See you there!! I know I'll be!!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, May 14, 2009
The Little Sneak!
5.2.2k9
If it were not for the deluxe lady I got my life would be sadly devoid of thrills these days and I know it. I can easily imagine my day-in, day-out if she weren't around to yell at me and it would be MONOTONY: Get up, go to work, come home, water lawn, have drinks, burp Ez, go to bed. Repeat M-F, throw in a few Cubs losses and that's it. yep!
Have discovered a small, almost insignificant treat that kinda rules, and I'm gonna have to remember it next time she's outta town.
Some time ago I told ya a couple storys about the Electric-aire restroom hand dryers. The storys aside, I got a love-hate relationship with them when I'm forced to use one. I hate that they take so goddamn long to dry one's hands, but I love the magic moment when the warm air so perfectly dries the last, minute amounts of water and leaves truly dry hands - not towelled, not 'moist' - dry. That's the only benefit of the hour it takes to use one them things.
So ... the thing that I've discovered that kinda rules is this: Lately, after washing my hands in the restroom at work, I paper towel-off the water, chuck the soggy nap into the trash - AND FINISH WITH THE ELECTRIC-AIRE. It's like cutting to the front of the beer line. It's like getting something for nothing. It's like having yr cake and eating it too.
Tonight - Burlesque!!!
"Little Minsky's" celebrates their 4th year at Club Deluxe.
Five buck-cover for them minsky peelers burlesque gals tonight. Go!
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Chicken balls.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
5.2.2k9
If it were not for the deluxe lady I got my life would be sadly devoid of thrills these days and I know it. I can easily imagine my day-in, day-out if she weren't around to yell at me and it would be MONOTONY: Get up, go to work, come home, water lawn, have drinks, burp Ez, go to bed. Repeat M-F, throw in a few Cubs losses and that's it. yep!
Have discovered a small, almost insignificant treat that kinda rules, and I'm gonna have to remember it next time she's outta town.
Some time ago I told ya a couple storys about the Electric-aire restroom hand dryers. The storys aside, I got a love-hate relationship with them when I'm forced to use one. I hate that they take so goddamn long to dry one's hands, but I love the magic moment when the warm air so perfectly dries the last, minute amounts of water and leaves truly dry hands - not towelled, not 'moist' - dry. That's the only benefit of the hour it takes to use one them things.
So ... the thing that I've discovered that kinda rules is this: Lately, after washing my hands in the restroom at work, I paper towel-off the water, chuck the soggy nap into the trash - AND FINISH WITH THE ELECTRIC-AIRE. It's like cutting to the front of the beer line. It's like getting something for nothing. It's like having yr cake and eating it too.
Tonight - Burlesque!!!
"Little Minsky's" celebrates their 4th year at Club Deluxe.
Five buck-cover for them minsky peelers burlesque gals tonight. Go!
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Chicken balls.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Lemon
5.1.2k9
What do you think about camping food? Do you settle for dogs and beans or do you make elaborate camping meals ahead of time for reheating outdoors like my mother used to make? I'd love to go fancy like that but more often I snag a mess of dogs and brats, buns, beans and corn. 'course ya got bacon and eggs in the morning but dinner is cooked over flamin' logs.
I was campin' years ago when I was in college. A few us fucked off down Southern Illinois town called Carbondale. Home of Southern Illinois University and Marion Fed. Pen. Got Gotti? Marion does. Had Gacy. He dead now. Anyway, Carbondale is a wonderful place to camp. Took a newbie camper with us (or he took us as he had the wheels) and boy was he un-fun. Fucking complained about the cold, the scary night noises, the rocks we threw at him and on and on. One night we were roasting some smoky links squewered on sticks over the fire when this fuckwit allowed his link to fall off stick and into fire. He quickly snatched it out only to make like he was going to heave it into the brush. Another pal stopped his hand, "What do you think yr doing," he asked. "It fell. It's got ashes all over it," he replied. I said, "then what are you going to eat, dummy? That's all you get. Wipe off the ashes and cover with mustard. It will be fine." He resisted, but realized it WAS his only dinner and complied. No big deal: I've eaten floor food many times.
So fast fwd to about a week ago when I'm on the patio of this bar w/ this babe enjoying some afternoon sun and an icy-cold adult beverage. The barkeep and some of his helpful pals were BBQing burgers and dogs for the patrons. Real nice. Then barkeep whips a pan of marinating chicken breasts to the grill's work area, only to place it badly and have it D R O P it on the pavement. Marinade, chicken breasts and pan. Barkeep's pals howled with laughter while barkeep visibly held back a full-on rage. Thinking quickly I yelled, "FIVE SECOND RULE!!" and barkeep's pals laughed a confirmation. Barkeep winked at me and picked the chicken off the pavement, paper-towelled off the 'bits' and threw 'em where jebus intended marinated chicken breasts to be: On the grill.
Catch Maggie Estep at City Lights @ 7pm, then cross the street and head to TOSCA for friends & cocktails.
Cash only. 25¢ for the juke box.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Happy belated Cinco de Mayo!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
5.1.2k9
What do you think about camping food? Do you settle for dogs and beans or do you make elaborate camping meals ahead of time for reheating outdoors like my mother used to make? I'd love to go fancy like that but more often I snag a mess of dogs and brats, buns, beans and corn. 'course ya got bacon and eggs in the morning but dinner is cooked over flamin' logs.
I was campin' years ago when I was in college. A few us fucked off down Southern Illinois town called Carbondale. Home of Southern Illinois University and Marion Fed. Pen. Got Gotti? Marion does. Had Gacy. He dead now. Anyway, Carbondale is a wonderful place to camp. Took a newbie camper with us (or he took us as he had the wheels) and boy was he un-fun. Fucking complained about the cold, the scary night noises, the rocks we threw at him and on and on. One night we were roasting some smoky links squewered on sticks over the fire when this fuckwit allowed his link to fall off stick and into fire. He quickly snatched it out only to make like he was going to heave it into the brush. Another pal stopped his hand, "What do you think yr doing," he asked. "It fell. It's got ashes all over it," he replied. I said, "then what are you going to eat, dummy? That's all you get. Wipe off the ashes and cover with mustard. It will be fine." He resisted, but realized it WAS his only dinner and complied. No big deal: I've eaten floor food many times.
So fast fwd to about a week ago when I'm on the patio of this bar w/ this babe enjoying some afternoon sun and an icy-cold adult beverage. The barkeep and some of his helpful pals were BBQing burgers and dogs for the patrons. Real nice. Then barkeep whips a pan of marinating chicken breasts to the grill's work area, only to place it badly and have it D R O P it on the pavement. Marinade, chicken breasts and pan. Barkeep's pals howled with laughter while barkeep visibly held back a full-on rage. Thinking quickly I yelled, "FIVE SECOND RULE!!" and barkeep's pals laughed a confirmation. Barkeep winked at me and picked the chicken off the pavement, paper-towelled off the 'bits' and threw 'em where jebus intended marinated chicken breasts to be: On the grill.
Catch Maggie Estep at City Lights @ 7pm, then cross the street and head to TOSCA for friends & cocktails.
Cash only. 25¢ for the juke box.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Happy belated Cinco de Mayo!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
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