R O B O T H O L I D A Y !!!

12.4.2013

Friendly reminder that there is NO THURSDAY NIGHT SOCIAL CLUB MEETING scheduled for this evening.

See you all in 2014!!

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Chef!!

12.3.2013

It was more than 10 years ago.  Jerry and I were heading to the City Club to pick up the meat for the BBQ.  We took the elevator up, walked the stairs past the mural and entered the kitchen.  The meat mountain was waiting for us.
Chef peeked around the corner.  "You guys want something LIVE?"
I immediately thought, "goat."
(Jerry later told me he immediatly thought, "goat.")
 "Uh ..." I said.
"C'mere!" Chef said and led us into the big 'ol fridge.  He turned and took something off a low shelf.  He turned ...
Two big squirming lobsters were the LIVE things he was talking about.
"Sure!  But how about just one?"
"You pussy!" Chef said.

He was right.  We ended up boring that lobster to death.

Tonight - the final "official" meeting of the 2013 calendar year.  C'mon out and wish honorary founding member Mathias Genser a happy birthday. 

See you at The Homestead

Happy Holidays to all and see you in the new year!!


bye-ee!
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Fe (REDUX)

12.2.2013

I've been honored and humbled by the award I've received from some very close friends and notable professionals: "Best Shirt-Ironer (Non-professional), 700 block Taylor Street, SF." Winning caught me by surprise, really, as I didn't have a thought of winning the thing at all. Founding Member Alan J. Chimenti nominated me as a joke, or so I thought. "No, man, I've noticed the crispness of your collar and your paper-smooth sleeves for some time. And to think you don't use any starch at all! My goodness!" Alan blows smoke up my ass all the time, so his news of his nomination of me didn't rile me. "Uh huh," I said, "that sounds great. I'll share my prize with you." I didn't know there was a prize. Alan gets one of the cufflinks (iron-shaped sterling-plated pure pig-iron (the prize-determination committee was not without a keen sense of irony, it seems!)). We'll roll up the other sleeve.
Then the reporter the Chronicle sends over is a bulldog! I thought I'd answered all the relevant questions in the first five minutes, but this person had other ideas. She wouldn't take "no more questions," or "no comment," or "I'm forbidden to speak about that," or "remember the gag order," for an answer. Whatever. Stay tuned to the Chronicle for the write-up.

Tonight - Dovre Club    (Get your Irish on!!)

C'mon out and wish Mathias an (almost) Happy BDay.

bye-ee!

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Deluxe Funnel! (REDUX)

12.1.2013

Well I quit my job. I had it up to here with the jerks at the plant, the tasteless lunches, the fatty snacks, the lousy (read: NO) coffee situation, the soul-sucking commute, the dangerous walk, the rickety bridge, the viscious dogs, the rabid beaver-squirells, the agressive panhandlers, the corrupt cops, the way-too-friendly street whores, the sub-average watering holes, the human, dog, and pidgey-widgey poop, the stiff toll, the "going-up-again" bus and train fares, the broken bike racks, the terrible wind, the ever-present clouds, the frozen mini-KitKats™ (which I like, mind you) and the stultifying conversations. I heard about a sexy new career on the radio, called the number it listed and showed up that day for my interview. I was hired on the spot! Hot damn that does a lot for a guy when he's havin' "One Of Those Days." I got a clothing stipend from my new boss (a sexy, silver-haired, 70-something granny), hauled ass to the Oakland Uniform Supply on Broadway, scored a sweet deal on what's known in the industry as "Car Salesman," WORE IT OUT OF THE STORE and hit the fuckin' bricks sporting my new gig: Reputation Consulting.

You read it right: Reputation Consulting. The multiple-choice test I took in my interview indicated that I was a natural, so I wasted NO time. My walk took me by my favorite "Donut & Things" and I ducked in and told Pebbles (his real name is Hsiung, but he makes everyone call him Pebbles (Why I do not know)) I told Pebbles he has the reputation of having the best goddamn donuts and things this side of MLK Drive and he said 'No shit Sherlock."  I asked him if he would like to talk about it and he asked if I would have my usual dozen glazed and mebbe a couple 52" duck-brown replacement shoe strings or some replacement cheap-o plastic dominoes or some various waxen numeric birthday cake candles or some really crappy dish towels or some likely toxic crayons or a shitty hand-held pinball game, or a grab-bag of toy barnyard animals or a flawed German-made coloring book or a pinata buster (with blindfold) or a Dick Tracy-themed 2-pack party hat or a 4-piece fruit magnet set or a 32-piece Jesus sticker set, or a garden knee pad or a 10-pack sponge hair roller or a metallic car dashboard sun shade and I said no! I was here to consult with him about his reputation and not donuts and, well, things. He said his reputation for donuts was great and I agreed. He said his reputation for things was great and I agreed with that too and so I set my sights on another couple peeps I knew needed a little reputation consultation: Linkey-Loo Coordinator, Porn Title of the Week Coordinator and, you guessed it, Lee, Lee The Musical Bee. They did not return my phone calls.

Tonight - on this projected frigid evening, come on out and warm up w/ your pals at The Lone Palm. 

See you there!!


bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Nissan (REDUX)

11.3.2013

I subscribed to a magazine called Make earlier this year. It chronicles and is dedicated to "Do It Yourselfers" (DIY) and the hack-jobs, modifications and tweaks they do to everyday things. Like turning a cheapy single-use digital camera into a multi-use cheapy camera. Like building an electric guitar out of a cigar box. And like in this month's issue, hacking yr espresso maker.

You might think, WTF would anyone want to hack their coffeepot or espresso maker. Turns out one can add a web interface to one's coffeepot that can control on-off status, temperature and the like. There are directions on how to modify the espresso machine to produce shots with the maximum amount of crema (and if you know anything about espresso, you know the crema is the fuckin' bomb.) I am fired up to drill, grind, hack, wire and totally DIY me a Frankenstein espresso/coffeepot.

Coffee is a meaningful part of my life. I heard a pussy-ass "commentary" on the NPR the other day where the puss was lamenting Strbux kiosks in the Safteyway stores. She went on about how they destroyed her memories of sitting around cafes, sipping coffeemilksugars and reading the Washington Post, because, since she was in high school at the time, she felt "bitchin." Not once did the bitch say that she actually liked coffee, only that she liked the lifestyle. Got a word for that kinda person; word is poseur.

The coffee situation in my little family has been turned on its fuckin head in the last couple of weeks. I bought a ittybitty thermos offa the eBay and now grind/brew fresh Peet's (best goddamn coffee inna world) every morn and bring it in to the joint I'm workin'. I had no choice, really, b/c the coffee situation is abysmal. Buy it from the place with long line, the other place with shite coffee or the other place where it's way too $$. Buy it. By the cup. Every-fuck-day. I gave up buyin' by the cup and control my own daily coffee adventure, in 6061-T6 Kaiser aluminum-style.

So that's the good! The bad, (the really GRAVELY bad) was reported to me just this morning: The ad joint where my lovely wife works has been awarded a part of the Starbux ad-making. So in good faith, the owners of the ad joint CANCELLED THE INSTITUTIONAL PEET'S COFFEE SERVICE AND NOW HAVE STRBUX. I feel soooo sorry for her.

Tonight - The Homestead 
(due to Thanksgiving preempting the final Thursday of the month, Homestead moves up a slot.)


bye-ee!

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Detonation (Redux)

11.2.2013

Man I wish it wasn't such a National scandal to like the French because lately I'm finding myself liking a lot of French things. No I ain't talking about POO-JOEs or Eiffel Towers. And I ain't even talking about Audrey Tatou, even though I think she's great. I'm talking about Frog mustard and Frog cheese. I got no problem with the former but I'm developing a prob with the latter. Read on and hold on to yr frikkin seats!

The brie that the Ralph's up the street sucks.


Tonight - Club Deluxe   (cash only)

Special request by TNSC founding member (and all-around nice guy) John Metsker.  C'mon out and buy him a drink!!  Also... we think (and some even hope) that it's Burlesque night, too.  Just a heads-up.  If so $5 cover.

bye-ee!
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Do you understand?

11.1.2013

I remember when old-fashioned metal garbage cans - the kinds with lids - were the only kind of garbage cans around.  That meant on garbage day, one garbage man drove the truck and one or two other garbage men clung to the back, stepping off at the next house to empty the cans into the gaping ass-end of the truck.  It made for a slow, loud and stinky process.

I remember when those cans were phased-out in favor of big, heavy-duty plastic bins with hinged lids that the truck would grip with a claw and fling it over its "shoulder," emptying the contents into the gaping hole in the top of the truck.  This technology drastically reduced the need for multiple garbage man teams, obviously.  And in some places, neighbors share big bins, while others, like in my neighborhood, each household has medium-sized bins.

You're likely familiar with all of this, if you pay attention or, y'know, take out the trash.  You might be like me and have three different bins.  One green one for organic debris (grass clippings and fuckin' lettuce and shit from the kitchen), one blue one for recycling and one black one for "trash and not recyclables or grass clippings or lettuce and shit from the kitchen."

I have a mostly dead yard, and the guys who cut the dead grass don't get a lot of yard debris.  So the green one is mostly empty when the trash guys come.  I recycle almost everything:  paperboard, cardboard, glass, plastic, rubber, metal, aluminum, homework, junk mail, etc., etc.  Rounding out the bins, the black one gets ... kitty litter.  Kitty litter and chicken bones.  Seriously.  That's about it.  Damn-near everything goes in the blue bin.  Even if I'm not sure that wire hangers are recyclable, I let the guys at the recycling plant sort that shit out (if the army of dumpster divers don't get it first).

On a recent trek through the neighborhood, I noticed one house had slim bins.  Probably not even half the size of the ones I have.  Sure enough, the bill for city services arrived that day.  Solid Waste Disposal, as it's called, is expensive.  I had an idea for saving some dough:  If I got the slimmer bins like my neighbor had, could I save some dough?  I would keep my blue, but ask for slim black and slim green.  Here's how the phone call to the trash guys went:

"I'm looking to save some dough.  Can I trade-in my big black and big green bins and get the slim ones?  I don't come close to filling the big ones I have," I said.

"You can get a bigger bin," trash guy said.

"But I want a slimmer bin," I said, "Can I save money if I use a smaller bin?  I don't fill the one I have."

"You can save money," trash guy said, "if you upgrade your bin to a big bin, then trade it back in."

"Is the big bin more expensive?" I said.

"Yes."

"So to save money, I need to upgrade to a bigger, more expensive bin, trade that back in, get the old one like I have now, and stop paying for the upgrade."

"Yes."

"That's saving money."

"Yes."

"Thanks," I said, "I'll just keep the bins I have."


Tonight - Special TNSC guests from near and far will be gathering at:

Royal Tug Yacht Club  (formerly Yong San Lounge)    
 (Hey!!  I used to live 2 doors down from this joint!! )




bye-ee!
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Eric Draven

10.5.2013

Here's a quote from a very famous story by Edgar Allen Poe:

No doubt I now grew very pale; --but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased --and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound --much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath --and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly --more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased.  

Just in time for Halloween, right?  RIGHT?

It's not just the Spooky Season that got me thinking of this story.  I got a steadily increasing noise of my own that's been driving me mad since last night.

Click.

C-click.

Click click.

"You hear that," I asked my Little Wife.

"No," she said.  But I heard it.  I heard it over the din of Dark Wave.  I heard it clicking away through Top Chef.  I couldn't take it any longer and I buried the thing in the fridge.  I hoped it would be sound-proof enough.

This morning I took the thing from the fridge.  Soon enough, my dread was realized:  "Click.  C-Click.  Click."

Oh how the sound of it cut into my soul.  I must rid myself of this!  I must rid myself of the Mexican Jumping Bean!  Look.  LISTEN TO IT!!

Tonight - Homestead.


bye-ee!
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Boo! Hisssss!

10.4.2013

Last week I harvested my Habañero plant, chopped up the peppers, cooked them down and once cooled, blended the be-jesus out of them with some white vinegar and a bit of salt.

Then I sterilized two half-pint jars in my pressure cooker.  I usually sterilize in boiling water, but since steam is hotter than boiling water, why not use the pressure cooker?  Once sterilized, I ladeled in the death sauce, lidded, banded and then chucked them back in the pressure cooker.  Dang but that fearsome device is fun!

I was fully in the pressure cooker (PC) swing, so I re-hydrated some dried pinto beans, grilled some meat, opened some cans and sauteed some onions and garlic.  I chopped up the grilled beast and chucked ALL the stuff back into the PC.  I've never made chili in a PC, but I was feelin' it.

Guess what?  The chili was great!

Guess what else?  The habañero sauce is REALLY REALLY HOT.  A frikkin' DROP of the stuff is hot enough to make ya cry.  So I think I'm gonna unseal the half-pints, sterilize some test tubes and distribute smaller portions to beloved friends of robot.

Thrills!

Tonight - Tosca!


bye-ee!
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Blast from the Past

Breaking News!

10.3.2k2

Shocking the entire TNSC community, the Founding Members today announced the appointment of two longtime List Members to the lofty status of Honorary Founding Members. Mr. Moss Gross and Mr. Mathias Genser sped through the appointment and confirmation processes and endured a formal but brief inauguration ceremony this afternoon at the TNSC's temporary headquarters near the Jon D. Fiore Room at the Tinhorn Bar in San Francisco's UN Plaza (the actual location of the TNSC's temporary headquarters is classified). (See photo spread at end of article.)

A press release by the Founding Members, read by outgoing TNSC Press Secretary/Master of Ceremonies Mr. Todd Lindo, declared Mr. Gross and Mr. Genser worthy of their appointments for being "especially diligent in attendance, utterly presentable in appearance, exceptional in generosity ... and excelling ... in promotion of the TNSC Spirit."

When asked for an explanation of "the TNSC Sprit" at the subsequent press conference, Founding Member Alan J. Chimenti stated, "That's a typo. It should have said 'TNSC Spit.'" Further explanation did not seem to be necessary, as the reporter from the Radium Glow retook her seat.

Mr. Gross is an ex-Navy SEAL, whose military exploits include infiltrating Iraq's fabled Republican Guard, singlehandedly tricking a battalion of the little devils into turning themselves over to the Coalition forces at Basra. He has a no-nonsense approach to closing car doors, buying drinks for other List Members and tweaking the nonsensical entertainment engines dreamed up by TNSC Robot and programmed by the geeks at the University of Bisbee. He joined the TNSC in 1997.

Mr. Genser boasts an impressive list of friends he wouldn't dare bring to a TNSC meeting, in addition to a well-managed and very stylish silver goatee. A World Record-holding skin diver, Mr. Genser legally changed his middle name to Abalone in 1977. He is known for selflessly giving people rides home after TNSC meetings, even if those he's driving are scattered all over the Bay Area. Mr. Genser has been a member since Spring 2000 and currently leads all List Members in consecutive meetings attended.


Here's a couple pics.



Misters Gross and Genser arrive at their Honorary Founding Member swearing-in ceremony, accompanied by TNSC Founding Member Mr. Alan J. Chimenti and Longtime List Member Mr. Cedrick Jonnae. Not Pictured is driver/Founding Member Mr. John Metsker. Photo D. Ingle UofB Bee



TNSC MC/Outgoing Press Secretary Mr. Todd Lindo administers the Club's secret rite, The Oath of Melissa, to Mr. Gross at precisely 13:37 PST, 17 October 2002. Attending the ceremony, from left: Old Crone, Mrs. David Hindley, Mr. Ceddrick Jonnae, Mr. Carl Kaphan, Founding Member TNSC Robot, Mr. Mark Bobek, Mr. Bob Roesler, Founding Member Mr. Alan J. Chimenti, Honorary Founding Member Mr. Mathias Genser, Honorary Founding Member Mr. Moss Gross, Porn Title of the Week Coordinator Miss Tama Blough, (Unidentified person), Mrs. Alan J. Chimenti, TNSC MC/Outgoing Press Secretary Mr. Todd Lindo, Founding Member Miss Susan Dynamite, Founding Member Mr. John Metsker and Longtime List Member Mr. Jason Porter. TNSC Patron, Mr. John Astin's likeness hangs in the background. (Some Members not to scale.) Photo D. Ingle UofB Bee



Tonight:  House of Shields  (because it rules)




bye-ee!
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Munchkin

10.2.2013

Some time back a guy came forward and said that years ago he and some chums got dressed-up in a home made costume and took some pictures.  They also made some fakey footprints in the forest and there ya have it!  The Bigfoot Legend was born!  While the general public was thrilled and terrified for years, scientists everywhere scoffed.

Another some time ago, some blokes went public with details about how they built a couple humps, a long neck-looking-thing and sailed it around a lake in Scotland.  Several people witnessed it and got photos.  Bingo!  The Loch Ness Monster Legend was born!  While the general public was thrilled and terrified for years, scientists everywhere scoffed.

A while back some scientists were classifying dinosaur fossils and named one species Brontosaurus.  It being such a gigantic beast helped it become one of the most widely recognized dinosaurs in all the land.  While the general public was thrilled for years, some scientists scoffed.

Since its discovery nearly one hundred years ago, Pluto was considered the 9th planet in our solar system.  Every school child in America and the rest of the world had the question on a test at least once in their scholastic careers:  What's the Ninth Planet in our Solar System? The general public generally loved the little planet.  A while back some scientists scoffed.

And while it sucks to be true, the scoffing scientists were right:

Bigfoot was a fake.
The Loch Ness Monster was a fake.
Brontosaurus was a misidentified Apatosaurus.
Pluto is a "Dwarf Planet."

Ya gotta have science on yr side, even if it fucks over yr once-favorite things.


Tonight - 500 Club


bye-ee!
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Stink lines

10.1.2013

Ez had a private swim lesson Saturday morning.  It was the last of the season, but the first of the day.  Getting the first private lesson of the day means you're not waiting for the private lesson before you to finish, especially if it's running long.  Because Ez's lesson was the last of the season, we told him we'd take him out to breakfast afterward.  We went to Norm's.

Norm's touts itself as a "Southern California Original."  I don't know.  It's basically a Denny's, IHOP, Bob's Big Boy or any other family feedbag-style eatery.  There's nothing different but for the Norm's sign, which is kinda neat.

As we guzzled hot coffee and ice water, Ez waffled between ordering -ahem- waffles, pancakes and French toast, eventually deciding on the latter.  I asked my Little Wife if she wanted to split a Denver omelet.  She said, "Whoa.  We aren't even on the same page.  I'm thinking CHICKEN FRIED STEAK."  I love her.  It came with eggs and toast.

I didn't want a heaping mountain of food, but I wanted crispy hash browns, some shredded swine flesh and some eggs.  I chose the 2-egg, 2-bacon, 2-pancake route with a side of hash browns, cooked extra extra crispy. 

The waiter, Joey, took Ez's and my Little Wife's order but was having none of mine.  "You will be paying more than you need to for that, señor," he said, flipping the menu pages.  He stopped on the first page - Mega Breakfast.  "If you order "The Lumberjack," you will get what you want and pay less than what you came up with."  I didn't argue.  I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK.

So the food came and Ez inhaled his French toast.  Little Wife dutifully covered the CFS with Tabasco® sauce and started her assault.  I beheld "The Lumberjack."

3 eggs
3 sausage links
3 bacon rashers
3 pancakes
1 slab hash browns

It was monstrous.  It was beautiful.  I'd NEVER finish it.  Or so I thought.

We ate and Ez was the only person to finish his breakfast.  We put the rest in two boxes.  We took home so much, in fact, that we stretched the original $30 dine-out breakfast into several more meals.  Check it:

Sunday morning Ez ate two of my pancakes and 2 of my sausage links.  A little later, I put one of my eggs and the rest of Little Wife's (even though she didn't want to take it) into a tortilla with some beans and taco meat and ate it while the Bears stunk up Detroit Rock City.
 
That's two more breakfasts.

Monday morning, Ez ate the last pancake and sausage link.  That's another breakfast.

Monday afternoon, I nuked the remaining carcass - er - Chicken Fried Steak and ate it for lunch.  So far that's 5 breakfasts and 1 lunch.

While the CFS was heating up, I took the two untouched slices of sourdough toast and made a turkey, salami and cheddar sandwich.  That, chips (or fruit cup) and a drink are ANOTHER LUNCH.  (I wrapped it up and stashed it in the fridge for Little Wife's lunch Tuesday.)

So for 30 bucks, we got 5 breakfasts and 2 lunches.  I didn't set out to stretch the Norm's breakfast that far, but it happened. 



Tonight - Persian Aub Zam Zam

Bruno is long gone, but you can still enjoy his legendary establishment.  Cash only.

 

bye-ee!
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Scoop Away

9.5.2013


I was running some errands the other day and wound up at Sprouts market.  It touts itself as "your Farmer's Market Market," or some such shit.  I heard from a park dad that it had good produce.  I didn't need produce (I got a REAL farmer's market for that), but I needed dried split peas, dried beans and rice.  They have bins full of that shit.

I scored what I needed, went home.  I cooked up Mexican rice and refried beans for Ez's dinner and I gotta tell you it was good.

Next morn I told my little wife about going to Sprouts and she said she hated that joint.  I said, whu?  Why?  She said she didn't like the bins; too many people snack on the shit in the bins.

"They help themselves to dried banana chips and chocolate pretzels and shit," she said.  "That's fucking gross."

I was about to say something and she said, "Same thing at Whole Paycheck.  People eat right out of the fucking bins.  Yuck."

I didn't doubt her.  So when I went back to Sprouts another "the other day," sure enough, there was some asshole eating right out of the bins:  She scooped-up a handful of dried red lentils and started munching.

Tonight - The Homestead.

Yep.  Happy end of the month.  


bye-ee!
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The swing ...

... of the pendulum thing.

9.3.2013

I don't know if The Onion takes submissions or suggestions for their snarky articles and/or one-liners, but I've come up with a couple recently.

I.

President Orders Nation's Flags Set To Half-Staff Permanently
Washington, D.C. - The President, citing the interval between mass shootings nearly nonexistent, orders flags at all Federal installations to be lowered to half-staff "henceforth."
"It seems that as soon as we raise the flag back to full staff, someone goes and shoots-up another group of people," he said, "and in light of the tragedy, I have to tell my guys to go back out there and lower the flags again.  They go down, back up, down again, back up for a day or two, then BANG, so down they go.  It's a colossal waste of time, raising them up just to have to lower them to half-staff again."

I could go on, but I think you get the gist.

II.  (This one is a parody of those Christian Televangelist assholes who claim that god sent that killer tornado to Oklahoma City because the state legislated same-sex marriage or some such shit.) 

Floods Ravaging Colorado "God's Punishment," Christian Group Claims

Colorado Springs, CO - Reverend A. S. Sclown, leader of the pro gun-control Plowshares Foundation today said in a press conference that the floods ravaging many parts of Colorado are "God's punishment" of the people of Colorado for recalling two pro gun-control legislators last week.  The two state senators, democrats Angela Giron of Pueblo and John Morse of Colorado Springs were recalled last week and voters replaced them with anti gun-control republicans.  "The Lord is clearly displeased with the results of the recall election," the Reverend said, "He sent these floods to express His feelings."  

It's not great, but there's something there.  Fuck it.

Tonight - Dogpatch Saloon
(a little off-the-grid, but a great old place conveniently along the T- Line)


bye-ee!
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They ain't all winners.

9.2.2013

Okay, so thrills in my life so richly detailed here in VAs from long-ago weeks are few these days.  At least ones that don't concern my Ez, my little wife, Jeep, cat, Cubs, Bears or Blackhawks.  So when an opportunity to MANUFACTURE a thrill pops up, I take a chance.  For better or worse or, as in this case, for nothing but a VA.

Among the reams of paperwork coming home from school in Ez's folder, Friday's lot had a flyer with a picture of a big mobile shredding truck and the words:  "Free Shredding!  Bring your documents to school Saturday and we'll shred them in this big ass truck!  Free tacos, too!  And fucking raffles for gourmet cupcakes, that new quinoa burger place and the "no lard" bakery.  Brought to you by the Crazy Gals Realtor Co."  As I had a box of shredables, and because I like tacos, I figured I'd go.  My little wife said, "buy some cupcakes."  I said they were raffling-off giftcards for the cupcake place.  "Buy some raffle tickets for the cupcakes."  Okay.

I chatted with the shred-truck operator and he was cool.  He said he could shred a desk with his truck and I asked if he ever tried.  No, he said, but he said he shredded some batteries before and they found the fire they made before it burned his truck down.

I excused myself from the truck and went to buy my raffle tickets.  I endured the realtor's sales pitches and signed up for a weekly email or something, give me my tacos.  I got my tacos and they were yummy!

So a couple days later the phone rings.  Predictably, it was the Crazy Gals.

"Hi.  Are you the man who brought his two gorgeous blonde girls to the shred event Saturday?"

"Um, no," I said, "and frankly, if I had a different life and two gorgeous blonde girls, I'd be going somewhere other than to a shred-fest with them."

"..."

"Oh!  Did you say young girls- like KIDS young?  No.  That wasn't me."

"Ah, okay.  Well you didn't with the raffle."

"Okay," I said, "the tacos were great and the shred truck was cool.  Thanks for bringing it along."

I'm pretty sure she wanted to hang up on me.  "You're welcome," she said, "would you like our newsletter?"

I told her I signed up for it at the shred-fest.  "If I'm going to buy a house, I'm gonna use you guys.  The Hell with those other realtors, right?"

"Um, okay.  Thanks."

"You bet, bye-bye."

Tonight - Zeitgeist


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SIKE! (sic)

9.1.2013

Summer summer summer party at the AD VER TIZIN' Agency!  You know what that means:  Booze, blues and tattoos (replace the last two with the first one and you get the gist).

My little wife's agency had their party yesterday (on a Wednesday, since today is "booked" by a Holiday).  I don't go to these things, the last among the reasons why not is that I'm not invited.  I do know the drill, though:  They go to work where busses and shuttles take them to the venue.  There, they drink, eat, drink, watch indie bands, drink, drink and drink.  Somewhere in there all their cellphones' batteries die.

Knowing this, we fit a "No Drunk Driving Home From The Day Drinking Booze Fest" into her commute.  I offered to drive her to work and either come get her when the busses took her back to the office or she could cab.  She drove herself to work and Ez and I would go get her if she was impaired.

Around mid-afternoon, we agreed that I'd go get her at the office after I collected Ez from school at 6p.  She'd take the bus back and be there around the same time.  While I was picking him up, my phone rang but I couldn't pick it up.  I checked the vmail almost immediately and she said on it, "My phone is dead, call my office phone, please."  I called it and got vmail.  "She must be in the potty," I said.  I talk like that now.  "Potty."  Jesus.

Ez and I drove over to her office.  She didn't ring back while we were en route.  She didn't answer when we got there.  The place was buttoned-up tight, so we couldn't go in to look for her, even if we knew where to look.  We waited.

We waited.  We called.  Got voice mail.  We waited.  For an hour, we waited.

"Fuck this shit, Ez, we're outta here," I said to Ez, not quite in that way.

At home, later, I was making Ez dinner and the phone rang.  A 773 area code, so it was coming from Chicago.  Nope, it was my little wife on a pal's phone.  "Can you come get me now," she asked.  I told her we already did and she wasn't there so we went home and we're busy now so she was on her own.

She came home and apologized.  She said she was at her office when she called, but she left to get more drinks and tacos with her pals.

I think the old, "Come get me but I ain't gonna be here" is so goddamn weird that it's useless getting bent outta shape.  It's annoying, but, Hell, it's a good trick.

Not that I'm gonna try it on her.


Tonight -  Latin American Club.    Yay!!


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Toss Cookies

8.5.2013

So I'm just past five years as a dad robot, and just when I think things are coming together, things dramatically change.  Kindergarten, for example, is upon us.  It brings a new schedule, new relationships for kids and adults, homework, PTA meetings and a non-stop request for volunteers for various events and positions and of course, for cashola.

I'm waiting for the day that I can win the bake sale.

Ideally I can get access to the school's kitchen and thereby have lots of room to work, several industrial-sized kitchen appliances and big fuckin' ovens.  I'm going to make pies, cupcakes (and not those stupid frosted TV-show cupcakes) and cookies.  I got a killer recipe for cookies.

It's based on the - gulp - Martha Stewart chocolate chip cookie.  The thing I really like about her recipe is she calls for the sugar and fat to be beaten in a stand mixer for 10 minutes.  This obviously adds lots of air and makes for a cookie with a soft center.  20 minutes in the oven gives them a crispy crust.  Super.

My mod to the recipe is fondue.  I add fondue.  We had some leftover chocolate fondue and it would be unacceptable to chuck it, so I melted it, poured it on a sheet pan and froze it.  Then I removed it from the pan, chopped it into morsel-sized chunks and use them in the cookies.  It melts fast and gives the cookies a cool-looking and tasty marbling.

This is the cookie that will bring home the prize.  That bake sale is MINE!


Tonight - Homestead.

Birthday shout-out to Heather Lake.  Come on out and buy her a drink! 


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

The "Family Recipe"

Gotta Wear Shades (REDUX)

8.4.2013

There's a Rite-Aid right across the street from me and I've found that they have really cold beer that's always on sale. $10 for an 18-pak. I'm going through a few of them 18ers a week (yike!) and it helps to keep the cost down.

I ducked over there just last night to re-fuel and I remembered to check the back-to-school section that was being massively restocked the day before. (I wasn't buying beer the day before. I didn't drink 18 beers on a school night. I was buying Junior Mints for the freezer. They got a good price on them Jrs too and I always have to have something minty in the icebox and none of them little sluts came around whoring their cookies this year so I gotta go with Plan B, ok? (Shut up, Alan.) I chose a bunch of new ink pens (on sale!), got my beer and got in line. I waited as the person in front went through about a trillion coupons until she found the one she needed. I waited. I looked around. Behind me was a Post cereal display and I thought about the eternal debate of whether Cocoa Pebbles are better than Cocoa Krispies (they are better ... way better). Then I noticed the sign: ALL POST CEREAL $1.79. I snagged a box of Grape-Nuts. I like eating very small rocks with milk.

At the check-out, the counterman said, "damn. I ain't had Grape-Nuts forever. My mom used to get that for us." Then he looked at me. "I hated Grape-Nuts." As this guy looks like he's on parole I told him he could put them back.

Tonight - Doc's Clock
See you all there in a timely manner.



bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

3 Strikes

8.3.2013

There's a difference - a big difference - between things that are bullshit and things that are just wrong.  Most of the content on the intertubes is bullshit.  This we know.  Then ya got the things that are wrong.  I just came across one:

From npr.org:

Frank McCourt is a curse word in Dodgers Stadium. He is the team's former owner, pretty much universally despised for putting profits over play. It got so bad, Major League Baseball forced him to sell the team a year ago. He kept the parking lots.
The new owners — a group that includes Lakers icon Magic Johnson — shelled out hundreds of millions of dollars to bring the team, and the fans, back. (Baseball fan Gus) Castanis was there through it all.
"So I figure this must be payback," he says. "Penance."
And maybe that's where the magic is coming from here in the Magic Castle. Down by two runs, 2-4 at the bottom of the ninth, the fans still have hope.
"It's exciting no matter what because you feel like you have a chance," Castanis says.
Which is why he stands when Andre Ethier takes the plate, down two, facing two outs. Ethier hits a two-run homer, tying the game at 4.


Soooo ... a lousy owner for a couple of years is all it takes for a historic season turnaround?  For a never-say-die attitude?  For unparalleled success?  um ...

Again from the article:

"There's always a chance," Castanis says. "And I don't know, maybe there's something about, how many people are left here? Twenty thousand people? All believing we have a chance that maybe makes Andre Ethier think that he's got a shot of hitting out to left field. That was exciting."

Ah.  20,000 people believing the Dodgers have a chance is what it takes.  I get it.

Wrong.  Dead wrong.  Wishful thinking.  If "believing" is all it takes, the Cubs would be back-to-back-to-back, etc., etc. World Champs.  Lots more than yr average 20,000 fans + area fans + bandwagon jumpers + Vegas and shit.  Lots more.

The Dodgers have what are called "professional baseball players."

Tonight - Kozy Kar.
Throwing 'em back 70's-style!!


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Gonna go WILD!

8.2.2013

 When I was a wee robot, my sister, brother and I had to devise a ladder to reach the on/off switch of the TV to watch Saturday morning cartoons, cuz my parents did not want to get up as early as we did.  I'm sure most of you experienced something similar.

FF to today and my Little Wife and I are enduring Saturday and Sunday mornings much like our folks did, but in our case, the solution is ... the iPad.  Natch.

He gets 15 minutes of Angry Birds (he was shown how to set the iPad's timer to count down from 15 or whatever).  When he's interrupted by the timer ending, he switches to PBS Kids streaming programming.  He used to watch an episode or two of Dinosaur Train, Super Why! or Wild Kratts, but more and more these days, it's more like an hour or two.

I know it's rationalization to say "at least it's PBS ... it's educational."  But looking back to the crapitola cartoons we used to watch (complete with scads of commercials), he does have it better.

Come on!  He knows what an Angler Fish is, for fuck's sake.

Tonight - The Residence.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Photo Boof (Redux)

8.1.2013

I don't have a lot to say today, but I have a fun post nevertheless. My home email address is very simple and Apple-based, as it was originally provided by my membership to their dot-mac service, (which became ",me" with the advent of their iPhone service, and then ".icloud" when their cloud service was launched. What with the proliferation of Apple Stores around the country, and their internet-enabled "hands-on" demonstration computers laying around within, it wasn't a total surprise that when the camera-enabled computers came around that some snapshots got emailled to me from the store. Call it Spam if you like, but after a few came through I started to save and enjoy them. Here they are, for your amusement. Strangers w/ Apples. Mebbe it's a bug. Mebbe it's marketing. I don't care. I like the snaps.











Tonight - Vesuvio - a North Beach classic!

BTW, none of the above people will be there.


bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

FML

7.4.2013


Facebook is a fun place, most of the time, and I try to make it even more fun for myself and the two people I'm FB friends with.

I'm fixin' to make a new FB "Group" called "First World Problems."  You know, the kind that any poor, emaciated, rag-wearing man, woman or child in one of the world's mudholes would LOVE to have as the worst part of his or her day.  IOW, they got BIG problems.

The inaugural posts will be:

My cornerpin didn't work (the one pal who's in visual effects can relate to this);
and
I'm out of Sambal Olek (the other FB pal likes firey food.)

I think this group will be a success and we'll have fun with one another's ridiculous non-problems.

Tonight - Homestead.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Now Milton... (REDUX)

7.3.2013

I got busted by my girl when I showed her what I bought.
"eBay item"

I think it's practical and hilarious.
She thinks it's practical and stupid.

Therein lies the fundamental difference btw men and women.
Funny how it sometimes takes a stapler to point these things out.

Tonight - Shotwell's   See you there!


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Blazing Saddles! (Redux)

7.2.2013  (originally posted 7.2.2007)

I'm finishing up a book that I have found utterly fascinating and while I don't make a habit out of reccommending books I'm compelled to do so in this case. It's called World War Z. In short, it's a collection of interviews with the survivors of a worldwide zombie pandemic. In this holocaust, many BILLIONS of people are killed, many by zombies and in turn reanimate to stalk the living themselves. Aside from my love of zombie movies, comics, stories, etc., this book's undead protagonist could very easily be replaced by a mutated avian flu outbreak or SARS or such. It explores the political, geographical, military, personal and many other points-of-view so deftly and maturely that it's easy to see the fictionalized could manifest into the real if such horrors came to be. I've dreamt of the situations described, and I think of them throughout the day. It's creepy as hell.

I've also been bringing the copies of my Wired Magazine subscription to work after I've read them and ditching them in the restrooms for folks to paw through while taking care of biz. Some asshole has taken the last five issues home with them. I'd love to publicly humiliate them.

Tonight - The Page.  See you there!


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Hey Baby...

7.1.2013

... It's the 4th of July!!

** NO MEETING THIS EVENING **

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

The Underhill's bill

6.4.2013


The LA Unified School District graduates its students in June, then scoops'm back up for the next school year in mid-August.  SHEESH that's a shorty summer break - way shorter than the May metriculation, June-July-August and some of September that I experienced while in public school (not in the LAUSD, though.)  Anyway, Ez's and my Thursday ice skating routine (his lessons and my gabbing with our pal Bruce), which is often just the three of us and one ice control stooge was last week inundated with school kids now needing stuff to do during the day.

Also occurring last week, of course, was the wrapping-up of the NHL season, with the Stanley Cup Finals underway, my beloved Chicago Blackhawks needing a few more wins to eliminate the last of the contenders.  And since the Hawks eliminated the LA Kings, there were a few folks still not too happy with the continuing success of the Mighty Blackhawks.

One such little shit (who is a very good skater) skated up to Bruce and said:

I asked Bruce who the fuck is this guy and he said he's in his daughter's class.  I asked why he was dressed like a waiter and Bruce said he graduated earlier in that morning.

After the little shit continued to fuck with Bruce I suggested that he countered the really clever "Chicago Sux" with lunch orders.  Bruce thought that was a good idea and undid the kid's next "Chicago Sux" with:  "I'll have a club sandwich, fries and an iced tea."  Then the next one with:  "Buffalo wings extra hot and a Miller High Life®."  It was funny to see the kid's confusion.

 It will be funny to ask him if Chicago still "sux" if we see him today:

Whoops!  That was supposed to be THIS:

Tonight - The Homestead (last Thurs of the month!)


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Ludwig Van

6.3.2013


The other day the wheels came off.  LITERALLY.

Ez had plenty of protection - gloves, knee pads, elbow pads, shoes and a helmet - so I took the training wheels off his bike.  It almost didn't happen, however, but a very kind act by a very nice guy saved the day.

Ez and I wheeled over to the school parking lot.  He on his training wheels and me on the clown bike (20" wheels).  I brought along a socket wrench to remove the trainers and did so while he donned his pads.  As we were about to start, we heard a voice:

"Sorry guys, you can't bike here."  A guy with a orange vest, an ID on a lanyard and a walkie was approaching.

I said, "Really?"

"I'm afraid so," he said, "we had a bike get hit by a car recently so bikes are now forbidden.  It's an insurance thing.  I just had to run off some skate boarders and rollerbladers, too."

I said, "Can't we go waaaay over there into the corner where there isn't anybody?"

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Dang," I said, "what a world we live in.  Can't walk to school, can't bike in the school parking lot ..."

"I know," he said, "I'm sorry."

I told Ez to hang on a sec because I had to reattach his training wheels so we could leave.

"Wait," he said, "is this what I think it is?  Is today THE DAY?"

I said yes.

He didn't even hesitate.  "Okay, I haven't seen you yet.  If you go waaaaay over there into the corner where there isn't anybody and stay right around there, I won't see you because I don't look over there."

I said, "Super!  Thanks!  We don't see you either!  C'mon, Ez!"

And this is the result:

Tonight - Virgil's Sea Room.  brand new!! (formerly Nap's)
You can read more about it here.
Experience it before everyone else does.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Tech Noir

6.2.2013

Since I mostly work at home and therefore don't commute by bike or any other method, I recently started going on 10-or-so mile bike rides.  There's a bike path along a riverbed or creek bed near us and one can ride continuously for many miles.  It's great not to have to battle traffic, and the fish butt-stench isn't too overpowering.

I rode east along the path the other day and instead of riding back along the same route, I took a city streets-route back home.  Since I've been riding on city streets for most of my adult life, I'm careful to avoid situations where I might get hit.  I also "mostly" obey traffic rules and regulations and keep my actions predictable for motorists.  That said, some folks just have to be dicks.  Here's an example.

Traffic was very light in the area I was in and I needed to turn left at an intersection that's sometimes busy but not now.  What was happening now was that traffic was light enough to have really large gaps between groups of cars.  I did an "empty streets" thing and cut across the street before my left turn, hop up on the vacant sidewalk and ride on the sidewalk.  My plan was to cut across the oncoming lanes and merge across to the far right.

Ahead of me in the oncoming lanes I could see a few cars at least a half mile away, so I knew I had time.  Glancing over my right shoulder, a half-dozen or so cars were about to pass me, so I waited until most of them were past me and started my move across the oncoming lanes.  Nothin' to it.

The last car that passed me had his window down and addressed me in this whiny-asssed voice:

He really hung on the "thaaaaat."

I couldn't help but go into Terminator mode to respond to him:

I just saw The Terminator for the zillionth time so that memorable scene in the hotel room is fresh in my mind.  As a rule, I don't swear at drivers and usually don't talk to them at all (they are unpredictable and antagonistic!) but this time I did reply.  My selection is noted above with the non-blinking cursor.

Tonight - Club Deluxe.

Don't forget there's a $5 cover and that gets you Little Minsky's Vaudeville - Burlesque Review!  A paltry sum for good fun! 


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Muscle and Pain

6.1.2013

In 1996 I moved to San Francisco from Chicago.  I brought with me some cats, some comics, some CDs and various other things.  I had the bulk of the stuff shipped by a moving company and I guess I chose a lousy one because my stuff didn't show up for nearly two months after it was picked up.  But that's another story.

I had to get phone service.  I hooked up with the local phone company.  Same with gas, power, trash and the other utilities - I needed to hook up with the local utility companies.  No shit, huh?

What I didn't need to do was hook up with a local baseball team.  Or a local football team.  No thanks, I had those covered.  They came with me.  Over and over again I heard, "yr in SF now, ya gotta be a Niners fan.  Ya gotta like the Giants now."  Uh, what?  Why?  Who the fuck says I gotta like the local teams? 

If that sounds familiar to you, I'm not surprised.  I've heard the thing since moving down here to LA.  "Yr Dodger blue, now!"  Fuuuuuuck no I'm not.  Go ahead and flipflop to yr new town's teams if you want, but don't expect me to.  I can't figure out why anyone would, frankly.

I brought this up because I posted the picture below to my Facebook whatever.  One of my FB pals said, "Don't you live there now?"  Yes, and so what? 

Tonight - Iron & Gold


bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

The Madhouse on Madison

5.5.2013


Last night's fantastic victory of the Blackhawks over the Scum (Red Wings) was particularly satisfying not because it was our third win in an elimination game in a row, nor was it because our probable game-winning goal with 1:47 remaining in regulation was waved-off by an atrocious penalty called behind the scoring play; it was particularly satisfying because our opponent was our arch rival, our mortal enemy, our nemesis, and it took everything we had to vanquish them to the post-season golf course.  Or whatever they do in Sweden.

I told Alan that in the spirit of the Blackhawks' big playoff series win I would relate the story of me breaking the silence in a tomb-like Chicago Stadium during a Hawks game many years ago:

I was sitting with some friends at center ice (but about a million rows up) at a game against the Calgary Flames.  The play was back-and-forth, exciting and fast-paced, but scoreless through the first period and then halfway through the second.  That's when the star of the Flames, Theo Fleury, took a pass on a breakaway and beat our goalie high glove-side.  Boo.  Then I noticed something:  The entire 20,000-person crowd at Old Chicago Stadium was silent.  No one made a sound.

I took it upon myself to change that:   I stood up, made a bullhorn with my hands and yelled, "BOOOOO!!" as loudly I could.  The stadium was so quiet that a moment later, the echo of my "BOOOO!" sounded off the far wall and came back to me ... and everyone at center ice a million rows up.  They all heard it and looked at me (since I was the only one standing) and I could tell they enjoyed the echo as much as the sentiment.  Many of them added their own BOOS and a moment later the entire stadium voiced their displeasure at the Flames' goal.  My pals and many others in my section - for the remainder of the game - congratulated me for breaking the awkward silence.



Tonight - Homestead.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Puffy Yumi Umi

5.4.2013

I'm sitting here trying to finish a couple things before I go snag Ez, lace up our skates and hit the ice.  I raise my right hand to cover a sneeze and I graze the front of my T-shirt and come up with some weird-looking funky goop.  Ah shit!  What in Hell is this?  Did I sneeze a big boogie right on the front of my shirt (I've done that before, many times)?  This stuff doesn't look like big boogie:

Again, What in HELL is it?  Is that BLOOD in there?  Fuck.

Oh wait.  It's this

with a shitload of this

 in it. 

I had a pre-burrito snack a while back and I must have slobbed a blob of it on my shirt.  I'm classy, ain't I?


Tonight - Lucky 13.

Do you like my sausage-y fingers?

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Juan's Goat: More coffee rants.

5.3.2013


In January of this year, social media erupted with the story that Dunkin' Donuts' CEO announced the company was expanding into Southern California.  People were going apeshit about it.  I love a good donut (and I like spelling it that way), sure, but most postings, and indeed the CEO's press release itself noted that most people were clamoring for Dunkin' Donuts coffee. 

Since I've lived in California for - shit - 17 years, it's been quite a while since I've had donuts, coffee or anything else from Dunkin' Donuts, so I took it for granted that their coffee was a step up from other donut shops' godless, soulless, horrible coffee.  Some day I thought I'd look into it.

That day came a week or so back on my Little Family's last day of our Florida trip.  We were driving around Cocoa Beach and passed a Dunkin' Donuts.  I asked my Little Wife if we could stop in and she agreed.  I got a chocolate-frosted, chocolate cake donut for her, a heart-shaped "brownie batter" donut for Ez and a SOUR CREAM donut and a large Dunkin' Donuts coffee for me.  God damn but my donut was good!  Holy shit.  And on the flipside:  God damn but my large coffee was bad:  It was burnt!  It wasn't all that great beyond being burnt, but it was burnt!  They served up everyone on that same "pot" World-Famous Dunkin' Donuts burnt goddamn coffee.  Suck it, Dunkin' Donuts.

So because I tend to obsess a bit about things like this, I snagged a vacuum-sealed pound of "Dunkin' Donuts Whole Bean (Original Blend)" coffee from the Von's the other day.  I ground up a batch, brewed it up and poured a cup.  Uh ... Not good.  Experiment over.  I'm back to Peet's and I can't say that curiosity won't again get the best of me, but I'm here to stay.

Tonight - by request - Minibar 


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Save our planet: It's the only one with beer

5.2.2013

My little family and I went to Florida last week to visit kin.  Florida!  Bugs, Space Centers, beaches, crazy weather, pools, dipshit people, gators and beers from Pittsburgh.

I know some lovely people who hail from or live in Florida.  It also has some really beautiful birds, creatures and landscapes.  Here is a swamp that I walked around in with my little family:

Another feature is that, unlike California, its ocean is warm.  Also unlike California - and something that completely surprised me - Florida drivers KNOW HOW TO DRIVE.  Especially on highways!

Yes!  People drive on the right and pass on the left.  People move over when there are vehicles stopped on the shoulder.  People let people merge.  People use their turn signals.

I used to think that most Floridians that weren't college students, retirees or theme park employees were a bunch of weird, swamp-dwelling rednecks.  I still think that, but now I think they're weird, swamp-dwelling rednecks that have excellent driving habits.

Tonight - Lone Palm


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Who can you trust? (Redux)

5.1.2013

It's always helpful to know different approaches to difficult situations. Like hangovers for example. Mebbe you've tried and tried but just can't find a way to alleviate the effects of yr fun the night before. I solicited five-or-so List Members and collected their "cures." Next time yr in a bind and gotta get up for 9am dailies (often in my case) or catch the early bus while feeling like hell try one of these:

Anonymous List Member 1.
Date of hangover: Damn....I really can't remember the "last" one.
Cure:  Water, aspirin, coffee (lots of it) water, aspirin, coffee (spiked) water, aspirin, coffee, bloody, beer
Effectiveness: Medium


Anonymous List Member 2.
Date of hangover:  Specific date was April 29.
Cure:  I alleviated it by brewing a large pot of coffee and slaughtering approximately 9,253 Nazis in a three-hour period. I also would ocassionally pet Dave Revis's dog, Heidi.
Effectiveness:  High


Anonymous List Member 3.
Date of hangover:  I guess it was during the 70's.
Cure:  As well as I can remember, it just wore off with the passing of time. It involved headache and there was no playing the puke-a-lele.
Effectiveness:  Low


Anonymous List Member 4.
Date of hangover:  Last week.
Cure:  Fried egg and bacon sandy, green or red GatorAde, TCPPWD (thin-crust pepperoni pizza well-done) Margarita on rocks w/ salt.
Effectiveness:  Wishful thinking


Anonymous List Member 5.
Date of hangover:  the last one that stands out is new year's eve. not drunk, but not well.
Cure:  what i did to alleviate the symptom? grovel.
Effectiveness:  n/a


Anonymous List Member 6.
Date of hangover:  This Monday.
Cure:  Went to work and had to grin and bare it. Soon as I got off work I went and had a few slices of pizza and a couple shots and beers.
Effectiveness:  None

Anonymous List Member 6.
Date of hangover:  it's the last time you were here, that Saturday.. the worst hangover, nothing could help.. or so I thought... I puked about four times on my empty stomach.. can I eat?, I should eat?.
Cure:  ate a banana, puked it, but there are worse things to taste a second time than a banana. and then it was as though the sky split open, and the angels came floating down, and when they did they were in the form of my Man and he was holding bags of food... from Taco Bell. I had a chicken quesadilla-no sauce and a giant diet mystery soda (you know the ones that are so bad, they just taste like a mixture of soda flavors) and I was semi cured..
Effectiveness:  Semi

There you have it. Go try each one. Get back to me.

Tonight - The Orbit Room

Special guests from near and far!


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Elfy Aladdinballs

4.4.2013

If you've ever gone to an art supply store and looked around, you know that art supplies are really fuckin' expensive.  Paint, markers, paper, clay ... all that stuff costs big bucks.  It's no wonder that lots of artists are broke because they spend all their moo-la on supplies.

I went to the Blix art supply store the other day and bought some resin.  I aim to coat some "Batarangs" I cut out of styrofoam sheets.  I did a test on some scrap styro as I've never worked with this kind of resin before and the test went well.  It was a bit messy, but I prepared for a mess so cleanup was a breeze.

I did, however, overestimate how much resin I needed to mix up and had some left over.  I realized that I still had a mold I'd made out of some OTHER resin the last time I fucked around with the stuff and quickly snagged it, dusted it off and poured the excess goop into it.  I waited the suggested 72 hours before I de-molded it and it turned out well!  Check it:

I made it from this sketch I did many years ago on a note to make three 3/4" dubs of KLCK 3103 and send them to Bonnie at Leo Burnett (she was on the 15th floor, yo).

I need to make a cig and some legs for the little fucker to finish it.  Then I send it to someone.  Maybe Phil.  (The other Phil.)

Tonight - The Homestead.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Yahweh Redux

4.3.2013

I knew my friend Jamee was going to throw out her decades-old boom box and I had an idea and then asked her if she'd heaved it yet. She said she did only to recover it from the bin moments later so to tune into the radio. But she did give it to me. She brought it over and explained that it wasn't just the radio program that compelled her to save it, but her odd habit of anthropomorphizing inanimate objects. I knew just what she was talking about.

Ever since I was very young, I've been assigning human characteristics to non-human and often times non-living things. As a child I had a gingerbread man that I named Oscar and kept for weeks. Every one of my bikes have had names, the two most recent being Sir Francis Gary Powers and the aptly named, "Chuck." The cars, hats and sunglasses have had names. My hot sauces, the steadfast soldiers they are, have names. My charcoal Weber grill is named, "Fireball." It's slightly compulsive, I know, but I don't give a damn. It helps me sort shit out.

So Jamee bid farewell to her trusty boom box and I gladly accepted it. She asked why I wanted the old thing. I told her I was going to tear it's bits out and Frankenstein me a outdoor speaker-system for my iPod. She was horrified. But she let me have it anyway.

Tonight - A special excursion to Alameda:  Forbidden Island

There we'll be entertained by none other than Bud E Luv

1st set is 8pm, so get there early if you can.


bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Froggy!

4.2.2013

Nothing really interesting to report, but Ez has found Scooby-Doo cartoons and he is enjoying them.  I noticed in the credits that Matthew Sweet (former indie rocker) does the music and doing the VO for the enigmatic "Mr. E" in the show is one of my favorite comedians, Lewis Black!  Fun stuff, and even though these are newish Scooby cartoons, they're not revolting to look at and really stupid, as many new cartoon series are.

Also not really noteworthy is that my stable of Weber™ cooking devices all got a Spring Cleaning and are looking great.  SmokeBall, my Weber™ Smokey Mountain® smoker got a once-over twice, and I'm looking forward to smoking some exciting stuff this very weekend.  On the list:

Cheese
Almonds
Garlic
Tomatoes
Jalapeños
AP Flour
and
Sea Salt

I'm going to use the last two as ingredients for smokey biscuits and such.  I've never smoked cheese, flour or any of the other things before, so I'll be treading new ground.  But I can't wait and I'll let ya know how it goes!

Tonight - The Armory Club.
Whip it good!


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

#88

4.1.2013

What time is it?
Oh shit!  It's time to go skating!

And later, it's time for:

Tonight - Doc's Clock.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Bombardier!

3.4.2013

I found my United Airlines flight to PHX on Travelocity® or Whizzo, Plang!, JizzJet or some other travel-assist site; it was $400 cheaper than my usual carrier, Southwest Airlines.  That's a lot of Arizona Lottery scratchers!

...uh

I had more here, but it bored me to death.  So I'll stop.

Tonight - Homestead.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Pinch Hit

March.21.2013

'Cuz the robot is nowhere to be found, there are flights to be caught, and responsibilities exist.

Direct your livers to the destinatio  below.

Tonight - Minibar


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

CLST2013 D-Day -7

March.14.2013


Here's a riddle:  What do you get when you cross an old-folks' home with a frat party?

Answer:  Our collective Cactus League Spring Training experience to date!

If yr one of the Lovely List Members that also travels to the desert southwest every March to see Big League teams play baseball in Little Stadiums, you know what I'm talking about!  We usually go to the Cubs' stadium in Mesa, and it is chock-full of blue-haired old people.  I'm not talking about young 59 year-olds, but real-live OLD people.  Slow movers.  Tucked in shirts.  Socks and sandal old.  And the frat party?  Why that's where the SF Giants play:  Snottsdale!  Not far from ASU and certainly where the "beautiful people" go, the place is overrun with slutty chicks, blotto jocks and everything they bring with them.  It kinda sucks and it got old.

So this year, starting one week from today, the CLST gang is going to new stadiums.  Places called "Talking Stick" and a place named after a tire.  Seeing teams we don't give two shits about, like the Cleveland who-cares Indians and the "South Side Chicago" team.  AMERICAN LEAGUE TEAMS, for fucksake.

Can't wait.

And 

Tonight - 500 Club
(cuz we'll see if the Cubbies can top .500 this year - ZING!!!!) 


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

The Streak!!

07.Mar.2013

Not the 70's kind, unless you're talking about the '76 Flyers, but the CHICAGO BLACKHAWKS!! What have I done to deserve this?!?  Oh yeah... lived through a lifetime of Cubbies losses.

Kicking it old-skool SF "beatnik" this evening:

Specs' 12 Adler Place Museum Cafe
 
I guess cheese & crackers and cocktail olives give it "cafe" status?

Be sure to drop by for some cheap red wine and Benzedrine.

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

A-10 Redux

28.Feb.2013

Only this: There is a warthog at the Oakland Zoo.


Tonight - The Homestead


See also this warthog.



bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Hi Everybody!

21.Feb.2013

"Go Cubs!  (I have that license plate frame too!)"  I mouthed the first thing to a lady in the Trader Joe's car park the other day as I walked to my Jeep.  As we were going the same way after leaving the lot,  it occurred to me that she might see me in her mirror and think I wanted to talk more about (our) favorite team.  I didn't; I just wanted the direct route home, and it seemed it was her route to her destination too. 

I don't like being thought of as a stalker.  Ever.  Not in any regard.

So after I dropped Ez off at school and spun up "Master of Puppets" for my ride home, I saw that Internet-famous car with the M-ETALLIC-A license plate ... I did NOT roll down my window and say, "Ride the Lightning, Bro!!"


Tonight - House of Shields.

Peace out!

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Thank you very much!

14.Feb.2013

Ez and I pulled into the lot at the ice rink at our normal time last week.  We get there just after 1 pm to eat our burritos and watch the pick-up hockey game.  The hockey players are the only cars (SUVs) in the lot and take up all the spaces near the entrance.  And since both Ez and I have legs, we don't mind parking a row or so back and WALKING to the front door.

As I rolled past the parked cars, I noticed there was a parking space nearish the front that had been coned-off.  There wasn't a gaping hole or anything that I could see, just some gravel on the ground in the spot.  Whatever!  Someone had coned it off and that was good enough for me.

So we did our normal Thursday skating.  And dang but our burritos were good!  It's time to go when Ez finishes his lesson and the rink fills up with both public skaters and those taking group lessons, which start at 4p.  When it was time, we unlaced our skates, packed up and went to the parking lot. 

Walking to our Jeep, I noticed the coned-off spot was still vacant (except for the cones) but as I watched, a black SUV pulled up and a short, round woman popped out, slyly looked around and moved the cones.  Looking all around her, she got back in her SUV and pulled into the now unconed spot.  I shook my head in disgust.

I'm sure that scenes like this are repeated over and over, all day, every day and everywhere.  People think they know better than, well, anyone else about, well, everything else.  Like whether a parking space near the front needed to be coned off or not, or if it was okay to park in.

I waited a tic and watched her unload her little round skaters.  She continued to look around to make sure she got away with it.  I watched just long enough to note that a Karmic 500 Ton weight did not fall from the sky and land on her, her little round skaters and her black SUV ... right smack on the spot the two little cones had been restricting almost everyone else from parking in.

Damn.

Tonight - Club Deluxe.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Ethnic-y Jazz

7.Feb.2013

Take care that you understand the shopping list yr little wife hands you when you tell her you will stop at the "What Me Woori" (Asian) grocery store on the way home.

Kim chi:  Chi Check
Sushi:  Shi Check
Soy Sauce:  Check
Black Bean Paste:  Hard to find, but Check.
Buns from the bakery:  Check.

Yeah.  The last two items were supposed to be one item:  Black bean paste buns from the bakery.

What are we going to do with 500 grams of fermented black bean paste?

I got an item for myself.

I'll let you know what it is and how it is.


Tonight - Latin American Club
(Who doesn't like a good piñata?)


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Victory at Sea

1.31.2013

It's a drag to ever be in the position of needing TicketMaster's services, but I found myself there recently.  I had to get ticketed for the annual Spring Training trip!  Yay!

It seemed that the three transactio s I made went through just fine:  I waded through their webstie, got confirmatio  email spam and shortly thereafter, got tickets in the mail ... some of them.  My "Cubs @ Indians" never made it.

So I waited the requisite 10-12 business days and still no tix.  I waited a few more.  Nothing.  I dreaded what I had to do:  Phone TicketMaster customer service.  It did not go well.  It started off rocky and then got stupid.

The guy got on and asked my name.  I told him.  He asked my order number.  I told him.  That info, one would think, would get me through.  Nope:  He asked the last four digits of the credit card I used.  "Why?" I asked.  "Isn't an order number unique enough?"  He gave some lame reason and I told him.

"I'm sorry, sir, that's not correct."

"What?" I said.

"That's not the number on the card used to purchase the tickets."

"What the Hell?  I used ONE card.  I made THREE purchases with it, got THREE emails and TWO sets of tickets.  How could you have a different number?  How could I have the order number and no the name on the order?  What's going on here??"

"I don't appreciate your attitude, sir."

"I don't appreciate this mystery, dude."

We went around this for a while and eventually found out that despite me inputting my card number, the system used an old card that hasn't been used in years and actually expires 2/13.  In hindsight, it was good to expose this, as I now know to make a payment on that card and delete it from the TicketMaster system.

Okay, I said it got weird.  Now that I was "identified," I was able to inquire where in fuck my Cubs @ Indians tickets were.  He said they would ship in 10-12 working days.  uh huh.  I said look at the calendar, ape, it's 17 business days.  He mumbled some "oh yeahs" and such and said


Tonight - The Homestead  
(special 5th Thursday-of-the-Month gathering!!) 


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

It stays crunchy, even in milk.

1.24.2013

My cat, Porkchop, is a big kitty.  She's not exactly fat, but she's kinda wide.  I asked her vet some time ago what, if anything, I could do beyond feeding her "old folks"-style kibble.  She said she had a big kitty too and she feeds her Fancy Feast®.  Fair enough.  "Sof Food" it is.

Choppy has been on Sof Food for some time now and I've detected her habit of eating:  Lick all the goo off the meaty bits and either come back for them later, or let them dry out.

Lately I've wondered if I can just buy cans of goo, as she clearly likes it best.  And wouldn't ya know:  I went to get food for her and beer for me and lo and behold, Fancy Feast@ Gravy Lovers!  Yes, it's lots of goo and only some bits.  It's fantastic!

The best part about it is that it doesn't stink as bad as the other stuff.


Tonight - Iron and Gold.


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Shut up, Eric!!!

1.3.2013

I watched the press conference today, live from Halas Hall, with the newly named Head Coach of the Chicago Bears, Marc Trestman.  Of course I watched it on the web.  I get a big kick out of having access to things that were well out of reach before the web.  It was geeky and the live scroll of comments from even geekier Bears fans than me were funny:

Yes, Coach Trestman was rocking back and forth, really testing the width of the locked-down HD camera.  And yes, his hair is really strange-looking.  But if he improves my beloved team?  He could spin like a Whirling Dervish with a raccoon on his bean for all I care.

The press conference got me wanting to see Bears football again.  Now.  But they've got a lot of work to do and it's gonna take some time.


And we have a whole (shortened) NHL season to get through first.  AND nearly a whole MLB season, plus Spring Training!

Regarding Spring Training, several Lovely List Members and I trek annually to the desert Southwest to attend Cactus League Spring Training games.  This year we're going outside our comfort zone and seeing our favorite teams in parks and stadiums other than their home fields, in other words, "on the road."

Even though there's still 60+ days before the trip, we're ticketed and I've noticed something:  The ticket prices at stadiums that are NOT the Chicago Cubs' or the (World Champion) SF Giants are DIRT FRIKKIN' CHEAP!!  I'm talking 8 bucks, not 24.  I'll report back about the beer, hot dog and parking prices in 9 weeks, yo.

Go Cubs!

Tonight - Bloodhound
Cold weather and warm Whiskey!!

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!