Wednesday, October 31, 2007
College Point Class Conflict Pub Crawl 2007 Update
You can read the preview of last year's adventure here, or see a Dan Meade Photoset of the tour itself here. Dan also posted a summary here. I've yet to finish writing mine.
There will be some important changes to the routes this year. First, the Point Bar and Grill has finally gone out of business after a long decline. I'm honored to have pissed in the venerable trough there less than a year before the bar went out of business. Our Uncle Len said that back in the 60s, College Point was known as a town of "barbershops and bars." The Point Bar and Grill was probably the only existing establishment whose roots reached back that far.
We also have two new establishments to work with this year:
- A. R.'s Tavern. Which actually has a website, and free wi-fi. Pre-opening photo here.
- Halligan's. Offers free breakfast at 8am, as well as a free first round to all Pepsi route drivers based at the College Point bottling plant. Was formerly J.R.'s, which had been shut down by the NYPD.
So here's a proposed route, which will start either at 8am or 8pm the day after Thanksgiving (or the day before Thanksgiving):
- Bellinger Family Homestead
- Pour House, 9th Ave at CP Blvd.
- A.R.'s Tavern, CP Blvd at 14th Rd.
- The Five Corners, 14th Ave at 15th Ave. and 127th St. The last German restaurant in town, which will probably go out of business soon. Have never eaten there.
- Metal/Sports bar at 14th Ave and 130th St. We had bet on having a fight here last year.
- Return to "downtown" CP for memorial viewing of Point Bar and Grill's remains, CP Blvd. at 15th Ave.
- Rob Roy Spirit's [sic], CP Blvd between 18th and 20th Aves
- Halligan's, CP Blvd at 23rd Ave (or, tour could start here with breakfast)
- The SPORTS GARDEN at 23rd Ave for 2nd annual grand finale--lasting past 3am.
Again, the rules are no cars and no weapons, which puts us at a distinct disadvantage in Queens but holds up well with juries.
WUMB's audio stream fucking sucks
Creating the Next American Psycho: "Sex offenders corralled for Halloween"
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Found note to self on Miyako Hotel (San Francisco) stationery , circa April 2007
Labels: attempted thought
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
MAGNUM with Prayer Hands
Elmer's BBQ, Tulsa
The Badwich: It be bad!
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
photos not yet posted include...
- NCBBQI, July 2006
- Vancouver, July 2006
- Wichita, Lawrence, and KC, June 2007
- Old Orchard Beach, August 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
JR's Barbeque, Culver City, CA
JR's in Culver City, which is surrounded by LA, was so good that I went back a second night and got the exact same entree again. Thin-sliced, well-smoked brisket, delightfully greasy beef hot links laden with garlic, and above average sides (dug the beans, potato salad, mac 'n cheese). Their meats may be "tender as a mother's love," but their mud-black and mud-thick hot sauce will sting your ass numb like daddy's belt.
Food shot below.
Brisket, Hot Links, and Hot Sauce
This is me unwrapping the hand soap
Ben's Chili Bowl
That reddish-orange stuff is the best western-style bbq dip I've tasted: perhaps half ketchup and half vinegar. Only the chicken gets it; the pork is average ketchupy stuff. The curly things are what hush puppies are supposed to look like. Greensboro, NC.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Dear Kendall area private security guards,
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Plastic Shitcam Returns from Pittsburgh
It's back--came in the mail yesterday. And the image above, which PSC took at the University of Miami this spring, has just been published in the Schmap Miami online tour guide.
However, I'm not sure why visitors to Miami would want to check out college campuses...unless they were selling textbooks...
Friday, October 19, 2007
Also, I wish that I:
- were eating fresh brownies with milk
- were not physically and mentally exhausted (feels like having a fever)
- spent less time in front of laptop screens trying to communicate with people I can't see
- had a functioning girlfriend
- were not a tourist in my own body and mind.
Body Splattered on Congress Street in Soulless Southie
Thursday, October 18, 2007
geography vs. everyone
fast forward to los angeles. the promise of the west looms large as soon as the plains end and the rockies begin. nothing but immemorably complex, reddish and rugged majesty until the clouds over the coast. descent, touchdown. the surface of the earth bears all the empty promise of ten years of useless dating. everything is designed to look filthy. gray and graying and sometimes grooved concrete is smeared over everything, across the surface, sideways, in columns, in curving linear shapes atop the columns. the grooves trap grit and oil and grime. chain stores everywhere; the only majesty to be found in the thousands of refinery lights atop fractioning towers and steam-spewing structures between long beach harbor and the road. car lots everywhere. land of in n out. a system of small cities designed for the automobile, whose flatness defies everything east. the promise of the west? nothing hasn't been fucked up.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Number of minutes watching TV news in LA hotel bar:
Number of stories about fatal auto wrecks: 5
Number of stories about sexual predators: 2
Number of stories about O. J. Simpson: 1
Monday, October 15, 2007
I can't believe
Labels: business travel
Sunday, October 14, 2007
I have republished all my drunk posts from Montreal below.
Revenge of Plastic Shitcam
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007
i'm going to lunch at victor's
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Labels: what i really think
bartenders and waitresses
Labels: business travel
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
it was the best of times...
Monday, October 08, 2007
The better version of softening twilight:
age of complacency
2. we go to trade school, work in our hometowns, and die
Sunday, October 07, 2007
On the American bourgeoisie:
Mr. Pritchard was a businessman, the president of a medium-sized corporation. He was never alone. His business was conducted by groups of men who worked alike, thought alike, and even looked alike. His lunches were with men like himself who joined together in clubs to so that no foreign element or idea could enter. His religious life was again his lodge and his church, both of which were screened and protected. One night a week he played poker with men so exactly like himself that the game was fairly even, and from this fact his group was convinced that they were very fine poker players. Wherever he went he was not one man but a unit in a corporation, a unit in a club, in a lodge, in a church, in a political party. His thoughts and ideas were never subjected to criticism since he willingly associated only with people like himself. He read a newspaper written by and for his group. The books that came into his house were chosen by a committee which deleted material that might irritate him. He hated foreign countries and foreigners because it was difficult to find his counterpart in them. He did not want to stand out from his group. He would like to have risen to the top of it and be admired by it; but it would not occur to him to leave it. At occasional stags where naked girls danced on the tables and sat in great glasses of wine, Mr. Pritchard howled with laughter and drank the wine, but five hundred Mr. Pritchards were there with him.
On the sexual imprisonment of the monogamous heterosexual male:
Her husband's beginning libido she had accepted and then gradually by faint but constant reluctance had first molded and then controlled and gradually strangled, so that his impulses for her became fewer and fewer until he himself believed that he was reaching an age when such things did not matter.
The highway to San Juan de la Cruz was a black-top road. In the twenties hundreds of miles of concrete highway had been laid down in California, and people had sat back and said, "There, that's permanent. That will last as long as the Roman roads and longer, because no grass can grow up through the concrete to break it." But it wasn't so. The rubber-shod trucks, the pounding automobiles, beat the concrete, and after a while the life went out of it and it began to crumble. Then a side broke off and a hole crushed through and a crack developed and a little ice in the winter spread the crack, so the resisting concrete could not stand the beating of rubber and broke down.
Then the county maintenance crews poured tar in the cracks to keep the water out, and that didn't work, and finally they capped the roads with an asphalt and gravel mixture. That did survive, because it offered no stern face to the pounding tires. It gave a little and came back a little. It softened in the summer and hardened in the winter. And gradually all the roads were capped with shining black that looked silver in the distance.
Friday, October 05, 2007
white man's burden 2007
drinking mate in uruguay instead of at my home office glass desk
to the to-do list
at least 2 albums of funk/jazz-rock with r-rated folk lyrics
Thursday, October 04, 2007
the most fucked up social life ever
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
fung wah in the superbourgeois
buscando un parking and a comet tail of whores
Monday, October 01, 2007
EXPIRED FILM UPDATE
Too bad I left Plastic Shitcam in Pittsburgh last week. It's coming back soon, though.
I also have a shot roll here that needs to be developed. It features an overturned tractor trailer in Terre Haute.
Labels: expired film