One of my successes in life was getting a couple of new food reviews on McSweenys.net. I’ve never attempted a list, but that’s the preferred form by people like my old high school and college chum Seth of Seattlest. So one night, while up late (and more than a little tipsy) watching Sam Peckinpah work his magic, I worked on the following, and have sat on it for a two weeks, because the drunker the effort the more distance you need from an editing standpoint:
A dozen reasons The Wild Bunch is the bestest thing ever created by anyone, coked-up or otherwise:
- 12. Saving Private Ryan feels like high tea at Victoria’s Empress Hotel compared to Peckinpah’s opening.
Crazy Lee. Modern Libertarianism.Machetes.
- 10. Ernest Borgnine.
Washers. Steel washers.“We’re after men.”
- 8. The cryptofascism isn’t latent at all.
- 6. Angel.
- 5. “If they ever got armed, with good leaders, this country will go up in smoke.”
“No quiero vivo.” “Deme lo. Deme lo.”Mate lo.
- 3. Theresa.
- 2. Proto-Nazi Germans in revolutionary Mexico.
- 1. Wine showers with chubby country girls!
I wrote the whole thing down on a manilla envelope with a sharpie marker, and kept thinking up new ideas throughout. I thought the strikethroughs would be a sweet meta-thingie. I’ll update y’all on progress. I’m hoping Mr. List, Seth Kolloen, can maybe juice me a contact.
Update: It sucks. This is why I have these things peer-reviewed.
So as much as I wanted to hit up the Future Primitive Sound record release party for Romanowski at The Indpendent, I had to go see my roommate Bayete perform live at Blake’s in Berkeley. I’d been remiss in attending his shows.
It was also a good chance to hang with Hank, pictured here playing pool with me. I hadn’t seen him in a bit, considering he was in Miami, New York and L.A. “blowing up” as they say. It was awesome to hear that he’d sold nearly a dozen pieces. Shane, who I hadn’t seen in too long, also came through. She’s got a new studio and is building up a body of new work to show around. Look out.
Bayete rocked the mic along with Kool Kyle and Marversal as the MCs for Inspector Double Negative and the Equal Positives. Adam held it down on software synth, while Nando rocked the bass. I haven’t met the drummer — leave your name in the comments, bro!
Another player we forgot to mention — the accordionist! That’s right. Where else but the East Bay would a song called “Go, DJ, Go” require the services of an accordionist? Cajun flavor!
Marlon locating the coordinates of the afterparty with his communicator.
And on that note we leave you. Doesn’t Bayete in front of that Oakland bungalow look like he stepped out of a Walter Moseley novel? Pin striped, three piece suits are the new black in ought five, bitches.
My old buddy from High School was in town, staying on the University of Wiconsin’s dime, no less! I took him out for a slice of Arinell pizza and a pitcher of Anchor Steam at the Zeitgest. Here he is chatting with his sister in Seattle on the phone. I love framing people with the pink elephants.
It was good to see another Bulldog, especially another one on his way to an advanced degree. We’re some smart motherfuckers.
Hopefully a recurring feature of absolutely self-absorbed gloating that no one can confirm to be reality.
On the inauguration Daily Show, Steven Colbert was playing up the Roman orgy aspect to the administrations festivities. I thought to myself, “Guccione’s Caligula.” Guess what movie they played a clip from…
And trust me, the clip they used wasn’t as tame as the one I found on Google images.
It was a night out with the roomies at the DNA Lounge — the star draw being Ultramagnetic MC Kool Keith, AKA Doctor Octagon. Tanya and I kept an eye on our roommate Chester’s merchandise table in exchange for some comps.
It was all to support Chester, frontman for Dopestyles, who can be seen here rocking the mic with what I think they call ‘authority.’ This was his big chance to redeem himself after stripping down to his draws the last time he opened for Kool Keith at DNA Lounge.
While we could use a new camera, we’re kinda happy about all the long-exposure goodness we get in dark rooms. The lame shadow depth, noise and crappy optics is what we could do without.
While Chester was in the VIP lounge eating fried chicken with Keith and Motion Man, we were accosted by a rather tipsy femme who asked to take our picture. We are not known for turning down requests by tipsy femmes.
Said tipsy femme then stormed the stage and danced during Kool Keith’s introduction.
How do we get a job as a “drunk white girl wrangler?” Because seriously, it’s now our career goal.
Shortly after taking this photograph of Kool Keith (who we’re a little miffed was in old-school hip-hop mode instead of Dead Elvis, Lost In Space mode) we went upstairs to clear some room on the memory card. We were asked to remove the camera from the establishment, even though when we went in we were specifically told that cameras were permitted. I guess the management and artists would rather pay for their publicity.
And that, my friends, is a bag of Farolito’s, otherwise known as the perfect end to a fine evening.
Figured the best way to find the Billionaires for Bush was to dress the part. I need a new suit, though, and a bolo tie would have really completed the look.
My friend Rybo comped this up for me today. Just in time…
Last night I accompanied a pub crawl in honor or Matt M.’s 21st birthday. Matt knows a crapload more about blogging than I do, but I sure as hell know more about drinking. I’ve got ten drunk years under my belt. So Matt, I offer these tips as my gift to you. Some of these rely on science, others are more in the realm of old wives tales. Use them well.
- Don’t drink on an empty stomach, unless you want to get drunk really fast and don’t mind having a terrible hangover. An optimal preparatory meal will involve large amounts of red meat, grease and starch and not a lot of vegetables. If you’re in a rush, or a really incorrigible alcoholic, you can settle your stomach for a night out with a milkshake. Really.
- Don’t mix grain and grape! This tip was given to my by my Russian friend Alex years ago when I lived in Manhattan. I’ve determined that the scientific reason behind this is because grain-based alcohols (beer, sake, vodka, gin, bourbon, whiskey) have an ethanol molecule derived from maltose sugars, whereas grape based alcohols (wine, brandy, cognac, fruit ciders) are created when yeast metabolizes fructose. You’re liver isn’t very smart, so keep things simple for it.
- The corollary to that rule is that you don’t want frilly drinks mixed with lots of stuff. Screwdrivers are vodka and orange juice — but your liver sees maltose ethanols and a bunch of fructose. Besides, you’re a man now, Matt. Men drink Martinis and bourbon on the rocks. When in doubt, order a beer. Wine coolers and Alabama Slammers should no longer pass your lips.
- I always felt “Don’t drink and drive” was too restrictive. Freedom is all about having choices! “Don’t drink or drive,” I feel, is much better. That’s why I have no car, and prefer to drink within stumbling distance of my home. If you don’t go out drinking in your car, the chances you’ll drive it home drunk are much reduced. The Muni Owl service runs until four.
- If you get bored with being drunk, weed is good, cocaine is bad. With weed, you’ll drink less in the long run. With cocaine you’ll drink much, much more and you’ll compound your hangover with wicked depression and a post-nasal drip. Plus most pot offenses in California can be settled by a fine, whereas you don’t need to be in possession of much cocaine to qualify for a felony.
- MJK offered her tip last night: “If you don’t want to get too drunk, leave your drink about three-quarters full, so no one will buy you another drink.” Sage advice, MJ, but why wouldn’t one want to get too drunk?
- Don’t pass out if you can avoid it. Your pre-sleep regimen should involve copious amounts of a water, a hot meal, and an aspirin. You should keep water by your bed so you can continue hydrating through the night. Alcohol is a vicious diuretic, and most of your hangover is dehydration.
- The best hangover cure is spicy soup. I’m particular to Vietnamese Pho and Mexican Posole. The stock will hydrate, and the chilis will help you sweat out the worst of the ethanol metabolites. Coffee, another diuretic, is not a great idea, unless you’re just desperately tired. Gatorade is more like it. I also enjoy an alka-seltzer — gets rid of the post-drinking burrito heartburn and a little of the headache in one fizzy shot.
Now I know that there’s a million others out there, but these tips have stood me in good stead. If you have any further suggestions for a young drinker, offer them up in the comments.