I woke up this morning seriously pissed off. I didn’t really know why, but I figured after a nice cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal I would be good. Unfortunately, I was out of milk so no cereal, and I drank way too much coffee on an empty stomach so I was feeling queasy by the time I got to school for work. Things spiraled down from there as I had a new project waiting for me at work which pisses me off because I seem to be the only research assistant that actually does research. The rest just sit around doing their homework. So I stayed grumpy and became even more irritable as the day wore on.
Ugly Baby Exhibit A
By the time I got home around 5pm I was bristling with anger, and I told neverbesocial that if there was a baby in front of me I would punch it in the throat. (I have to clarify that statement, however, as most babies would probably melt my heart–like the sap I am–but I would have seriously thought about punching an ugly baby in the throat.) Be that as it may I kept getting more angry because I couldn’t figure out why I was so angry all day long. Then I took a look at my calendar and saw what day it was. Today is March 19th and it is–along with the 20th–the anniversary of the invasion of Iraq. I quickly realized that that was why I was pissed all day, even though I didn’t realize the significance of the day until after about 9 hours of being a real grinch. I guess my body is just on its own program.
Like I said everything started to make sense after that, but I ended up getting more pissed off because I was thinking about how I hate these wars and how I can’t wait for them to be over and for the troops to come home. I also was pissed at myself for being such a whiny complaining bitch because someone had the audacity to ask me to do my job, whilst there are other people over in Iraq and Afghanistan separated from their families performing a thankless arduous job. I decided that it was time to hit the gym and go for a run to burn off all of my anger. I went to the gym and really killed myself. Running whilst angry is great; anger is one of the best motivators out there. After a good two hours at the gym I was feeling really good and as I was walking home and just as I was getting ready to cross the street I noticed that there was like 3 cars at each stop sign waiting for me. I figured I’d be a nice guy and jog across the street so that these people could get on their way quicker. Bad idea. This is the first time something like this has ever happened to me. I took two steps and both legs cramped up and locked themselves in a bent position. I came crashing down in the middle of the street in absolute anguish. I managed to get up and hop to the sidewalk where I laid on the ground writhing for the next 5 minutes as cars drove by staring at me like I was a circus freak. To make matters worse some people on the other side of the street were walking by and had seen the whole thing and were laughing their asses off. Salt in the wound.
Last night I finally got to see Jimmy Eat World live in concert. After all these years of being a fan of them, and constantly missing out on their shows, I finally made one. First off I will always be grateful to neverbesocial for introducing me to Jimmy Eat World back in those halcyon Phoenix days. (Actually I have to thank him for introducing me to quite a few of my favorite bands. He has been a sort of musical Gandalf guiding me through the perilous path of new music. Although I still can’t stand Mates of State or Portugal the Man, but hey whatever I can’t be expected to like everything he does.) Anyways I got to the show earlier than I did for The Black Keys a few weeks ago, but despite that, there was still a huge line–over a block long–by the time I got there. The people at Terminal 5, however, kept the line moving quickly and I was able to get inside before I froze completely to death.
Once inside I went back up to my spot on the third floor railing, grabbed an empanada, a couple beers, and got ready for the show. I can’t tell you how excited I was for this show. I have been looking forward to seeing JEW for a long time now and the fact that my first concert was going to be the Clarity tour only added to my exhilaration–as Clarity is one of my all-time favorite albums. So I suffered through the opening act–they actually were not that bad, but I just didn’t feel like waiting any longer to see JEW. A little bit after 9:00 JEW came out to the rousing cheers of the crowd and commenced to playing Clarity in it’s entirety–including Goodbye Sky Harbor. It was a fantastic show and they sounded great, and considering this was their first show on the tour, I expect that as the tour rolls on they will tighten up their sound even more. After they finished playing Clarity they left so they could take part in the obligatory encore–bands really need to stop doing that as it’s pretty contrived–and then they came back out and played some of their b-sides and then finished off the show with Work, Pain, The Middle, and Sweetness. The crowd went absolutely ape-shit for Sweetness and it really is the best song to finish the show to as everyone left completely pumped after that song. Well there is not really much more for me to say that the pics and videos can’t say on their own. So enjoy the pics and videos. (By the way Jimmy Eat World if you all are upset about me posting these pics and videos online just twitter me to take it down. No need to release the hounds.)
Yesterday turned out to be quite the adventure. It was supposed to be just an easy night out on the town watching The Black Keys. I left my apartment and after a long train ride and a long walk I made it to Terminal 5 at about 7:30. As I stood in line waiting to get frisked I pulled out all the crap in my pockets so the process would go quicker. Of course I get frisked by a beast of a women (how come it’s socially ok for a female to frisk a male but not vice-versa?) who decided to take some liberties with her frisking by grabbing my ass a few times. Wtf is up with shit like this happening to me (if you are new refer to this post here)?
Immediately after that weirdness I went to the bar and started crushing beers like my life depended on it. I milled around for a bit and then decided that since I had my camera on me I would stake out a good spot upstairs to watch the show. I ended up on the third floor railing with a good view of the stage, and bonus I was spitting distance from the bar. My plan was to get nice and loaded during the opening bands and then to slow down or quit drinking once the Keys came on stage. As usually plans went awry and I kept pounding all night long. (I really think it was the last four Sierra Nevadas that did me in.) This was the third time I have seen them live and as always the show was epic. (No show will ever be as good as the first time I saw them in Cali at Brick by Brick just because of the extraordinary lengths I went through to go to that show, and because of the amount of laws–military and civilian–that I broke just by going to it.) Since I took a bunch of pictures and videos of the show I will let them speak for the epicness of the show instead of babbling on and on.
After the show I hooked myself up with a new t-shirt and I got it for $10 instead of the usual $20. I think that was because I was incredibly drunk and the dude who was running the counter just wanted to get rid of me. Once I left Terminal 5 it took me forever to get home as I was chatting on the phone and ended up walking a few miles past my subway stop, then I fell asleep on the E-train (again), and it wasn’t until after 4 that I ended up stumbling home. All in all it was a good night with all the mandatory ingredients for a good night: live music, beer, stumbling around NYC, and falling asleep on the train. Anytime that happens it is definitely good night. Pictures and videos (sorry they are a bit wobbly, I blame the beer) after the fold, enjoy.
Some things are just meant to be together, like peanut butter & jelly or peanut butter & chocolate (damn why is peanut butter so darn good). I have always been a big fan of drinking profusely and I have always been a big fan of history, and even though at times I have mixed the two, I have never actually thought of recording said conversations. So a big thank you to Sara for texting me to inform me of these skits, which combine two of my favorite things, and also fits in perfectly with the theme of this blog. This is just one more great combo in life that was meant to be. Maybe one of these days I’ll get my own episode and I’ll give them a drunken lecture on some random historical event (seriously Pacificus/Helvidius debates are still fresh in my mind and I could wax about it drunk no problem). Now enjoy Drunk History.
The other day I got a comment on this site from Emily who maintains her own blog at emlocke.com. So I went to check out her site, and she had this post about her earliest memories, and it got me thinking about my earliest memories. So here is the story of my earliest memory (I’m serious too, this is the absolute truth). It’s amazing how well my first memory fits in with the overriding concept for this blog.
I was between 3-4 years old at the time and it was a night like any other night: my mom was keeping dinner warm on the stove whilst we waited for my dad to get home from work so that we could eat together as a family. It was dark outside so it was fairly late, and my brother and I were running around the house wreaking havoc. I’m sure my brother, five years my senior, was probably torturing me. He loved messing with me as a kid, that is until I grew into my strength and shifted the balance of power between us.
Anyways my dad finally burst through the door, after a long day of work, and my brother and I ran over to say hello. I grabbed onto my dad’s knee and he plopped a kiss on my head and tussled my hair on the way over to the fridge. When he got to the fridge he pulled out a beer–either MGD or a German beer–and then pulled a mug out of the freezer. He then executed the most perfect pour ever. This pour is seriously burned into my brain. He emptied out the complete bottle of beer and I watched with anticipation as it filled the mug. The head on the beer rose and mushroomed slightly over the rim of the mug, without any spillage, and then stopped. It was a legendary pour. At that moment before he had a chance to take a triumphant swig the phone rang.
My dad placed the mug on the counter, and my eyes never left the mug, and walked over to answer the phone. It was something work related, because he started to walk back into his room for some paperwork. Mind you this was back in the day before cordless phones so we had one of those 100ft cables attached to the phone. So as he was untangling the cord and working his way to the back of the house I began to implement my plan. I walked into the bathroom and grabbed the stool that I used to brush my teeth and carried in into the kitchen. I can still remember how I struggled to carry the stool down the hallway into the kitchen. It was an indication of the herculean strength I would end up developing. My brother quickly figured out what I was doing and started to tell me no, and my mom was finishing up setting the table and also checking out the news on TV, so she never noticed what I was doing. I, meanwhile, placed the stool underneath the beer and began to climb up it. By this time my brother was hysterically laughing and trying to tell me no at the same time. It didn’t work as his laughing only encouraged me to continue.
Almost there.
As I reached the top of the stool I teetered, steadied myself, and then grabbed my prize (a bit reminiscent of Indy in the beginning of Raiders). I was careful not to spill it and proceeded to slowly climb down my stool sans the use of my hands. When I got to the bottom my brother was beside himself and was anxiously waiting to see how this would turn out. I remember taking that humongous mug and bringing it up to my mouth and drinking the whole entire mug in one shot. This, once again, presaged my later abilities to drink mass quantities of beer quickly. When I finished I stumbled over to the kitchen table and put the mug on the corner of the table.
My brother by this time was rolling on the ground laughing, and I ran into the living room and promptly fell down. I got up and ran around in circles, but I think I was trying to run in a straight line. After getting up and falling down a few more times I decided to stay on the ground. My dad came back and started to inquire where the hell his beer was. My brother was more than willing to turn state’s evidence and, in between laughing fits, he pointed to the empty mug on the kitchen table. My dad quickly realized what happened–it wasn’t hard I mean I was rolling around on the ground making noises (much like I do now when I get drunk)–and shook his head in disbelief. He poured himself a new beer, and then went over to the living room to help me up to the kitchen to eat dinner. I don’t believe I was ever punished for this, I guess my dad figured that my hangover would be punishment enough, and to this day they still are.
Well there you have it, that is my earliest memory. Stealing a beer from my dad at the tender age of 3. Since that day I have embarked on a life long love affair with beer. There have been many ups, and quite a few downs, but overall me and beer have made a good team. We have created plenty of great memories, and along the way we have lost even more. Thankfully my first memory of beer remains as intact today as it did when I was a kid.
On January 16, 1919 the 36th State ratified the 18th Amendment and Prohibition became the law of the land. The movement to prohibition was a long one and started in the 1780′s when physician Benjamin Rush warned of the dangers of alcohol. The real push towards prohibition began after the Second Great Awakening (1790-1840) with the rise of evangelical Protestantism. What a shock a bunch of religious zealots tried to stop other people from having fun because they were incapable of enjoying themselves. Although the reasons for the temperance movement–and eventually prohibition–were not entirely religious, those beliefs did play a pivotal role in pushing for the legislation. Anyways this evangelical movement spawned a plethora of temperance movements throughout the 19th Century. There was the Washingtonian Movement, the American Temperance Society, the Sons of Temperance, and later in the century the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union, and the Anti-Saloon League.
Although these movements preached temperance towards the end of the 19th Century they started to work towards a complete prohibition of alcohol. By 1919 the 18th Amendment was ratified and in 1920 the Volstead Act was passed to reinforce prohibition. The grand hope of prohibition was that by forcing people to stop drinking the country would enter a golden age of peace and prosperity. The truth was much different however:
Prohibition did not alleviate the problems of alcohol—instead it just exacerbated the problems. It created a black market where none had existed before, Americans drank stronger, more lethal alcohol, the purity of which was unregulated, the dosages higher, and violence and alcohol related deaths increased dramatically. Furthermore, criminal organizations were able to take advantage of this new market and rise to prominence. Their rise brought corruption into politics and law enforcement in many American cities…
Once Prohibition went into effect prohibitionists in America lauded the amendment and prophesied that a new and better day was beginning in America. One of those people was the minister Billy Sunday who proclaimed, “the reign of tears is over. The slums will soon be a memory. We will turn our prisons into factories and our jails into storehouses and corncribs. Men will walk upright now, women will smile, and the children will laugh. Hell will be forever for rent.” Unfortunately it was quite the opposite. Prostitution and gambling had always been a staple of organized crime; but once the Eighteenth Amendment took effect organized crime found a new and much more profitable industry. As a result of completely prohibiting alcohol the prohibitionists unwittingly created a vast market; bootlegging became the order of the day and with it came an increase in violence and corruption. Organized crime was able to take advantage of high demands by the populace; and by supplying liquor and beer to citizens of all social standings criminal organizations became rich and powerful. They were able to influence everyone from judges to politicians.
The last 24 hours have been a whirlwind for me. Yesterday was Evacuation Day and I had some friends in town so I went to go celebrate with them. I ended up meeting them at a TGI Fridays (because the girls were at some ballet show) in Midtown, and we commenced to drinking some beers. Nothing crazy just a few beers, some chicken wings, and a lot of bullshitting. Around 11 we got ready to leave and asked for out check. Holy shit did we get a surprise. I’ve been to quite a few bars in and around midtown and in Times Square but none of them were ever as expensive as this shitbag TGI Fridays. I’m used to paying 6 bucks a pint for any beer including Guinness. This place charged us over $8 for each of our coors lights, and our wings were outrageously priced at $15. Sure I guess I should have looked at the menu first, but you expect all TGI Fridays to be priced similarly. On top of that most of the nicer bars, and restaurants I have been to in the city have been way cheaper than this place. So if you live in the area or you’re going to visit the city DO NOT go to the TGI Fridays on 49th and 7th Ave across from the Winter Garden theater.
After getting fleeced at TGI Fridays I took the train back home, and when I got back to Queens I had a 40 minute wait for my bus so I decided to wait for the bus at my local neighborhood bar. I was planning on only having a couple beers whilst I was waiting for the bus, but I ended up staying there until closing time. So I stumbled out around 4:00 am and walked to the bus stop, and started to wait. It was brutally cold and I had to wait about fifteen minutes for the bus to come, and once I jumped on I promptly passed out. I awoke after 5:00 am, and I was over 100 streets past my stop. By the time I got home it was past 6:00 am, and I finally was able to pass out.
I didn’t rest long, however, as I got up at 11:00 so I could go get a new TV. I got up and even though I was tired I was excited and full of energy. I took the train to Best Buy and within an hour I was standing at the check out line with my new Samsung 40 inch HDTV. I was so excited to plug it in and see what I’ve been missing. So I carried my new tube down to the street, hailed a cab, and then started my trek home.
Once again we come to that time of year when there are a superfluous amount of pointless holidays. It seems like every religion has like 3 or 4 holidays and they are all mostly lame. Besides that, this is the time of year when people decide to be nice and generous for a few days or weeks out of the year. Personally I am of the opinion that this is the time of year to really gut out my assholeness, and not succumb to the pressure of being kind and generous. In all actuality it is easier to be an asshole at this time of year, because so many people are trying to be nice, for example:
“So dude are you excited for Christmas?”
“No? what am I five?”
“How can you not be excited for Christmas, it’s the most joyous time of year.”
After any stupid statement that is similar to the above you just reply with something like:
“Well I hate Christmas, because any meaning that it originally had is completely lost in our current society. Instead of a holiday that espouses thanks and goodwill to others it has degenerated into a holiday that is rife with selfishness. These desires of self have consumed…” Seriously just keep it going as long as possible, and watch their Christmas cheer turn into a major case of depression or they will just call you an asshole–either way you win. So what does any of this have to do with Evacuation Day, and what the fuck is evacuation day?
Like I stated above I’m not a big fan of these super commercialized holidays, but I’m a huge fan of the obscure and eclectic holidays of this country: Arbor Day, Flag Day, Constitution Day, and Groundhog’s Day (love the movie too). This year I am adding Evacuation day to my list of cool eclectic holidays in which to celebrate. So what is it? Well let me drop a little bit o’ history on you.
Gen'l Washington
In 1776 hostilities broke out between American colonists, and the British Empire. After the symbolic victories of Lexington and Concord the British dropped the hammer in New York, and over time sent the Continental Army into retreat. For the next seven years the British Army would occupy New York City (NY has the distinction of being the longest held American city). Over those seven years NYC was decimated by fire, and British need. All trees were cut down, and most other wood–fences, walls, etc–were used for fuel. The British also let the city fall into complete disrepair. On top of all of this NYC became the central holding area for American POW’s and it is estimated that over 10,000 American soldiers died while being held on the floating prisons on the East River. Continue reading
Via Ball Hype. Check out this dude that passed out during the second game of the Mets, Braves double header. Reminds me of that Dave Chappelle skit where he talks about how you don’t ever want to pass out around white people because they will do all kinds of fucked up shit to you while you’re passed out. Check it.
Ok so I’m drunk, but I just randomly hooked up with this chica that told me I have an accent of a “super white boy.” Well that is the first time someone has ever told me that before. She acted like being a New Yorker was akin to being God’s gift to the Earth, and that I wasn’t a true New Yorker. Funny that even though I wasn’t a “real New Yorker” she enjoyed the fruit of my looms haha. Whatever I really don’t care I just find the hypocrisy he-fucking-larious. She can pretend what she wants, but in truth she knows that she wanted the kilbasa, and if I was a bit sluttier I could’ve bent her over a stool and fucked the shit out of her–literally.
