CAREER OPPORTUNITIES

Living in the Bay Area it is apparent that there are two types of folks: the rich and those whose working lives serves in some manner to pamper the rich. If you aren't spending $200 on dinner for two, chances are you are filling up someone's water glass before the desert menu is circulated… or perhaps you are parking their luxury car. Which brings me to today's little gem. Vintage tags from the "dot com" days.

Many a EVer put beer on the table spending long rainy nights squishing in and out of leather interior. Hopefully folks will hook up some followup posts chronicling some of the misadventures. Such as the time when a local had enough of us poaching all the neighborhood parking—we were really good at our jobs, by the way—and jammed a dog turd under a door handle in retaliation. 

Or when we were opening a new restaurant at the Embarcadero and a friend of the owner rolled up in his BRAND NEW BMW, peeled off a $20 and asked that we take care of it. Some brain dead skate rat hopped in and started taking it around the block—which was mistake #1, when someone lays down a decent bill on the way in chances are there's more where that came from, so leave the car up front. After a couple minutes he wheels up to the curb complaining about the half a cup of tobacco juice that he spilled all over the dude's new interior.

The stories go on but get more sordid. More often than not it was "anything but work." 

Meanwhile, in Richmond....

Satan Since 2003 from carlos puga on Vimeo.

The Future

On the Next Flight to Russia

I saw this poster. I laughed.

Finish line

After a HELLACIOUS cross country trip in a three cylinder Ford we made it to Maine to pick up Darnel upon completion of the Appalachian Trail. What makes a man cram into a Sports Weasel and drive 3000 miles across country—friendship, boredom, reckless abandon, recently burned down house? All and none as far as I recall. Certainly wasn't for the beard and hairdon't.

Rude, Crude, & Brewed

Blaker's bottles her first home brew. This batch should be ready for consumption on the 24th. We are planning a bock for next time, but this time she appeased our west coast brethren and whipped up an IPA. Once this brewing process comes a little more natural and intuitive, Blakers intent is to make medicinal beers. I can hear her now, "Take 6 of these and call me in the morning". Whose gonna help us drink 'em?

Was that the random stripper in the basement show? I think I missed that one.

Victro had to ask. So yeah, there was a question as to whether or not the previous pic was from the night where a woman was so moved by the Mercury Birds that she stripped down and danced. I think it was the same night but I can't certify that.

But here's the image. Same band, same basement, what's the difference? This young woman had stumbled across the party, drank a lot of beer and, at Mr Jackson's urging—directed at everyone and no one—to "take your clothes off and get retarded," did just that. Just look at the happy faces. She really lit up the room. Well she and her boyfriend ended up staying for the entire show and then hung out at the house into the wee hours drinking beer. We never saw her again. I wonder where she is now?

A tale of two dongs!?

…sitting here with Seldomwright wondering about the veracity of the claim that the dongerator was first unearthed in my van on a cross-country-trip, with our model friend. History is a slippery subject. Was Chocolate Jelly Love the same implement that fell—it was taped to the ceiling—onto a certain friend with a commemorative Waffle House tattoo while his future wife was, well, in the act of, use your imagination? There's a "firm" memory of washing a similar—but possibly "caucasian?"—dong off after it had been moshed on at a show and used in a tasteless "Princess and the Pea" hoax at Morehead Ave.?

Any takers? Let's not cower in revisionist history here! Are we talking multiple dongs? Did Divide and Conquer—no pun intended—have a separate device on tour at some point? Have the myths merged?

You know it's forever, right? "…Barf"

Something from the archives. A little beer, a little whiskey, 473 top shelf action: True 'til deaf.