Behind Enemy Lines

This is how we do, kick back after a long day and put on your man dress, or dishdasha. I am looking for a mini skirt version, maybe a little black cocktail number for special occasions. With my homies A.G. and A.R. in full effect.

WE RESPECT A DIVERSITY OF TACTICS

Because this is EV and not the Federalist Papers or Workers World Daily, I thought I would include this to make a compelling argument against, (maybe for, whatever blows your skirt up,) the OWS phenom. I mean, you can hate on FOX news all you want, but do folks have to make it so easy? Ha. Forward this around to all your right wing parents friends, it will help with confirmation of their world view. I will reserve my more sober coverage for the pages of the grey lady.

INSIDE THE SACHS MIND

Jizza has been working hard, coming up for his show in the big

shitty. It was crazy crashing in his room for a month. It was like

hanging out looking at the inside of his skull before you went to

sleep each night in his crusty sheets.

Beachcombers

Wow. Imagine one of these bastards tumbling along Cherry Grove.

This one might be full screen worthy. Dreams are free motherfucker.

The Beests...

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."