have a take, don't suck
dear rome,
kitchen? I've never been in one of those.
sincerely,
calista flockhart
dear rome,
kitchen? I've never been in one of those.
sincerely,
calista flockhart
1.29.2003
solid proof that houston sports radio does suck...
the homer that is marc vandermeer was having an on-air orgasm over the 'cnn report' that the olson twins are set to enroll at a&m in the fall. the austin sport jocks were able to pick up on this hoax on monday. that was TWO days ago. I saw the link, and my bullshit detector went off immediatelly. anyone with a fraction of common sense would be suspicious when a major news organization would claim that a&m had a great academic reputation and an 'excellent' b-school. I just wish that my box wouldn't freeze up everytime I try to stream 1300am from austin. and people wonder why I listen to the rap station so much.
if the twins actually attended a&m (likely story) they sure wouldn't have to worry about guys bothering them with all the sheep cloning going on in b-cs.
anywho, after having had to suffer through that retched experience I felt that I had to get some good jungle karma. I must say that today's epic office kitchen copier rant hit home. it prompted me to send in my take. for those of you who haven't had the pleasure or the testicular fortitude to send in a take here is what you get if the webmonkey reads it, meaning that it could end up being read on-air. I should be so lucky.
Dear Clone,
Just dropping you a note to let you know that the show received your email. Thanks for participating. As always, the contribution and the support are appreciated. Thanks again, and keep those emails coming.
your humble servant,
ignatius
the homer that is marc vandermeer was having an on-air orgasm over the 'cnn report' that the olson twins are set to enroll at a&m in the fall. the austin sport jocks were able to pick up on this hoax on monday. that was TWO days ago. I saw the link, and my bullshit detector went off immediatelly. anyone with a fraction of common sense would be suspicious when a major news organization would claim that a&m had a great academic reputation and an 'excellent' b-school. I just wish that my box wouldn't freeze up everytime I try to stream 1300am from austin. and people wonder why I listen to the rap station so much.
if the twins actually attended a&m (likely story) they sure wouldn't have to worry about guys bothering them with all the sheep cloning going on in b-cs.
anywho, after having had to suffer through that retched experience I felt that I had to get some good jungle karma. I must say that today's epic office kitchen copier rant hit home. it prompted me to send in my take. for those of you who haven't had the pleasure or the testicular fortitude to send in a take here is what you get if the webmonkey reads it, meaning that it could end up being read on-air. I should be so lucky.
Dear Clone,
Just dropping you a note to let you know that the show received your email. Thanks for participating. As always, the contribution and the support are appreciated. Thanks again, and keep those emails coming.
your humble servant,
ignatius
1.28.2003
1.27.2003
it's official: today sucked
we lose two comitts, another blue chipper eliminated us from the picture. kansas.
how do you spell relief? b-e-e-r.
tomorrow is going to kickass,
concert goer
we lose two comitts, another blue chipper eliminated us from the picture. kansas.
how do you spell relief? b-e-e-r.
tomorrow is going to kickass,
concert goer
shania vs. gwen...
as if you had to really ask...shania by a landslide. who knew she was a raiderfan? she was dressed like one. talk about a crazy darth vader type outfit. I've been hearing a lot of hate thrown her way in the jungle, and I felt I had to represent for such a hottie. how about instead of focusing on ms. shania vanilli we instead focus on the assheads of her pop-country band. as michael bolton would say 'assclowns'. one of those dipshits was playing a keyboard with a guitar strap circa 1980s.
best rome takes on the subject so far:
shania twain sounded great live. signed, britney spears and milli vanilli errr...just milli
dear rome, someone should have told shania twain that the forecast was 80 degrees. signed, vincent sack
as if you had to really ask...shania by a landslide. who knew she was a raiderfan? she was dressed like one. talk about a crazy darth vader type outfit. I've been hearing a lot of hate thrown her way in the jungle, and I felt I had to represent for such a hottie. how about instead of focusing on ms. shania vanilli we instead focus on the assheads of her pop-country band. as michael bolton would say 'assclowns'. one of those dipshits was playing a keyboard with a guitar strap circa 1980s.
best rome takes on the subject so far:
shania twain sounded great live. signed, britney spears and milli vanilli errr...just milli
dear rome, someone should have told shania twain that the forecast was 80 degrees. signed, vincent sack
1.26.2003
roughly a year from now...
the superbowl comes to the bayou city. mark my words: I will be attending both the maxim and the playboy superbowl parties.
I have sproken,
stanstradamous
the superbowl comes to the bayou city. mark my words: I will be attending both the maxim and the playboy superbowl parties.
I have sproken,
stanstradamous
1.23.2003
I'm so cash money and I don't even know it...
someone told me today that it is recommended that clothes brought home from the dry cleaner should not be stored in the bags once you hang them up in your closet. apparently, it prevents the remaining residue from the chemicals from fully dissipating. I ran this by my dad, he's in the oil industry so he knows all about petroleum distillates (i.e. dry cleaning chemicals), and he confirmed it. great, perhaps that could explain my insomnia and that rash on my elbow. I kid I kid, I don't have a rash.
so I went on a liberating rampage and I released all my clothes from their clear plastic bag shackles. during the process I found this little worn shirt that my dad had brought me from a trip 3 years ago or so. the label reads "burberry's of london". so I've been preaching the ghetto life without knowing that I had an essential staple of their attire in my very own closet. sweet action! as gagel would say. now paired with nathan's pimped out gucci 'sewuit' all we would need is the gator boots to complete the ensemble. and we will finally truly be 'hood rich'.
are you my caucasian?
krazee-eyez killa
someone told me today that it is recommended that clothes brought home from the dry cleaner should not be stored in the bags once you hang them up in your closet. apparently, it prevents the remaining residue from the chemicals from fully dissipating. I ran this by my dad, he's in the oil industry so he knows all about petroleum distillates (i.e. dry cleaning chemicals), and he confirmed it. great, perhaps that could explain my insomnia and that rash on my elbow. I kid I kid, I don't have a rash.
so I went on a liberating rampage and I released all my clothes from their clear plastic bag shackles. during the process I found this little worn shirt that my dad had brought me from a trip 3 years ago or so. the label reads "burberry's of london". so I've been preaching the ghetto life without knowing that I had an essential staple of their attire in my very own closet. sweet action! as gagel would say. now paired with nathan's pimped out gucci 'sewuit' all we would need is the gator boots to complete the ensemble. and we will finally truly be 'hood rich'.
are you my caucasian?
krazee-eyez killa
1.22.2003
more tales of girls with whom I didn't make out with...
when faced with having to make a choice between girls or friends, I will choose girls every time. this is further proof that girls make me more lonely.
so I separated from my friend for a few minutes to venture out with this lovely lady in cali. I first saw her inside this pub while jd and I sat in the smokers' porch waiting for him to finish off another cancer stick. I commented at length about wanting to make out with her, wanting to lay my hands upon her silky sexy ass, etc., but grew incredibly embarassed when I realized the sliding glass door was open and she could probably hear everything we were saying.
a few minutes later, jd mentions something about that girl possibly being at this other club two doors down later that night. stranded in cali with nothing better to do, I agreed to step out of my element (I'm so not the boom-boom club type, unless I'm going with a femme) venture to that club and by chance, we were correct.
I don't know what prompted me to do this, but I told her about what I said in the porch. she hadn't heard me then, so I finally got to own the embarassment that I thought I picked up at le pub. for some reason, she kept talking to me. I guess she dug the fact that I was from texas. or perhaps she's one of those sexy loners who doesn't get out much. she was only there with another girlfriend, who was furiously grind dancing with some cheesedick.
jd signaled that he had succesfully gained entrance to the vip area and was waving me over. I wanted to talk to her some more. I'd feel bad about skipping out on a friend, but I didn't want to pass up a second opportunity to talk to this girl. it's not very often that one gets to redeem himself for not talking to a particular attractive girl that he sees at a pub. my friend was talking to another skirt, so everything seemed cool
so it was a little awkward at first as it normally is when I meet people that I've never spoken to before. thankfully, we got over it. the conversation was progressing nicely and the dj was spinning some great tunes. my friend keep waving me over. I had the nagging sensation that he needed me to run interference for him and I simply could not find it in my heart to ignore him.
I told her I had to cut our conversation short. she said she enjoyed it, and seeing that as a good signal I scrawled my friend's local number on a matchbook. I told her we were going to the afc championship game in two days and she was invited to come. unfortunately, there was no making out involved in any of this.
it's really too bad that she lives so far away. I'd be stalking her like a motherfucker if she lived in h-town. she's fun and cute and didn't seem incredibly repulsed by me. there aren't many girls like this.
I had to leave abruptly so that I could rescue my friend from talking to this overbearring fat chick. that, my friends, is pathetic. he's the bethroed one, but he didn't have the heart to tell her that he was off the market.
she never called. but then again we had left the laptop online, and she didn't have any of our cellphones. so I guess I'll never know. I did, however, miss another call from a hs friend. her long winded message was refreshing, but it would have been NICE if she had left a number for me to call her back at. its all good. kkg: next time I'm in the area we are going out, and you can't get out of it.
cheers,
frequent traveler
when faced with having to make a choice between girls or friends, I will choose girls every time. this is further proof that girls make me more lonely.
so I separated from my friend for a few minutes to venture out with this lovely lady in cali. I first saw her inside this pub while jd and I sat in the smokers' porch waiting for him to finish off another cancer stick. I commented at length about wanting to make out with her, wanting to lay my hands upon her silky sexy ass, etc., but grew incredibly embarassed when I realized the sliding glass door was open and she could probably hear everything we were saying.
a few minutes later, jd mentions something about that girl possibly being at this other club two doors down later that night. stranded in cali with nothing better to do, I agreed to step out of my element (I'm so not the boom-boom club type, unless I'm going with a femme) venture to that club and by chance, we were correct.
I don't know what prompted me to do this, but I told her about what I said in the porch. she hadn't heard me then, so I finally got to own the embarassment that I thought I picked up at le pub. for some reason, she kept talking to me. I guess she dug the fact that I was from texas. or perhaps she's one of those sexy loners who doesn't get out much. she was only there with another girlfriend, who was furiously grind dancing with some cheesedick.
jd signaled that he had succesfully gained entrance to the vip area and was waving me over. I wanted to talk to her some more. I'd feel bad about skipping out on a friend, but I didn't want to pass up a second opportunity to talk to this girl. it's not very often that one gets to redeem himself for not talking to a particular attractive girl that he sees at a pub. my friend was talking to another skirt, so everything seemed cool
so it was a little awkward at first as it normally is when I meet people that I've never spoken to before. thankfully, we got over it. the conversation was progressing nicely and the dj was spinning some great tunes. my friend keep waving me over. I had the nagging sensation that he needed me to run interference for him and I simply could not find it in my heart to ignore him.
I told her I had to cut our conversation short. she said she enjoyed it, and seeing that as a good signal I scrawled my friend's local number on a matchbook. I told her we were going to the afc championship game in two days and she was invited to come. unfortunately, there was no making out involved in any of this.
it's really too bad that she lives so far away. I'd be stalking her like a motherfucker if she lived in h-town. she's fun and cute and didn't seem incredibly repulsed by me. there aren't many girls like this.
I had to leave abruptly so that I could rescue my friend from talking to this overbearring fat chick. that, my friends, is pathetic. he's the bethroed one, but he didn't have the heart to tell her that he was off the market.
she never called. but then again we had left the laptop online, and she didn't have any of our cellphones. so I guess I'll never know. I did, however, miss another call from a hs friend. her long winded message was refreshing, but it would have been NICE if she had left a number for me to call her back at. its all good. kkg: next time I'm in the area we are going out, and you can't get out of it.
cheers,
frequent traveler
1.21.2003
my trip in photogs...
stanford's
fine restaurant, and a fine school. I think they are trying to cash in on the school's excellent reputation. the bar stocked kettel one and the drinks were strong, so they might as well have called it blinn's and served me an old boot on a plate for all I cared at that point. here's hoping that when I get to palo alto the femme's will be as suculent as their steaks. for all I saw was granola girls gallore this time around.
chinatown
you would think that I'd be able to find some fugu here. but reading the labels, and the neon signs reminded me that I was in the wrong panasian towndom. in a momentary lapse of reason I thought I was in japantown. when I finally came to I was being chased down the street by a mad butcher wielding a cleaver.
eureka
our search for some china lovin' didn't go as succesfully as planned. determined not to go home empty handed I resolved to ask the locals for some help in procurring some bearded taco meat. through a series of hand gestures and reenactments of 'full metal jacket' I was pointed to this window. look closely.
they are everywhere
welcome to san francisco: home of the nation's largest concentration of limp-wristed males and...bent straws. 'but stan! what about lesbians you ask?' well that just happens to be wherever the latest lpga tour stop happens to be.
alcatraz
a serene view of the former home of the most incorrigible criminals of our nation's past, before being consumed in the vortex of stan.
b206
'scarface' capone's home for 4 years before the effect of syphillis forced him into the hospital for another 6.
extreme photography
I took this photog half hanging off a precipice. I'd have to say that my efforts did not go to waste.
serenade
here I was sitting on a bench in ghirardelli square drinking some hot chocolate and writting a few postcards. such a beautiful scene, yet I felt that something was missing...
life on the road
I cannot go anywhere without my gadgets. here I was staying atop the latest ongoings with my horns, and trying to see if a bay area bar was going to air the texas vs. a&m basketball game. to the right you see the stack of postcards I purchased in tucson but didnt' get a chance to write and send. then you see a pen and my 'to do list', followed by my pocket phone, the local fishwrap that I was using as a mouse pad, and some oj to help me fight off the sniffles I got for not wearing my jacket the night before.
enjoy,
stansel
stanford's
fine restaurant, and a fine school. I think they are trying to cash in on the school's excellent reputation. the bar stocked kettel one and the drinks were strong, so they might as well have called it blinn's and served me an old boot on a plate for all I cared at that point. here's hoping that when I get to palo alto the femme's will be as suculent as their steaks. for all I saw was granola girls gallore this time around.
chinatown
you would think that I'd be able to find some fugu here. but reading the labels, and the neon signs reminded me that I was in the wrong panasian towndom. in a momentary lapse of reason I thought I was in japantown. when I finally came to I was being chased down the street by a mad butcher wielding a cleaver.
eureka
our search for some china lovin' didn't go as succesfully as planned. determined not to go home empty handed I resolved to ask the locals for some help in procurring some bearded taco meat. through a series of hand gestures and reenactments of 'full metal jacket' I was pointed to this window. look closely.
they are everywhere
welcome to san francisco: home of the nation's largest concentration of limp-wristed males and...bent straws. 'but stan! what about lesbians you ask?' well that just happens to be wherever the latest lpga tour stop happens to be.
alcatraz
a serene view of the former home of the most incorrigible criminals of our nation's past, before being consumed in the vortex of stan.
b206
'scarface' capone's home for 4 years before the effect of syphillis forced him into the hospital for another 6.
extreme photography
I took this photog half hanging off a precipice. I'd have to say that my efforts did not go to waste.
serenade
here I was sitting on a bench in ghirardelli square drinking some hot chocolate and writting a few postcards. such a beautiful scene, yet I felt that something was missing...
life on the road
I cannot go anywhere without my gadgets. here I was staying atop the latest ongoings with my horns, and trying to see if a bay area bar was going to air the texas vs. a&m basketball game. to the right you see the stack of postcards I purchased in tucson but didnt' get a chance to write and send. then you see a pen and my 'to do list', followed by my pocket phone, the local fishwrap that I was using as a mouse pad, and some oj to help me fight off the sniffles I got for not wearing my jacket the night before.
enjoy,
stansel
1.20.2003
I'm back...stories to follow in the coming days.
1.19.2003
...the more of the art, food, trips, and new ideas I experience the more sophisticated my tastes become. but also, the more detached I become. regular people listen to music while driving or showering. I look for one or two things -- something non-sucky and original, or non-discovered sounds and bands that aren't too mainstream. when eating a burger I look for an initial visual appeal, and then I try to differentiate between tastes as I chew on it. if I go through this ordeal when eating a simple burger, imagine me shopping for food when I'm cooking for others. luckily, I'm a fast shopper and now I know where everything I need is at the market.
it is for this reason that I feel a responsibility to lead people to the land of better music, foods, and overall greater appreciation of things. despite trends, their monetary constraints, etc.
to the girl I was talking to last night. I'm sorry for making fun of the white zinfandel you were sipping. its not like I was doing much better swilling my dude light (aka bud light). but you have to admit, paying 7 ducats for a glass of boxed wine rubbish is highway robbery.
cheers,
simon from 'american idol'
it is for this reason that I feel a responsibility to lead people to the land of better music, foods, and overall greater appreciation of things. despite trends, their monetary constraints, etc.
to the girl I was talking to last night. I'm sorry for making fun of the white zinfandel you were sipping. its not like I was doing much better swilling my dude light (aka bud light). but you have to admit, paying 7 ducats for a glass of boxed wine rubbish is highway robbery.
cheers,
simon from 'american idol'
where's my previous post? grrr, it was badass too
1.18.2003
greetings from s.f.
yup, still here. this is the first moment of tranquility I’ve had since I arrived…over a week ago. I’ve become quite the pro at getting around the bay area on the bart, the muni, and the cable cars. last night I convinced a driver to let me brake one. oh yeah, you don’t really “drive” them in the sense that there is no gas pedal to make them go. they simply maneuver this clamp that grips and let’s go of the cable that runs bellow street level. hence “cable car”.
still have yet to make it to noriega street to visit polyann’s ice cream parlor. but my culinary exploits have been burdainian none the less. yesterday alone I feasted on: clam chowder served in a sourdough bread bowl, an in-n-out burger, some ghiraldelli chocolate and some salt water taffy. what I have consumed in chinatown is a separate entry onto itself.
I have somehow managed to send my customary slew of postcards from the road. good thing, my friends…err stacy! were getting impatient. I also let the pier 39 sea lions serenade kate. It’s the least I could do for missing her birthday dinner.
you’ll be happy to know that I’ve managed to keep my ass flower intact. the sign above my &*$% shoot still clearly reads “exit only”
I miss you all…well maybe some of you,
spriteman
yup, still here. this is the first moment of tranquility I’ve had since I arrived…over a week ago. I’ve become quite the pro at getting around the bay area on the bart, the muni, and the cable cars. last night I convinced a driver to let me brake one. oh yeah, you don’t really “drive” them in the sense that there is no gas pedal to make them go. they simply maneuver this clamp that grips and let’s go of the cable that runs bellow street level. hence “cable car”.
still have yet to make it to noriega street to visit polyann’s ice cream parlor. but my culinary exploits have been burdainian none the less. yesterday alone I feasted on: clam chowder served in a sourdough bread bowl, an in-n-out burger, some ghiraldelli chocolate and some salt water taffy. what I have consumed in chinatown is a separate entry onto itself.
I have somehow managed to send my customary slew of postcards from the road. good thing, my friends…err stacy! were getting impatient. I also let the pier 39 sea lions serenade kate. It’s the least I could do for missing her birthday dinner.
you’ll be happy to know that I’ve managed to keep my ass flower intact. the sign above my &*$% shoot still clearly reads “exit only”
I miss you all…well maybe some of you,
spriteman
1.09.2003
1.08.2003
roadtrip
my friend just called, he got into a master's program. classes start on monday. in san francisco. guess who's going to be his co-pilot? that's right I'm leaving for nocal tomorrow night and I fly back sunday night.
life on the road kage,
jabbles
my friend just called, he got into a master's program. classes start on monday. in san francisco. guess who's going to be his co-pilot? that's right I'm leaving for nocal tomorrow night and I fly back sunday night.
life on the road kage,
jabbles
recent calls
10. kate
9. fair maidden kelley
8. ryno
7. rachel
6. n-doe
5. nayzzan
4. a-rod
3. ali b.
2. ali b.
1. office/voicemail
another riveting post brought to you by 'the max',
zachary morris
10. kate
9. fair maidden kelley
8. ryno
7. rachel
6. n-doe
5. nayzzan
4. a-rod
3. ali b.
2. ali b.
1. office/voicemail
another riveting post brought to you by 'the max',
zachary morris
finally...
act ii, scene one
since this year passed quicker than the road runner on crystal meth leading wyle e. coyote into a false cave opening, I wanted to savor the last day by doing something that didn't involve basking in the unhealthy cathode glow of my computer monitor so long my buttocks and chair affixed together permanently. nathan and I had been tossing some nye ideas for the past few weeks, but I didn't want to throw away the last hours of the 'dudes gone wild' year I had left standing around in some houston bar, ballroom, someone's house. I decided to invite laura along for the fun times, but I didn't want her to experience nye in the bayou city, because as you all know, this concrete little podunk town is all about fun times. nola it was.
we had arrived the night before, so as we sat in the living room talking to eem while everyone else was running around, I marveled at the fact that laura and I were both awake, dressed and showered before five on a day off. this truly was a holiday.
the first stop of the evening was at le atm where sir geoffrey needed to check his balance, and I need to pulse some money. these are the exciting things that exciting men do, and we, above all, are exciting men. and I mean that in the least homoerotic way possible.
after le atm incident, we boarded our cabs and made due course for the french quarter. as we passed through residential neighborhoods on esplanade (aka 'the back way'), it became clear to me that nola really isn't all that ghetto fabulous after all. the houses are nice and large for the most part. the town gets a bad reputation because the styles and construction are old. still, I can't explain the overabundance of jethros and jethrinas with so few teeth they can count them all without taking up an entire hand and belt buckles so large it looks like they're showing off the fact that they've just won the WWF heavyweight title. oh yeah, fsu was in town. in town for the sugar bowl.
dinner and nice and long. four hours to be exact. what does one do for four hours at a five star restaurant? you talk and you talk some more, and when you have nothing else to talk about, you move the bathroom. you would think that dropping 7 hunsky plus on a dinner would afford you the luxury of having 'your royal penis cleaned' and perhaps fellated ala coming to america. not so, in fact, not only did we NOT get that, we had to be forced into the world's smallest 5 person bathroom it was so small in there that when cradack and I went, thom actually kicked the door open which actually slapped burdett on the ass as he was relieving himself on the pisser. I literrally had to avoid this guy's piss ray to park myself in front of a stall. oh the humanity.
laura was going to order the shrimp victoria, but she ended up getting the chicken calzone as per my recomendation. turns out the shrimp victoria was the belle of the ball. everyone at the table wanted a piece of the action. I felt bad, so I let her eat most of mine. did I already mentioned that it was damn good? because it was phenomenal.
afterwards, we hailed a cab and went to the party. one of stacy's friend had rented out a bar, and drinks were flowing all night. a bartenders was wearing a longhorn hat and I, of course, had to give him props. we instantly became friends and soon enough my 'pal' status had me being the rum runner of the night. I was getting drinks left and right. what was a 15 minute process for mere mortals, only took me 6 or 9 seconds. the party was incredibly strange. before the ball dropped, everyone spontaneously started chanting 'show your tits! show your tits! show your tits!' shortly thereafter, the skirts took their tops off while dancing to gangsta rap, a girl became inconsolably hysterical on the back balcony, girls started making out and to match them. I kid, I kid it was pretty civil for the most part. I only wish I wasn't kidding about this: nathan totally kissed a guy (in fact, he's engaged...double whammy). well actually it happened much later, at a different venue, but I just as well might have taken place here. the only thing that was normal was that I got no makeout action when the clock struck midnight...from just one girl! it was many, I think. contrary to most years, I wasn't really upset about it. I was more concerned that the first thing that happened in the new year was that I not get popped in the head with a champagne cork and subsequently champagne. it didn't happen. I sincerely hope this is an omen.
what happened next is still a bit of a blurr to me. it might take a joint effort to piece it together. but you can look forward to tales of: people falling out of cabs, someone puking on the carousel bar and shutting the whole thing down, forgotten lucky dogs, forgotten money clips which were later found, and two lovebirds 'getting lost' in city park.
you know that's not forgotten? how we laid the wood to lsu later that morning...
35-20,
leroy williams
act ii, scene one
since this year passed quicker than the road runner on crystal meth leading wyle e. coyote into a false cave opening, I wanted to savor the last day by doing something that didn't involve basking in the unhealthy cathode glow of my computer monitor so long my buttocks and chair affixed together permanently. nathan and I had been tossing some nye ideas for the past few weeks, but I didn't want to throw away the last hours of the 'dudes gone wild' year I had left standing around in some houston bar, ballroom, someone's house. I decided to invite laura along for the fun times, but I didn't want her to experience nye in the bayou city, because as you all know, this concrete little podunk town is all about fun times. nola it was.
we had arrived the night before, so as we sat in the living room talking to eem while everyone else was running around, I marveled at the fact that laura and I were both awake, dressed and showered before five on a day off. this truly was a holiday.
the first stop of the evening was at le atm where sir geoffrey needed to check his balance, and I need to pulse some money. these are the exciting things that exciting men do, and we, above all, are exciting men. and I mean that in the least homoerotic way possible.
after le atm incident, we boarded our cabs and made due course for the french quarter. as we passed through residential neighborhoods on esplanade (aka 'the back way'), it became clear to me that nola really isn't all that ghetto fabulous after all. the houses are nice and large for the most part. the town gets a bad reputation because the styles and construction are old. still, I can't explain the overabundance of jethros and jethrinas with so few teeth they can count them all without taking up an entire hand and belt buckles so large it looks like they're showing off the fact that they've just won the WWF heavyweight title. oh yeah, fsu was in town. in town for the sugar bowl.
dinner and nice and long. four hours to be exact. what does one do for four hours at a five star restaurant? you talk and you talk some more, and when you have nothing else to talk about, you move the bathroom. you would think that dropping 7 hunsky plus on a dinner would afford you the luxury of having 'your royal penis cleaned' and perhaps fellated ala coming to america. not so, in fact, not only did we NOT get that, we had to be forced into the world's smallest 5 person bathroom it was so small in there that when cradack and I went, thom actually kicked the door open which actually slapped burdett on the ass as he was relieving himself on the pisser. I literrally had to avoid this guy's piss ray to park myself in front of a stall. oh the humanity.
laura was going to order the shrimp victoria, but she ended up getting the chicken calzone as per my recomendation. turns out the shrimp victoria was the belle of the ball. everyone at the table wanted a piece of the action. I felt bad, so I let her eat most of mine. did I already mentioned that it was damn good? because it was phenomenal.
afterwards, we hailed a cab and went to the party. one of stacy's friend had rented out a bar, and drinks were flowing all night. a bartenders was wearing a longhorn hat and I, of course, had to give him props. we instantly became friends and soon enough my 'pal' status had me being the rum runner of the night. I was getting drinks left and right. what was a 15 minute process for mere mortals, only took me 6 or 9 seconds. the party was incredibly strange. before the ball dropped, everyone spontaneously started chanting 'show your tits! show your tits! show your tits!' shortly thereafter, the skirts took their tops off while dancing to gangsta rap, a girl became inconsolably hysterical on the back balcony, girls started making out and to match them. I kid, I kid it was pretty civil for the most part. I only wish I wasn't kidding about this: nathan totally kissed a guy (in fact, he's engaged...double whammy). well actually it happened much later, at a different venue, but I just as well might have taken place here. the only thing that was normal was that I got no makeout action when the clock struck midnight...from just one girl! it was many, I think. contrary to most years, I wasn't really upset about it. I was more concerned that the first thing that happened in the new year was that I not get popped in the head with a champagne cork and subsequently champagne. it didn't happen. I sincerely hope this is an omen.
what happened next is still a bit of a blurr to me. it might take a joint effort to piece it together. but you can look forward to tales of: people falling out of cabs, someone puking on the carousel bar and shutting the whole thing down, forgotten lucky dogs, forgotten money clips which were later found, and two lovebirds 'getting lost' in city park.
you know that's not forgotten? how we laid the wood to lsu later that morning...
35-20,
leroy williams
1.07.2003
I saw avril lavigne's "I'm with you" video last night. first time. and I must say that punk chix have never done it for me. until avril. she is not just another. that whole 'margot tenenbaum' thing she does to her eyes makes my pants go crazy. she makes my palms sweaty and I can feel the earth's rotation when I see her.
and to think that I've been labeled as a 'blonde guy', I'm more complex than people give me credit for.
shania, alanis, avril...I [heart] canadian women, eh
doug mckenzie
and to think that I've been labeled as a 'blonde guy', I'm more complex than people give me credit for.
shania, alanis, avril...I [heart] canadian women, eh
doug mckenzie
1.06.2003
first impression
ok, this show would have been phenomenal had they chosen a more homely 'bachelor'. they should have picked someone like screetch powers, or the guy who played michael bolton in 'office space'. now, that is more of a reality concept. imagine seeing one of these gold diggers having to kiss someone they found physically repulsive. I'm still holding my breath for the chance of seeing some world class whoring displayed by these skirts. oh yeah, I also missed the part where they hot chicks were supposed to be. what was up with that oriental girl wearing those diva like glasses? whomever told her she looked good in them must have been high on crack cocaine. I know a couple of g's in the fifth ward who would pay top scrillah for some. well at least that sealed her first class ticket out of the show.
loc dawg
ok, this show would have been phenomenal had they chosen a more homely 'bachelor'. they should have picked someone like screetch powers, or the guy who played michael bolton in 'office space'. now, that is more of a reality concept. imagine seeing one of these gold diggers having to kiss someone they found physically repulsive. I'm still holding my breath for the chance of seeing some world class whoring displayed by these skirts. oh yeah, I also missed the part where they hot chicks were supposed to be. what was up with that oriental girl wearing those diva like glasses? whomever told her she looked good in them must have been high on crack cocaine. I know a couple of g's in the fifth ward who would pay top scrillah for some. well at least that sealed her first class ticket out of the show.
loc dawg
1.05.2003
joe millionaire...
just one day left before the greatest show in the history of television premiers.
sincerely,
juan bullionaire
'tell all of your friends that I have a net worth of 2.69 billion dollars, and after they fall in love with me we will show them my often overdrawn bank account'
-- friend who shall remain nameless
just one day left before the greatest show in the history of television premiers.
sincerely,
juan bullionaire
'tell all of your friends that I have a net worth of 2.69 billion dollars, and after they fall in love with me we will show them my often overdrawn bank account'
-- friend who shall remain nameless
1.04.2003
nola recapped fo' yo' ass...
act i, scene one
our flights were delayed due to the storm that pounded our neck of the woods. instead of arriving in the big easy at 10:10pm, we arrived sometime after midnight. ryno picked us up and took us straight to the quarter in the scuba stacy shuttle. change of plans mid-way, casino it was. and casino we got. laura won some money, in fact she more than doubled her initial bet. I, on the other hand, got cleaveland steamed by the man. hey, at least the buffet was good.
war old uga fan playing black chips like they were whites
war louis armstrong's statue
war the stuff magazine that I left in stacy's ride, never to be seen again
war avril
act i, scene two
we decided to walk to the quarter for a little change of scenery. right as we crossed canal st. the skies started to open up. we sought shelter in a parking lot, and we planned on waiting it out so we could have drinks at the carousel bar at the monteleone. not so. we ended up literally stumbling into this dive called jimani's. I can honestly say that I have now witnessed the strangest way of taking a tequila shot. not once, not twice, but about 6 or 9 times.
it involved the bar tenders, whom were later joined by some dumbass tourist, squirting the lime into their right eye, followed by drowing their left eye in hot sauce, not stupid enough for you yet? next they snorted the salt, and finally consumed the tequila. they wanted us to photo document they whole transaction, this guy even gave laura his digi for different angle takes. we should have just taken his camera and ran like forrest gump. instead we stuck around and got squirted with water and had to deal with fuckin' chris rock wanting to buy some riiiuuuuubs. actually it was cheese fries.
war 'I'm gonna gitcha suckah'
war the blue dog studio
war beignets
war royal street
on to the good stuff...
(to be continued)
act i, scene one
our flights were delayed due to the storm that pounded our neck of the woods. instead of arriving in the big easy at 10:10pm, we arrived sometime after midnight. ryno picked us up and took us straight to the quarter in the scuba stacy shuttle. change of plans mid-way, casino it was. and casino we got. laura won some money, in fact she more than doubled her initial bet. I, on the other hand, got cleaveland steamed by the man. hey, at least the buffet was good.
war old uga fan playing black chips like they were whites
war louis armstrong's statue
war the stuff magazine that I left in stacy's ride, never to be seen again
war avril
act i, scene two
we decided to walk to the quarter for a little change of scenery. right as we crossed canal st. the skies started to open up. we sought shelter in a parking lot, and we planned on waiting it out so we could have drinks at the carousel bar at the monteleone. not so. we ended up literally stumbling into this dive called jimani's. I can honestly say that I have now witnessed the strangest way of taking a tequila shot. not once, not twice, but about 6 or 9 times.
it involved the bar tenders, whom were later joined by some dumbass tourist, squirting the lime into their right eye, followed by drowing their left eye in hot sauce, not stupid enough for you yet? next they snorted the salt, and finally consumed the tequila. they wanted us to photo document they whole transaction, this guy even gave laura his digi for different angle takes. we should have just taken his camera and ran like forrest gump. instead we stuck around and got squirted with water and had to deal with fuckin' chris rock wanting to buy some riiiuuuuubs. actually it was cheese fries.
war 'I'm gonna gitcha suckah'
war the blue dog studio
war beignets
war royal street
on to the good stuff...
(to be continued)
for L.
anyone else not familiar with the 'blue dog'? I hope walking in the rain was worth it.
art aficionado
anyone else not familiar with the 'blue dog'? I hope walking in the rain was worth it.
art aficionado
batteries are charged...
and I'm good to go. back in h-town, and my services are already being requested here. shit, it hasn't even been 24hrs. since I touched down on my home soil. so anyway, I have to please many impatient souls with my recap. only problem is, I only remember about half of the stuff that happened. not to worry, with the help of the digi, stacy and co. I will hopefully be able to piece the events of the past few debaucharous days together.
here is a teaser:
war my bottle of water filled with grey goose
war finishing it before we boarded the plane
war 'tequila shots' at jimani's
war pulling a fred astaire on the streets of the french quarter
war getting home at 6:30am on the first night
war landry's (no, not that landry's) po' boys
war dinner at brennan's
war stag's leap
war $720.52 bill
war 'whorn bait'
war lucky dogs
war 35-20
war sugar bowl ducats for $10
war lance from n'sync
war dude passed out on the bathroom floor
war me stepping over him and giving him the hook 'em horns
I'm out,
kid red
and I'm good to go. back in h-town, and my services are already being requested here. shit, it hasn't even been 24hrs. since I touched down on my home soil. so anyway, I have to please many impatient souls with my recap. only problem is, I only remember about half of the stuff that happened. not to worry, with the help of the digi, stacy and co. I will hopefully be able to piece the events of the past few debaucharous days together.
here is a teaser:
war my bottle of water filled with grey goose
war finishing it before we boarded the plane
war 'tequila shots' at jimani's
war pulling a fred astaire on the streets of the french quarter
war getting home at 6:30am on the first night
war landry's (no, not that landry's) po' boys
war dinner at brennan's
war stag's leap
war $720.52 bill
war 'whorn bait'
war lucky dogs
war 35-20
war sugar bowl ducats for $10
war lance from n'sync
war dude passed out on the bathroom floor
war me stepping over him and giving him the hook 'em horns
I'm out,
kid red
1.02.2003
a sign of things to come...
while I didn't exactly run into britney again, I did however, came within two degrees of separation of her last night. we were consuming some beers outside of the uberdome laura spotted lance bass from n'sync. the reject astronaut boy agreed to take some photogs with the girls, and he also told me that he was rooting for the seminoles. I was pulling for the tits, because the tits always win.
still in nola, wish you were here,
ignatious
p.s. I could so kick lance's ass, he's a little weak nut, but cool nonetheless.
"dude, you might be able to mop the floor with him, but I bet he can outdance you" -- nathan
while I didn't exactly run into britney again, I did however, came within two degrees of separation of her last night. we were consuming some beers outside of the uberdome laura spotted lance bass from n'sync. the reject astronaut boy agreed to take some photogs with the girls, and he also told me that he was rooting for the seminoles. I was pulling for the tits, because the tits always win.
still in nola, wish you were here,
ignatious
p.s. I could so kick lance's ass, he's a little weak nut, but cool nonetheless.
"dude, you might be able to mop the floor with him, but I bet he can outdance you" -- nathan
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