cheezborger
the pepsi coke fish chips is hilarious. next time i'm in chi-town the billy goat is getting gruffed and grubbed.
the grouch once called himself a simple man who liked pretty things. what an admirable thing to be it seems to me. living in brooklyn. working in advertising. tons of fun with a slender frame and few cases of wit. drink up.
the pepsi coke fish chips is hilarious. next time i'm in chi-town the billy goat is getting gruffed and grubbed.
last week my girlfriend, her friend and a friend of hers from out of town had dinner. we ate at asia sf, a trendy little spot in soma. this particular restaurant's niche is its wait-staff. aside from being wonderful cocktail waitresses, they are also dancers and men dressed as women. and these are not your average weekend drag-queens either. they are as the mc put so eloquently, "the five miracles of gender-bending science." and from what i saw, two of them were just that. professional tricksters. had i not been in a relationship and at a bar famous for something other than its transsexuals, i can assure i would have hit on two of these men with breasts. unknowingly of course. so every hour on the hour these waitresses put down their trays and climb up on the bar. they each dance to a song of their choice while being hollered at from a diversely sexual audience. the women in the crowd all seemed to be chatting about how these men had better waistlines and breasts than the actual women in the bar. which in my opinion was true. the gay men in the bar were also extremely riled up, which made me wonder if they are attracted to women as long as they are really men underneath it all. the dances/stripteases were intensely sexual and included throwing water on themselves and dancing among the audience. it was truly a sight to behold and lots of fun, i'd recommend it to anyone in the bay area of any sexual orientation. that being said, i have worked in restaurants for years and if i have learned anything, it is that you do not mess with the people who prepare your meals. while the waitresses were dancing, my girlfriend's amiga stole a full corona off the table next to us. this particular corona just happened to belong to the manager. what her motive was i don't know, nor does it matter, it was however seen by several bartenders. these bartenders then told the manager, the bus boys and of course the waitresses of the thievery which had taken place. first a bus boy came and asked us if we wanted desert, then a bartender asked us if we wanted desert, then a waitress asked us if we wanted desert, then three more people asked us if we wanted desert. six times we said, "no thanks." then low and behold they just happen to bring us the most opulent desert on the menu and they said it was on the house. while the other three in my party picked up their spoon and stuffed their face, i emphatically declined. as they were finishing up i turned to the bartender whose look said very clearly, "hey buddy, your girlfriend is eating the bus boy's cum." the moral of course being, don’t steal and tip well.
recently my good friend broke down my hand like he was discussing an ugly font. whilst i'm not sure where he picked it up, he sounded very knowledgeable. for those of you out there who don't know how to read a palm, here it goes. the top line which starts underneath the middle finger and runs right is your money line. there may also be another money which intersects the first, as you can see on my hand. my lines are thick and run all the way till the end of my palm. apparently there is some great money-making opportunities in the future. ode eh. the next line starts in between the thumb and index finger. this is your life line and while i have a very defined line, it is not very long. the line right below it is the love line and as with my life line, my love line is defined, but it stops. moreover, at exactly the same point where an intersecting line cuts them both off. even more ode eh. now that you know, open those palms, read em' and weep.
now i have dined at many fine restaurants in my day. i started putting it on grams and gramps tab, they loved eating out. it was also a nice way for them to impart table manners. even now, i live in an extremely metropolitan city with countless four and five star restaurants. but never, eva, eva, eva, had i ran into one of these. keep your kicks at a distance.
These people should get hagen-doused with really, really, really, f*ckn'n hot chocolate syrup. Not for one second do I believe this amazing specialty spoon was the only thing to prop up the window. Tis bullchip, I'm going to Ben & Jerry's.
Recently I was in a stationary store and despite that I was moving around quite a bit. On a very colorful shelf I saw a small book called "Toodles and her friends." Like many children's books it has cute cuddly animals like, kitties, puppies and bunnies, awwwwww. However in a wickedly devilish turn of events, these animals are not playing in the grass or popping their heads out of picnic baskets. Instead, they are forced to put on dead midgets clothing and huck cider on the side of the road. How embarrassing. Take Uncle Lancelot, this has to be killing at least four of his lives. At least my mother, AKA CAT HATER #1 is happy.
As many of you know there was a 7.4 magnitude earthquake in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of northern California on Tuesday. The aforementioned earthquake caused quite a stir and really went out of its way, to get noticed. In fact the entire west coast was put on tsunami alert something nearly every male at LaRocca's thought was extremely funny. So while we didn't ended up running for our lives or turning the tables into life-rafts, we made some killer tsunami napkins.
The Onion is to newspapers what The Daily Show is to television news. Complete with fictitious headlines, stories, leads, and yes, even horoscopes. In the latest edition of The Onion, myself and the rest of the rams were advised to throw down our straw hats, take off our striped shirts, drown our oars and shave our mustaches! AKA give up gandoleering forever. So since I don't live in Venice and I couldn't grow a mustache if my life depended on it, I thought nothing of it. In fact, the very next day I scheduled a pedal boat voyage with four gents on a man-made lake no more than four feet deep. As we pedaled, we got hot and all decided to take off our shirts. In the craziness, I dropped my keys in the lake. It ruined our collective day. Once we peddled back in, the head 16-year-old at the pedal boat shack let me borrow the bolt cutters so we could unlock our bikes from the rack. John Stewart keeps calling it fake news but I'll be damned if it's not having a real effect.
While shopping for a gift for my sister, I ran into Brooklyn. Unlike the burrow, she was not in New York City and also rather small in size. She had a stool where she sat and upon entering the boutique, she immediately offered me a handful of Riece's Pieces. Not one to turn down peanut butter, I took the candy as well as a look around. She was not shy at all and soon lept from the stool and walked over to me and whispered, "I have a secret."
This weekend was the annual Haight Ashbury Street Fair. As one might imagine, it consists of one part circus tent mixed with one and a half parts carny food. There is a little something for everyone.