Thursday, December 24, 2009

Everytime I See You Falling, I Get Down On My Knees And Pray

This post covers the events (well, MOST of the events) of 12/5/09.

We begin the night at Rockwood Place, #173, the second time we've been to this address. Previously this year it was known as The Central, sister bar to The Grand Central. For reason unknown to me it has changed names (possibly owners? I don't know. I also don't care.), so we're required to visit it again. We're joined by Tim/Peter/Leroy/Chuck (again, that's just one person). Rockwood Place is very loud. Very Loud. There are a couple of guys watching some UFC or MMA fight at the end of the bar. It's somewhat crowded for being early in the evening, we're here this early so we can catch the Blackhawks game. Also, if I haven't mentioned it already or your intuition hasn't picked up on it, my feelings about this bar are that it's terrible. In the "pros" column, though, the waitresses are, um...busty, and they have Brooklyn Lager on tap.

We debate heading to another bar a few times, but the game is on and it's interesting, enough so to overpower the awful music they're blasting (which is just a playlist on repeat. Stick around here for longer than 40 minutes and you'll hear the same songs again). While hearing David Guetta's "Sexy Bitch" turned up to 11, Tim/Peter/Leroy/Chuck has the line of the night, possibly the line of the year. "I'm tryin to find the words to describe this bar without being disrespectfulllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!" It applies to so many places we've been this year.

Our first 2 orders of the Brooklyn Lager arrive in pint glasses, my third one comes in one of those cheap plastic party cups. Thinking I've been ripped off, I pour the glass into the pint glass I still have because our waitress hasn't taken it away. To all of our amazement we discover it's exactly 1 pint big (i'm sure there's a specific measurement for this, I'm not bothering to look it up. It's 10:15 on xmas eve and I'm trying to spit this entry out so I can go to bed and then fly to Colorado). Again, we're all floored by this discovery. Revelations aren't just in the Bible, folks.

The Blackhawks game is tied through 3 periods, so we decide the lull in the action is our chance to head north on Clark to our next stop, Bernie's, #174. We close out our tab, power walk to Bernie's and discover the game is over. WTF?! The doorman informs us the b'hawks scored like 40 seconds into OT. Nice job Hawks! Bernie's is a good place, at least tonight. It's proximity to Wrigley leaves me unable to fully evaluate it without experiencing the bar during a Cubs game. We have 3 Harpoon IPAs, then continue the crawl.

Continuing our trend, we head north. Eickhoff has now joined us and we're at Rockit, #175 (not the Rockit you're thinking of, they've opened another outpost in the Wrigley neighborhood). I have nothing to write about Rockit, we were in and out as quickly as we could down a beer and hit the bathroom.

North again, this time to the Full Shillling, #176. Morris has now joined us. We order a few drinks and our waitress can't figure out if our total is $14 or $16. She charges us $14, then brings $4 in change back to our table, having determined it was $16 instead. Morris, while she is standing there, loudly wonders "what kind of tip do you give to a liar?"

Last stop of the night, somewhere we've been before, SmartBar. Our travelling tour manager of a friend Craig is in town for the Holidays and we're meeting him there to catch Peter Hook (formerly of New Order. see post title) dj. Last time I saw Peter Hook dj was for the Metro 25th Anniversary Party, where I'm pretty sure I yelled at him about one of his song selections and Joe Shanahan wondered how Rick and I got on the guestlist. Later that night I left at the same time as former Chicago Poet Laureate Thax Douglas and lied to him about what neighborhood I lived in so I wouldn't have to walk the same direction as him. Sorry Thax. Hope you're living it up in your new hometown of Austin, TX.

Anyway, we've all been drinking for a while so our presence on the dance floor is likely a mix of amusing and annoying to other people in attendance. Good night, good job to everyone involved.

You Dissolve, It's Just Another Way You Exist

EBONY's favorite albums from 2009 (on two separate lists).

Kyle's -
30. Karen O & The Kids - Where the Wild Things Are Soundtrack
29. m. ward - Hold Time
28. Howling Bells - Radio Wars
27. Antony & The Jonstons - The Crying Light
26. Sunset Rubdown - Dragonslayer
25. Datarock - Red
24. Heartless Bastards - The Mountain
23. Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavilion
22. Bertie Blackman - Secrets and Lies
21. The Field - Yesterday & Today
20. The Dream - Love vs Money
19. Weezer - Raditude
18. Girls - Album
17. The Big Pink - A Brief History of Love
16. Dent May - The Good Feeling Music of Dent May
15. Andrew Bird - Noble Beast
14. Converge - Axe to Fall
13. Neko Case - Middle Cyclone
12. Annie - Don't Stop
11. AC Newman - Get Guilty
10. The Antlers - Hospice
9. The Pains of Being Pure At Heart - s/t
8. The Very Best - Warm Heart of Africa
7. Future of the Left - Travels With Myself and Another
6. We Were Promised Jetpacks - These Four Walls
5. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - It's Blitz
4. The Thermals - Now We Can See
3. Music Go Music - Expressions
2. Generationals - Con Law
1. Handsome Furs - Face Control

In the past I've made lists as long as 50 albums, know, going to like 200 bars this year kinda cut into my music listening time.

Rick's -
15) 'Spirit of Apollo' by N.A.S.A.
14) 'Travels With Myself and Another' by Future of the Left
13) 'Life of Leisure' by Washed Out
12) 'Julian Plenti is Skyscraper' by Julian Plenti
11) 'Fist of God' by MSTRKRFT
10) 'Where Did All My People Go' by The Prairie Cartel
9) 'No Magical' by Worlds Greatest Ghosts
8) 'Beast Rest Fourth Mouth' by Bear in Heaven
7) 'The Love of No Dance' by Jump Clubb
6) 'Gold Country' by Chuck Ragan
5) 'Now We Can See' by The Thermals
4) 'Love Comes Close' by Cold Cave
3) 'Mama, I'm Swollen' by Cursive
2) 'These Four Walls' by We Were Promised Jetpacks
1) 'Exploding Head' by A Place To Bury Strangers

Final bar recaps up pretty soon...

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Following the Herd, Down to Greece

Okay, first we’ll start with my trip to 400 W Superior to close out the final chapter of “the incident”. I’m at the Starbucks on Franklin & Chicago, killing time before my 2:30 hearing, enjoying a hot chocolate and pages 115-135 of David Byrne’s Bicycle Diaries. There’s a tap on my foot, and I look up to see my friend Paul. “Hey Kyle, what are you doing down here today? No work?” I pause, thinking of how to reply, then just say, “yeah, remember reading about Rick and I’s tickets? I’m dealing with that today.” We exchange hearty laughter.
I ended up with the same plea deal as Rick. There were a handful of others also scheduled at the same time, 3 of them with the same citation as me. One of those 3 was a girl. That was suspect. I paid my fine, now it’s over and done with, like the Proclaimers song.
So, yes, I’d like to point out that I fully understand the complete hypocrisy of this situation. I’ve spent many words on this blog this year deriding the inhabitants and drunken revelers of Wrigleyville. I do recognize that my moral high ground is now below sea level. It doesn’t really matter what walk of life you’re from, the phrase “nothing good happens after midnight” applies to everyone. Just ask Tiger. (Also, I don’t fully subscribe to that, there are good things that happen after midnight. It’s more of an equation. The further past midnight you go the more likely you are to experience negativity.)

Onto bar recapping, this covering the evening of 11/28.
Bridget McNeills, #165 is an Irish-named bar that is definitely the most isolated of all the bars within a mile of where we live. How is that possible, you ask? Good thing you asked, I’ll tell you. It’s at Belmont and Lakeshore (err, Sheridan). It’s a good 3-4 blocks from anything else, and surrounded pretty much by high-rise condo buildings, and actually located on the first floor of one of those buildings. So you’d think it’d be crowded, being an oasis in the liquor desert. You’d think that. They do have good nightly food specials on the menu, but I can’t remember what any of them were. Rick thought if he lived in the building it’d be hard for him to avoid having dinner at the bar 3 nights a week. Bud Drinks are on special for $2.50! So we order a couple of New Belgium 2-Belows. I drop some money in the jukebox, playing a few tracks off the criminally fantastic INXS KICK album. Annie joins us, Selfy & Ericka join us, along with her friend Laura. The night is young. Conversation turns to Freakonomics, Super Freakonomics, and In Defense of Food.

We move on, down Belmont, turning North on Broadway, and picking up an aimlessly wandering Morris along the way. The competition for 3rd-6th in the Friends Rankings is beginning to heat up. We arrive at Joe’s on Broadway, #166. This is absolutely 100% a dive bar. The entrance is a screen door that slams shut. A couple of Point Pale Ales are $7. Selfy and Morris claim that they saw The Big Hurt at the Landmark Grill on Halsted a few days earlier. We decide had we visited this bar a few years ago it would’ve been completely filled with smoke. The slamming of the screen door announces Eickhoff's arrival. Everyone seems to have at least one story about running from the police. All of these took place during adolescence.

Again, we travel. F. O’Mahoney’s, #167 starts with too many letters. It’s also known as Finley Mahony’s, so there’s some sort of identity crisis going on here. It’s another Irish bar, also an Ohio St bar. Joe and Casey arrive. Selfy points out that “we’ve got a good group crawlin’ tonight.”
Morris & the bartender have this exchange:
"Are your jager bombs like this |----| or like this |------------------|?" (insinuating size with his thumb and forefinger)
"Like this |----|, i don't want to clean up your puke."

Selfy, Joe and I had all gone roughly 3-4 weeks without shaving. Reasons for growing, or attempting to grow, beards:
Selfy - raising money for prostate cancer
Joe - as a fashion statement
Kyle - because i'm lazy

We move on, time for our whirlwind trip through what remains on our list of Boystown. We head across the street to Charlie’s, #168 where the doorman stops us before entering. “Have you guys ever been here before?” Nope. “Here’s the deal, if you disrupt the dance floor, you WILL be kicked out.” Umm, okay.
Upon entering, we see what he means. Charlie's, several nights a week, is a country line-dancing bar. The dance floor is full with nearly 20 couples, all men. They’re doing line dances, circle dances, things I don’t know what to call because I’m clearly not up to speed on my country dance bar terminology. Anyway, the ENTIRE dance floor moves in complete unison. To say this is a little intimidating to watch is an understatement. There are a lot of men wearing cowboy hats, including the bartenders. I talk to one of them, and explain the purpose of the EmptyBlogOfNothing, “we’re two straight Sox fans visiting every bar in Wrigleyville and Boystown.” He thinks it’s fantastic, is glad we’ve stopped in, and pours us each a shot. For the year, we’re working on a 60-70% success rate of explaining what we’re doing to bartenders and ending up with a free shot.
A few more of Ericka’s friends show up, so our crowd for the evening has swelled to 10+. It’s beginning to get late, the bars are getting more crowded.

Again, moving on. We next travel to North End, #169. This is a karaoke bar. It’s another gay bar. I decide to repeat my performance from Halloween by singing Enrique Iglesias’ “Hero”. Casey joins me on stage, I dropped the microphone at one point, and our rendition was either fantastic or completely terrible. At this point I’ve also started handing over my EBONY notebook to friends. All they’ve written for the Enrique performance, and the entirety of our stay at the North End, is: BOOOO!!!!!!!

We head next door to Bobby Love’s, #170, which is ALSO a karaoke bar. 15 minutes after the first performance of “Hero”, I sing it again. I suppose I'll need to branch out if I'm ever going to moonlight at karaoke lounges. Casey joins me on stage, again. Thankfully I didn’t drop the microphone mid-song this time. This time, in my notebook, written by someone else, is:
“HE WAS AMAZING!!!” (and the “amazing part” has been violently crossed out by someone else). Then, “the whole crowd joined in and sang with kyle. Amazing. Turned straight men gay. Next up, some guy named benji. Wow, val and laura are effing amazing, how do I not love them? Next thing I know, Louie walks on the dance floor and flashed everyone. The crowd went wild. We all cheered, the bar closed. Everyone got herpes. THE END”
I decide I’m never giving my notebook to my friends again.

We head to our last Boystown bar to cross off the list, The Kit Kat Lounge, #171. They’re close to closing (well, the kitchen at least) and aren’t happy a large crew has just showed up hungry. It’s a much quieter and subdued vibe here, but not so much quieter that everyone doesn’t wake up the next morning with severe hangovers.

Next recap up soon...keep checking in! We're almost done with this godforsaken journey.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Final Countdown

There is finally light at the end of our tunnel. I had my doubts in the last couple of months, but there will soon be a huge weight lifted off our shoulders. We realize that we're still behind in getting past bars updated, but we wanted to get our itinerary for the coming weeks posted to keep everyone in the loop. As of now, this is our plan to visit the final 11 bars we still have remaining:

12/19: Mini barcrawl of Galway Bay -> Mickey's Pub -> Ole Lounge -> Berlin -> somewhere fun
12/20: While watching some football at Tryst -> Purple Haze -> Nisei Lounge
12/22: Schubas Holiday Party
12/23: The finale of Rockhouse -> Las Fuentes -> Kingston Mines

So open up your schedules and keep us in the loop if you want to join.

As I said, we still have two weekends of visitations to recap. At the end of November we hit up bars #165-171 at Bridget McNeills, Joe's on Broadway, F O'Mahoney's, Charlie's, North End, Bobby Love's and Kit Kat Lounge. We thought for sure that we would close Boystown out this night, but Berlin will just have to wait until this coming weekend. We also started December off in style at bars #172-176 at the Elbo Room, Rockwood Place, Bernie's, Rockit, and the Full Schilling before eventually going to SmartBar to see Peter Hook, formerly of New Order spinning. See you soon.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

EBONY vs City of Chicago, Day 1

Even with the delay of officially posting the story of the "incident", word spread fast. Yesterday was my turn to represent myself in day 1 of 2 (hopefully only 2) of EBONY vs the City of Chicago. I didn't really know what to expect going in to this. I had the legal team of Holland & Holland to consult in the leading weeks to the hearing, along with many google searches for any helpful tips in our case. Also, if I had a dollar for every time someone recommended I plead that I have uromysitisis, I'd be able to buy the new $7.99 combo at Sonic. I show up to the hearing 45 minutes early as I took a half-day at work not knowing how long this would last. I check in to court room 101 and walk in to see the honorable Judge Richard Byrne behind the desk. The room is empty and he looks pretty bored. He tells me to check in with the clerk in the side room. The clerk looks over my case and gives me two options: either except a plea, or see the judge and let it be up to him. The plea bargain came with two options. Option one was to pay $100 right now and I'm on my home. Option two was to participate in one day of community service. I asked what the community service consisted of as I feel repaying my debt to society would be a noble cause. He looks confused and says, "no one has ever accepted the community service option, let me look it up." In the end it consisted of picking up trash at a southside park from 7am to 3pm on a weekday. I told him I accepted the payment of $100. I left the clerks office and told the judge my decision. Within 3 minutes of entering court I was on my way home. To top it off, I was allowed to pay my fine with a credit card. So at least I get an extra 100 miles on American Airlines out of this, plus it was easy handing over my American Express knowing that they take the biggest cut out of all major credit cards from the merchant. All-in-all, I'd say this was a victory. I read horror stories of fines being between $200-500 bucks, and even worse stories of things that get put on your criminal record. To top it off, I killed 60 minutes at Macy's beforehand and took advantage of their 1 day 60% off sale and cleaned house with some X-Mas shopping which saved me $160. EBONY 1, City of Chicago 0.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Shopping, an Essay.

Reprinted with permission of the author (well, duh! the author is me). Written a few years ago, and relevant to what's filling up some of your free time these days.

"I always forget how much I really really really LOVE shopping until the holiday season rolls around. I wouldn't call myself an avid consumer, it's not that often I find myself in the mall. you see, I live with this condition...I guess it's a condition, I don't know what else to call it...where I set off the alarms at 75% of the stores I enter/exit. It's the stupidest hassle in the world. Some places don't really give a damn. Some clerks just brush it off because they heard the bells & whistles when I walked into the store, and I remind them when I'm walking out that I'm *probably* going to set the alarm off. Often after setting them off on my entrance I don't set them when I leave, which is bizarre. Some of the clerks tell me it's probably my cell phone, although I've changed cell phones 3x in the last 7 years and this hasn't gone away. Going to borders or barnes & noble is fun because I need to alert the hired holiday security guard prior to leaving so they don't chase me down. When I alert them and then somehow fail to trigger the noisemakers I become even more of a suspect in their eyes. Clothing stores with diligent customer service employees trying to impress the boss are always great...they want to go through my bags, my pockets, my coats, and run them all over the demagnetizing sensor before I'm allowed to leave. No matter how many times I tell them its just me they don't get it. They are CONVINCED that some subpar employee at some other clothing store forgot to take off a sensor. "I don't think it's anything in that bag. This happened at the Gap, at Restoration Hardware, at Sharper Image, at Old Navy, and at Forever 21 all five times I've been there today." "No, I'm absolutely sure there's something in one of these bags that is setting off the alarms." Often I find myself hovering around the exit waiting to notify someone, it's like I'm trapped inside loitering until I can track down an employee to let me leave. At the thanksgiving day children's table of retail shopping I'm forever waiting for permission from an adult to be excused."

happy holidays. stimulate your local economy, not those garbage stores i mention above.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Breakin' Rocks in the Hot Sun...

Why does it seem like lately all of my posts begin with an apology for our tardiness?

Today is Monday, 12/7, and this post recaps the events of the night of Thursday, 11/12. Yikes. Best to get on with the postin’…

Our evening begins at The Gaslight (#155), where we are joined by my younger brother as well as Internet Celebrity Baumer. Why Baumer even showed up is beyond me, as he was 9 days away from running his first marathon. Rick and I start off with a couple of 3 Floyds’ Robert The Bruce, Grant orders the New Belgium Fall Wild Ale. The Gaslight is a good bar, they’ve got a great food menu, and the place is often crowded. Our waitress has a script tattoo on her forearm that we spend dinner guessing what it might read. We later find out it’s French for “Live in the Moment.” Not what anyone guessed.
Grant and I enjoy the tilapia fish tacos, Rick ordered the Hickory Burger, as follows:
“I’ll have the Hickory burger, without cheese. I realize that’s why the burger has it’s name, but the thought of cheese spread on a burger sounds horrible to me.”

Internet Celebrity Baumer asks, “Will there be blog updates in 2010?” Wait and see, ICB, wait and see.

We finish our dinner and start the crawling. Next up, Southport City Saloon (#156). This is a local hangout, not the kind of place that’s a destination to get your friends from other neighborhoods to come visit. It has character, and characters. The old men at the bar are all drunk on wine, one of them repeatedly spills his glass on the bar. One girl is here alone waiting on a friend. We decide that she’s right in ICB’s wheelhouse, and we would spend the rest of the evening writing a song dedicated to her. Ask Rick about his freestyle rap section. PBR’s are on special for $2.50, the bears and niners are currently tied at 0. It won’t stay this way.
Friend of my brother and fellow Baby Atlas-devotee Sarah shows up. She’s been reading of our exploits all year and has only now made her first appearance. Sarah was the first to complain that EBONY had no presence on Twitter (we do now if you haven’t been following @emptyblog). Months ago I told her she had exclusive rights to the EBONY Interview. She thought it meant we would be interviewing her, although I can’t for the life of me figure out why we would do that. That she’s expected to interview us comes as a surprise, so we spend the next 2 bars helping her come up with questions for an interview that may or may not ever grace these pages.

Moving on…our second attempt to visit Maeve (#157) is a successful one (it was closed on a previously attempted visit). A round of PBR’s and 1 Hoegaarden are ordered, and someone in attendance has a puppy dog that we’re all pretty shocked I didn’t attempt to steal. Rick, what’s the count now for number of bars we’ve visited this year that had a dog present? “6”
There’s nothing special about this place tonight. I’d recommend it’s less pretentious neighbor Tavish if you’re ever at the intersection of Wrightwood and Wayne.

Heading further east down Wrightwood we stop in what used to be a fantastic neighborhood bar, Wrightwood Tap (#158). I say used to, because sometime in the last 4-5 years they gutted the place and turned it into a copy of everywhere else. They do have complementary pretzel sticks at the bar, so I’ll give them that. The special is $3 import/microbrews. We ask the waitress what our choices are. She looks at the taps…, “Umm…pretty much Sierra.” The idea of an EBONY 12/19 formal holiday bar crawl is discussed. Nothing is set in stone. The music is terrible here (Buckcherry). The conversation briefly turns back to Halloween, and Grant makes the keen observation as to why a lot of people in boystown didn’t get Rick’s costume (roe v wade). I turn my notebook over to Sarah for the official EBONY interview. A sampling of quotes and notes, I’ll attempt to attribute quotes where I know who said them:

“Those bitches are drinking coors light..the mountains aren’t even blue.”
“I’m the middle child who does things for attention.” – Kyle
“You didn’t REALLY meet Baumer on Craigslist, did you?”
“It’s that stupid Black Eyed Peas ‘mazeltov’ song. Is Lenny Kravitz the only black jewish person?” - Rick
“Romance isn’t the purpose of EBONY. At best, it’s the 4th priority of the mission.” - Kyle
“Who’s this Kip Bayless guy?” - Grant

After 25 minutes, during which time Amanda and her GIANT BACKPACK show up, we take off for the Toasted Ox (#159). This is a terrible bar (we’re about to hit a stretch of terrible bars…bear with us). The special here? The sign says it’s $2 you-call-it’s. Apparently the bar isn’t aware of how bar promotions actually work, because the only thing thats $2 is a plastic Dixie cup full of Miller Lite. My brother asks me to order him a gin & tonic, but I mishear what he says. He is confused when I bring him a Guinness. I try explaining our 2009 mission to our waitress, but I’m fairly certain she’s never had a conversation with anyone for longer than 2 sentences. The guy tending bar with her is sporting a ludiculous pompadour.

Again, moving on, as soon as beers are finished but not soon enough. Rick and I head across the street to Clarke Bar, #160. This is the place attached the breakfast joint on Lincoln, and we’ll just go ahead and award it the Grand Prize in the “Never Judge A Book By It’s Cover” category. From the outside, it looks like a bar I’d spend a lot of time at…from the outside you’d guess it has a similar feel and atmosphere to the brand new bar area inside Lincoln Hall. Cozy, enjoyable, good people, good drinks, well decorated and inviting. That’s from the outside. On the inside…on the inside they’re serving $5 plastic pitchers of Miller Lite, roughly half of the population appears underage, and there’s garbage on most of the tables. I feel like we’re at some 18 year old’s basement party. Inexplicably they’re charging an entry fee at the door, I’m still not sure why. Grant and his friends are lagging behind us at this point. He has the following encounter with the doorman:
D: “$10 cover for each of you.”
G: “What?! $10 cover for this place?”
D: “Okay, how about $10 total?”
G: “How about $5 total?
D: “Hmm…okay”.
(Grant then steps away to answer his phone. It was me calling to confirm that, yes, we were inside this bar. He returns to the door with his friends, literally not 30 seconds from the end of the last conversation.)
D: “$10 cover for each of you.”
G: “You just said $5 total!”
D: “I did? Aww, man. I’m sorry…okay $5 total. Here, take a beer bong!”

We leave Clarke Bar shortly after entering. Now, we originally planned on going for the EBONY record for number of bars in one day. This won’t be happening tonight, I'll explain why soon. Next stop is Soiree, #161. This is a bit of a club joint, complete with a line, expensive cover, and a doorman with a clipboard VIP list operating the velvet rope gateway. We’re on a mission, and we’re not waiting in line. Rick walks up to the guy and tells him, “We’re with Dan Marsden.” Wait, who? You may remember Dan Marsden from our trip to Lincoln Hall from 2 weeks prior. Rick has decided that’s a pretty good name to use for getting into bars. The doorman briefly checks his list, gives up looking, and simply lets us into the club completely skipping the lineup. That’s the best part of the entire Soiree experience. I’d never visit this place if I didn’t have to. Next time you're trying to get into a VIP-only event, go with "Dan Marsden".

We leave Soiree, and we’re hungry. We’re not sure which bars we’re going to next, but now is not the time for crossing more bars of the list. Now is the time for what has previously been referred to as “the incident”. Rick, Grant and I are walking down Lincoln, and Rick and I head down the alley behind The Hoagie Hut. I’d estimate 15-20 seconds later a police car with its lights on follows us down the alley. 3 minutes later, we both have received citations for public urination, and our court dates are in December. Grant has fled the scene and we meet him at La Bamba’s for a very late night dinner. I’ve never understood my brother’s affinity for La Bamba’s, since he works at an upscale burrito joint in Colorado. Something about misguided nostalgia for the Big 10 college experience, I guess.
Anyway, we’ll report back after our visits to the courtrooms of city hall. Our motivation having been killed for the evening, we simply retreat home after our terrible burritos.

Coming soon: maybe some beer mile pictures, a recap of 11/29, a November retrospective, and the final EBONY updates as we wrap up our 2009 mission (soon to be accomplished).