Let's start with a request. My friend Sabin is a 33 yr old photographer, now living in Las Vegas. We played indoor soccer together for years, he's an incredibly talented individual and one of the geniunely nicest people I've come across. On June 24th, Sabin suffered a stroke. He's working on what everyone hopes is a full recovery, but since the original cause of the stroke is still undetermined there's a high risk that it could happen again. Sabin has gone to numerous doctor visits, and he recently spent a few days at the Mayo Clinic to undergo more testing. Always one to push the envelope, he set up a website to track his progress -- please visit it at Sabin's Stroke of Genius.com to track his progress or to make a donation. As one of several million working Americans without health insurance, the cost of finding an answer has an unfortunate bottom line attached to it.
Chicagoans -- there is a fundraiser on at Kincades on 9/26. See the webpage for details.
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A week late update regarding a Thursday night venture close to where the Lincoln Park Late Night Cowards have been senselessly attacking solo parties (men) after midnight.
Our first stop was Forno Diablo, #113, which is really more restaurant than bar. Dark interior decor, red accents, black & white movies on the television, and thankfully NO CARPET -- this is definitely one of the classier joints in the neighborhood. Our waitress is chipper, the pizza I order is more expensive but also 100x better than the one I ordered the previous Thursday at the Ave Tave. The beer menu is impressive so...(big surprise!) I like this place. While drinking a couple of very intriguing Maredsous Dubbel's, our conversation flows from idiot Cubs fans to the new Sox lineup and ends somewhere around running injuries.
Speaking of idiot Cubs fans...perhaps someone can explain something to me I've never understood. As a Sox fan, I have no problem admitting Wrigley Field is a beautiful place to see a ballgame. The field, that is, the stadium is something else. Anyway, the field, the ivy, the bricks, it's a shrine to baseball and better prose than I can compose has been written about the place. So at this glorious shrine to our national pastime, why is it that Cubs fans, more than any other group I've seen in the US, feel the need to litter the field with garbage when they're unsatisfied with either the umpiring, the opponent, or the perceived slight they feel their players have been given? "This place is gorgeous! Let's throw more garbage on it!" Stay classy, northsiders.
We crossed the street to Duffy's, #114. Duffy's has a huge backroom where the crowded crowd of revelers enjoying the start to an early weekend or simply drinking off their softball wins and losses actually made Rick and I feel old. We had a beer and left. I've enjoyed some days spent at Duffy's, but it's not a place anywhere near the top of my list. It did make me long for the days when I could handle dollar beer night on Lincoln Ave, those days seem to be long gone.
Third, and last stop for the night, is the tiny joint next door to Duffy's, Fion, #115. Technically a wine bar, this small place is well dressed, classy, plays good music and has yet another very very long list of imported beers. The specials for the night were mostly for various wines, but I was sticking to my beer choices. Definitely a spot for chilling out with a small group of friends, I'll be adding this one to the list of usual destinations. The kids can hang out next door, I'll be okay lounging with the adults in Fion.
So a quick 3 up, 3 down, like a good inning from Buehrle, and we're done for the night. No signs of violence on our way home...and thankfully we haven't heard news of more attacks in the neighborhood in the last few days. Hope the mess is over, but be careful out there anyway. Travel in wolfpacks.
Showing posts with label The Hangover. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Hangover. Show all posts
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
I Hate The Feeling When You're Looking At Me That Way (cuz we're...)
We'll begin with the incomprehensible/unrelated/illegible.
Thursday night for happy hour Rick and I met up with D-Train, Rob, Hutton, Peter, later Beth, and even later Annie. First stop was State/Lake, a new classy joint at State/Lake. They have a rooftop that is a meat market and you should go there if you want to be seen and to have people presume you make a lot of money and like to look pretty. Our goal is more along the lines of enjoying good beer with hilarious good friends, so our trip to the rooftop lasted about as long as it took Usain Bolt to run the 200m dash yesterday.
This bar is not in our radius, and neither was the next place we visited, the fabulous Paramount Room. Thursday at Paramount is the $10 Beer/Burger combo. The burger is seriously terrific...maybe not a Kuma's Burger, but it's pretty damn good. Paramount has a statue on the first floor I'd like to steal.
For some reason I have the following scribbled in my notebook:
D-Train, "Labradors have no risk, no reward. You never see someone with their face chewed off saying, 'man, i wish these <>.'"
I'd love to know whatever it was that he finished that thought with. A little help, anyone?
On to Saturday's 4th of July Independence Day celebration of bars and games and beer and friends and entertainment. We leave the apartment and pass an attractive girl on her cell phone remarking, "The Raptors?! Hedo, what a piece of crap!" The NBA free agency news market apparently extends to corners I never thought possible. A man on the bus across from us is browsing through a gay porn magazine, which he leaves on the seat in front of him when he exits the bus.
Our initial destination is the movie theater at 2600 N. Western to catch an afternoon showing of The Hangover, hoping that everyone else's raving about it hasn't oversold the movie's humor. A quick note to enteprenuers and developers: There ought to be a bar (with televisions) near this movie theater. Get on it.
Since we've arrived at our destination 30 minutes early without a bar to kill time at we join the rugrats running around the arcade and play some video games. I couldn't convince Rick to waste any money on the claw games, we hadn't started drinking so Dance Dance Revolution was out of the question, and someone was already playing Guitar Hero. We go old school with a few games of Cruisin' USA, in honor of this land of the pilgrim's pride.
Selfy had met us for the movie (review: four stars, all three leads are hilarious), and prior to departing for the desolate suburbs to catch whatever aging acts Ribfest has procured this year he graciously drives us to bar #1 on the day, #103 on the year, Jack's Bar & Grill. STEVE MCNAIR HAS SUFFERED FATAL GUNSHOT WOUNDS. Huh.
Jack's has very very good food, and it hits the spot. I have no hesitation recommeding the buffalo chicken sandwich, and Rick would say the same about their bbq pork. +2 admittance to the Clean Plate Club, washed down with a 312 and a Pride & Joy.
Next door to (actually a part of) Jack's is the 404 Wine Bar, #104. Rather than leave our table to enter 404 we just order a couple glasses of wine from their menu to check that one off the list. For the record, I did walk over there, it was loungey and empty on a summer afternoon. I had a glass of Cloudline, Rick went with something red.
Jack's/404 is a pretty solid option for a neighborhood bar, my only complaint would be the jukebox playlist chosen by the man drinking by himself at the bar. All songs at least 10-12 years old, former staples of the heavy alternative rock radio playlist. He was living out his glory days of HS, I'm sure.
Also while we're at Jack's? Craig sends us a mystery text about the Philadelphia Phillies. The mysterious life of a tour manager...
Leaving 404 we decide to hit up the nearby Side Street Saloon. It's closed today, and they incidentally have an anti-White Sox sign in the window. We'll be back, and we probably won't enjoy it.
So next...we head up Southport to Justin's. After entering we immediately exit realizing we've been here before -- with Internet Celebrity Baumer for a Blackhawks playoff game. Heading further north Rick and I have a brief argument/discussion about what actually constitutes a bar (you'd think we'd have settled this prior to the halfway point of our journey). Before making a second stop for the year at the Newport we realize we haven't yet been into SoPo, #105.
Our SoPo waitress wins the cutest waitress of Independence Day award. Tell yr parents good job. Rick tries a large sample of the "Purple Haze" beer for free-99. The sample is too large, too terrible, and is never finished.
Conversation drifts back to Joey Chestnut's successful defense of the Mustard Yellow Belt from earlier in the day. Rick thinks he could eat between 6-10 hot dogs in 10 minutes. I'm pretty sure I could take down 20.
Again heading north, and skipping the Newport, we run into a couple of guys that Rick went to High School with. Pleasantries are exchanged. Bar #106 is at D'Agostino's, which delivers an exceptionally strong performance. 2 Sam's Seasonals, a great song selection (seriously, Pearl Jam's "Down", some Flaming Lips, the Decemberists), and The Program is airing on the TV (Lattimer still frightens me). Also of note (since I could pick up a wireless signal here): following Tour de France riders on Twitter is pretty excellent. Right now I've got Carlos Sastre, Cadel Evans, Danny Pate, Andy Schleck, Bradley Wiggins, Lance Armstrong, David Zabriskie, Christian Vande Velde and Levi Leipheimer. I can tell you that Danny Pate is upset with the taco selection available in Europe.
A very short list (inspired by The Program) of women who without a doubt look better as blondes (over brunette):
Kristy Swanson
Last bar on our Independence Day Tour (prior to a house party, and prior to a stop at Taco Bell for 4th meal): Guthrie's!!! #107.
Guthrie's has a lot of board games on a shelf next to the bar. A LOT. One of them, according to this girl Ami we ran into while browsing the available options, "seems to have religious overtones." We hid that one in the back so no one would get stuck with it.
First up, Connect 4.
A few years back I found the Senior Thesis that someone wrote proving that if you have the first move in C-4 it's possible to always win the game. i started reading it, hoping to learn the procedure in case I ever encountered C-4 savant Kanye West in a game. It's 70 pages long, and I quickly came to the realization that I wouldn't get any work done in the office if I kept reading.
Kyle goes up a quick 3-0 in C-4, before Rick storms back with 4 straight wins. Just like the Red Sox vs the Yankees, and just as epic.
Next up? Othello. Rick has never played before and gets stomped on the first 2 games. Annie shows up and offers her support for game 3. It helps...to an extent. Kyle wins 33-31.
Rick and Annie head to Costello's, and I steal a line out of Selfy's book to "stick around and see what happens." ...before too long I'm at Costello's as well.
Random quotes I can't assign to a specific circumstance from the party:
"This isn't a kid's game, Brent. You'd better man up."
"Robert, whatever you did that you thought was cool. It wasn't cool."
Other Weekend Notes:
*I saw Moon on Friday night. No, not that New Moon crap, MOON. If you like movies that don't treat the audience as a bunch of eight year olds and makes you think while enjoying the progression of the story, not really knowing where it's headed, check this one out.
*Why is it that the people you see travelling in between cars on the El Train never seem like the kind of people who have their lives in order?
EBONY Internet Diversion of the Week:
Head on over to songmeanings.net, and enjoy the ridiculous comments people have left for Toto's "Africa" about whether or not this song, or simply liking this song, is racist. People, in general and as a rule until they prove otherwise, are stupid.
Weekend Epilogue:
Sunday was the reunion event for my MC200 team, the FF Rock Steady Crew. We met up at Seven Ten Lounge, #108 for some half price bowling and half assed competition. Joined by a solid turnout of Rick, Annie, Adam, Dave, Sof, Gin, Mike, Michelle, Matt & Amy we started throwing so many strikes Adam remarks, "Non-stop X's, this is like a porno film."
Kyle rolls 136, 121 & 149
Rick rolls 89, 123 & 147
During our last round the 5-some of Kyle, Rick, Annie, Adam & Iceberg at one point had closed out 14 of the first 17 frames. Unheard of performance for a group that had no one cracking 150.
Later a group of us headed up to Gino's East for a late dinner. Adam finishes his 7th slice of stuffed pizza (every slice covered in hot sauce), and he's dripping in sweat from the herculean effort. Mike astutely asks, "He lives alone, right?"
Excess? Overindulgence? North American Scum indeed. And proud of it. Lee Greenwood has got nothin' on James Murphy.
Thursday night for happy hour Rick and I met up with D-Train, Rob, Hutton, Peter, later Beth, and even later Annie. First stop was State/Lake, a new classy joint at State/Lake. They have a rooftop that is a meat market and you should go there if you want to be seen and to have people presume you make a lot of money and like to look pretty. Our goal is more along the lines of enjoying good beer with hilarious good friends, so our trip to the rooftop lasted about as long as it took Usain Bolt to run the 200m dash yesterday.
This bar is not in our radius, and neither was the next place we visited, the fabulous Paramount Room. Thursday at Paramount is the $10 Beer/Burger combo. The burger is seriously terrific...maybe not a Kuma's Burger, but it's pretty damn good. Paramount has a statue on the first floor I'd like to steal.
For some reason I have the following scribbled in my notebook:
D-Train, "Labradors have no risk, no reward. You never see someone with their face chewed off saying, 'man, i wish these <
I'd love to know whatever it was that he finished that thought with. A little help, anyone?
On to Saturday's 4th of July Independence Day celebration of bars and games and beer and friends and entertainment. We leave the apartment and pass an attractive girl on her cell phone remarking, "The Raptors?! Hedo, what a piece of crap!" The NBA free agency news market apparently extends to corners I never thought possible. A man on the bus across from us is browsing through a gay porn magazine, which he leaves on the seat in front of him when he exits the bus.
Our initial destination is the movie theater at 2600 N. Western to catch an afternoon showing of The Hangover, hoping that everyone else's raving about it hasn't oversold the movie's humor. A quick note to enteprenuers and developers: There ought to be a bar (with televisions) near this movie theater. Get on it.
Since we've arrived at our destination 30 minutes early without a bar to kill time at we join the rugrats running around the arcade and play some video games. I couldn't convince Rick to waste any money on the claw games, we hadn't started drinking so Dance Dance Revolution was out of the question, and someone was already playing Guitar Hero. We go old school with a few games of Cruisin' USA, in honor of this land of the pilgrim's pride.
Selfy had met us for the movie (review: four stars, all three leads are hilarious), and prior to departing for the desolate suburbs to catch whatever aging acts Ribfest has procured this year he graciously drives us to bar #1 on the day, #103 on the year, Jack's Bar & Grill. STEVE MCNAIR HAS SUFFERED FATAL GUNSHOT WOUNDS. Huh.
Jack's has very very good food, and it hits the spot. I have no hesitation recommeding the buffalo chicken sandwich, and Rick would say the same about their bbq pork. +2 admittance to the Clean Plate Club, washed down with a 312 and a Pride & Joy.
Next door to (actually a part of) Jack's is the 404 Wine Bar, #104. Rather than leave our table to enter 404 we just order a couple glasses of wine from their menu to check that one off the list. For the record, I did walk over there, it was loungey and empty on a summer afternoon. I had a glass of Cloudline, Rick went with something red.
Jack's/404 is a pretty solid option for a neighborhood bar, my only complaint would be the jukebox playlist chosen by the man drinking by himself at the bar. All songs at least 10-12 years old, former staples of the heavy alternative rock radio playlist. He was living out his glory days of HS, I'm sure.
Also while we're at Jack's? Craig sends us a mystery text about the Philadelphia Phillies. The mysterious life of a tour manager...
Leaving 404 we decide to hit up the nearby Side Street Saloon. It's closed today, and they incidentally have an anti-White Sox sign in the window. We'll be back, and we probably won't enjoy it.
So next...we head up Southport to Justin's. After entering we immediately exit realizing we've been here before -- with Internet Celebrity Baumer for a Blackhawks playoff game. Heading further north Rick and I have a brief argument/discussion about what actually constitutes a bar (you'd think we'd have settled this prior to the halfway point of our journey). Before making a second stop for the year at the Newport we realize we haven't yet been into SoPo, #105.
Our SoPo waitress wins the cutest waitress of Independence Day award. Tell yr parents good job. Rick tries a large sample of the "Purple Haze" beer for free-99. The sample is too large, too terrible, and is never finished.
Conversation drifts back to Joey Chestnut's successful defense of the Mustard Yellow Belt from earlier in the day. Rick thinks he could eat between 6-10 hot dogs in 10 minutes. I'm pretty sure I could take down 20.
Again heading north, and skipping the Newport, we run into a couple of guys that Rick went to High School with. Pleasantries are exchanged. Bar #106 is at D'Agostino's, which delivers an exceptionally strong performance. 2 Sam's Seasonals, a great song selection (seriously, Pearl Jam's "Down", some Flaming Lips, the Decemberists), and The Program is airing on the TV (Lattimer still frightens me). Also of note (since I could pick up a wireless signal here): following Tour de France riders on Twitter is pretty excellent. Right now I've got Carlos Sastre, Cadel Evans, Danny Pate, Andy Schleck, Bradley Wiggins, Lance Armstrong, David Zabriskie, Christian Vande Velde and Levi Leipheimer. I can tell you that Danny Pate is upset with the taco selection available in Europe.
A very short list (inspired by The Program) of women who without a doubt look better as blondes (over brunette):
Kristy Swanson
Last bar on our Independence Day Tour (prior to a house party, and prior to a stop at Taco Bell for 4th meal): Guthrie's!!! #107.
Guthrie's has a lot of board games on a shelf next to the bar. A LOT. One of them, according to this girl Ami we ran into while browsing the available options, "seems to have religious overtones." We hid that one in the back so no one would get stuck with it.
First up, Connect 4.
A few years back I found the Senior Thesis that someone wrote proving that if you have the first move in C-4 it's possible to always win the game. i started reading it, hoping to learn the procedure in case I ever encountered C-4 savant Kanye West in a game. It's 70 pages long, and I quickly came to the realization that I wouldn't get any work done in the office if I kept reading.
Kyle goes up a quick 3-0 in C-4, before Rick storms back with 4 straight wins. Just like the Red Sox vs the Yankees, and just as epic.
Next up? Othello. Rick has never played before and gets stomped on the first 2 games. Annie shows up and offers her support for game 3. It helps...to an extent. Kyle wins 33-31.
Rick and Annie head to Costello's, and I steal a line out of Selfy's book to "stick around and see what happens." ...before too long I'm at Costello's as well.
Random quotes I can't assign to a specific circumstance from the party:
"This isn't a kid's game, Brent. You'd better man up."
"Robert, whatever you did that you thought was cool. It wasn't cool."
Other Weekend Notes:
*I saw Moon on Friday night. No, not that New Moon crap, MOON. If you like movies that don't treat the audience as a bunch of eight year olds and makes you think while enjoying the progression of the story, not really knowing where it's headed, check this one out.
*Why is it that the people you see travelling in between cars on the El Train never seem like the kind of people who have their lives in order?
EBONY Internet Diversion of the Week:
Head on over to songmeanings.net, and enjoy the ridiculous comments people have left for Toto's "Africa" about whether or not this song, or simply liking this song, is racist. People, in general and as a rule until they prove otherwise, are stupid.
Weekend Epilogue:
Sunday was the reunion event for my MC200 team, the FF Rock Steady Crew. We met up at Seven Ten Lounge, #108 for some half price bowling and half assed competition. Joined by a solid turnout of Rick, Annie, Adam, Dave, Sof, Gin, Mike, Michelle, Matt & Amy we started throwing so many strikes Adam remarks, "Non-stop X's, this is like a porno film."
Kyle rolls 136, 121 & 149
Rick rolls 89, 123 & 147
During our last round the 5-some of Kyle, Rick, Annie, Adam & Iceberg at one point had closed out 14 of the first 17 frames. Unheard of performance for a group that had no one cracking 150.
Later a group of us headed up to Gino's East for a late dinner. Adam finishes his 7th slice of stuffed pizza (every slice covered in hot sauce), and he's dripping in sweat from the herculean effort. Mike astutely asks, "He lives alone, right?"
Excess? Overindulgence? North American Scum indeed. And proud of it. Lee Greenwood has got nothin' on James Murphy.
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