Usually I like to get more in depth with my tales of sin in the city of angels but today I must cut it short because it's opening day and I am craving a Dodger dog so I'll cut to the chase.
*Thursday the 27th: An L.A. County Sheriff pulled a buddy of mine and I over due to a busted tail light. Routine traffic stop right? Not so fast my friends.It was one a.m., we were in a less than reputable neighborhood and there was a hint of Jack on my breath combine all those factors and you end up with me sitting in back of a Highway patrol car for over an hour while the officer searches the car. All they found was the piece of Pan Dulce I had wrapped in a napkin, and upon seeing this the officer decided that we weren't out to cause trouble so she let us go. Interesting side note, the officers demeanor greatly changed when I mentioned the Dodgers.
*Friday: Studied and played COD 4 with my cousin, then for a nightcap it was Super Smash Bros. Brawl while sipping on some Grey Goose., Good times.
*Saturday: Coliseum game. Unfortunately we had to park near the campus of Spoiled Children but it was well worth it since my Bruins were on with a chance to go to the final four on the line.Of course we won and I got to rub it in all the surrounding Trojan fans. But the day was all about the boys in blue so I had to shelve the Bruin spirit. While I agree with the Duke on the field being an absolute joke for baseball, it was still magical nonetheless. It was truly wonderful being surrounded by Dodger fans in a carnival like setting. The highlight was being able to take a picture with Ron Cey and the 81' and 88' trophies.
*Sunday: Studied and set up a Flickr account. After that I went to a recording studio on the outskirts of downtown and took pictures of the skyline from the rooftop of said studio. Came home and couldn't sleep due to the excitement of the Monday's events.
That's pretty much it. March has been one long and expensive month and I am both sad and happy to see it go. Now in the immortal words of the great Vin Scully:
"It's time for Dodger baseball!"
Monday, March 31, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Erin Go Bragh
Started off at the Peppermill in Vegas. Personally I thought the place was overrated. I was given a huge drink that was called a scorpion. A bit fruity for my taste, but what was I to do? At least I had a couple to gain a pretty good buzz. Checked into the room and I immediately put the Jack on ice. I was cautiously optimistic because I had brought my books with me to study before the show. Flogging Molly went on at eight so I some time to kill. I know it's weird because who studies in Vegas?
I showered before the show. Nothing like sipping on some ice cold Jack. The beauty of this former desert lay off for G.I's is that it allows one to walk around with a glass or other type of container filled with a poison of choice. I filled a cup with whiskey and minimal ice of course and headed for the show. (Got a real nice picture of the sunsetting from my room it should follow this.) By the time I got to Mandalay Bay (The show was at the House of Blues)I was at least two sheets to the wind.
Now I only remember a bit of the show. They did play "Drunken Lullabies" and "Rebels of the Sacred Heart". Thanks to fifty two dollar rounds, the show is pretty much a blur. How can you not get drunk at a Molly show?
I wake up in the room around two a.m. Lord knows how I got there. After yet another rejuvenating shower, I decide to get down to the business of losing money. I make another drink and grab my green Dodger cap and head for Vegas' rainy streets. Along the way I receive various compliments on the hat and actually got a drink or two out of it. Again due to the alcohol consumption it gets foggy. I recall winning at New York, New York, Paris, and Planet Hollywood.
On my way home on Sunday, I deemed this a successful trip. Left Vegas with a slight hangover, more money than I came with and some kick ass beef jerky that was purchased before I hit LA. I was ready to relax as soon as I got home. I did the requisite unpacking and then a phone call offered me the chance to go see Bad Religion at the Hollywood House of Blues. So I grabbed my green hat, and the Jack and I was on my way to another show.
Helluva way to celebrate St. Patty's day right?
I showered before the show. Nothing like sipping on some ice cold Jack. The beauty of this former desert lay off for G.I's is that it allows one to walk around with a glass or other type of container filled with a poison of choice. I filled a cup with whiskey and minimal ice of course and headed for the show. (Got a real nice picture of the sunsetting from my room it should follow this.) By the time I got to Mandalay Bay (The show was at the House of Blues)I was at least two sheets to the wind.
Now I only remember a bit of the show. They did play "Drunken Lullabies" and "Rebels of the Sacred Heart". Thanks to fifty two dollar rounds, the show is pretty much a blur. How can you not get drunk at a Molly show?
I wake up in the room around two a.m. Lord knows how I got there. After yet another rejuvenating shower, I decide to get down to the business of losing money. I make another drink and grab my green Dodger cap and head for Vegas' rainy streets. Along the way I receive various compliments on the hat and actually got a drink or two out of it. Again due to the alcohol consumption it gets foggy. I recall winning at New York, New York, Paris, and Planet Hollywood.
On my way home on Sunday, I deemed this a successful trip. Left Vegas with a slight hangover, more money than I came with and some kick ass beef jerky that was purchased before I hit LA. I was ready to relax as soon as I got home. I did the requisite unpacking and then a phone call offered me the chance to go see Bad Religion at the Hollywood House of Blues. So I grabbed my green hat, and the Jack and I was on my way to another show.
Helluva way to celebrate St. Patty's day right?
Friday, March 14, 2008
Here we go
Vegas baby Vegas. Shame I'll miss the Pac-ten tourney final, not to mention the NCAA tourney selection show on Sunday. Oh well, such is the price for Flogging Molly.
Full report when I get back.
Full report when I get back.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
A little late
I attended the Foo Fighters show at the Forum on Thursday. Awesome show. I am going to keep it short. It was a eventful evening starting with the Inglewood police department telling me that they have a problem with my water bottle. Granted the water bottle had Southern Comfort in it. Weird right? Luckily they noticed I was already buzzing and co they made dump the rest out. I arrived just in time to see the Foos come on stage. Highlights of the show: Triangle solo and a instrumental version of the Doors' "Roadhouse Blues" in the Middle of "I'll Stick Around. Oh yeah, the Forum doesn't appreciate you smoking either. All in all it was a good show and I lost my voice. Sorry I wasn't much more in depth. I promise I will do a better job with Vegas.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Fuck Anaheim
Okay. The headline might be a bit misleading, but I can't really find anything positive anymore. The Angels are a joke, Disneyland has lost all of it's charm and now we have this to deal with: Racism. See I recently attended The Dropkick Murphy's show on Sunday at The Grove, and during "Kiss Me I'm Shitfaced" a young male Caucasian grabbed the mike and yelled "White Power" into the crowd and did the whole Nazi salute. Granted Dropkick is from Boston and they do have a song tittled "Skinhead on the MTBA" but does that permit someone to say that to a crowd of people just gathered to see an awesome band? What day and age is this?
And it is not like we are stuck in the deep south where this is sometimes encouraged. I have been to a number of shows in the past 12 years and I have never encountered anything like this. If this happened in Hollywood or anywhere in LA county that guy would have been beaten to a bloody pulp. Not everyone is perfect but this goes beyond the limits of general decency. I have never left a show as angry as I was last night. Maybe it will never happen again and hopefully that guy is eating his food through a straw right now, but until further notice: FUCK ANA-SLIME !!!
(This better not happen at Flogging Molly. I think there are less douchebags in Vegas, hopefully.)
And it is not like we are stuck in the deep south where this is sometimes encouraged. I have been to a number of shows in the past 12 years and I have never encountered anything like this. If this happened in Hollywood or anywhere in LA county that guy would have been beaten to a bloody pulp. Not everyone is perfect but this goes beyond the limits of general decency. I have never left a show as angry as I was last night. Maybe it will never happen again and hopefully that guy is eating his food through a straw right now, but until further notice: FUCK ANA-SLIME !!!
(This better not happen at Flogging Molly. I think there are less douchebags in Vegas, hopefully.)
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Friday
After another trying yet successful meatless Friday that also found me stuck in front of this thing all day, it was time for some R n'R . I talked to Robert and Pasadena was suggested. I agreed to meet him there. Being the studious one, I suggested to Saul, who is a mate of mine, we pick up a bottle on the way over there. I also took a little Brandy with me just in case. You never know right? So after the acquisition of the bottle we jumped on the freeway and started off.
We decided to kill sometime on the strip seeing as we didn't wanna show up early and look like jerks.The bottle was cracked open and the night truly began. A mixture of bad puns and The Cramps littered the freeway after we were done with it. After I felt enough time had passed so a call was placed and soon again we were off on a different freeway this time though.
Upon our arrival at the Green St. parking structure we decided not to join them at a table at Wokano's but rather more a couple more rounds at the good old 35er. Lots of good times have been had there. Up to this point I had a great buzz going, so I ordered my usual two extra stiff 7'7's. As I was paying I noticed that Saul had ventured off to score some of the popcorn that is readily available to all drunks who stumble in looking for a final drink and a warm seat. As I turn my head back to make sure my change was coming I see those two seats that conjure up so many memories that reek havoc on my psyche. the moment was quick but it still shook me down to the core.
Luckily Saul had made his way back by then or I really would be stuck on that one all night. We decided to meet Robert for drinks at Wokano's and we entered through the back this time. (Who knew they had a back entrance.) I saw him in that crowded closet that they call a dance area slash bar. Scene was full of the young, beautiful and highly snooty. Every male was all bro'd out drinking their Coronas and every female doing their best to look like the cheap attention grabbing trashy celebutantes that they so desperately crave to be. Point being I hated this place. I fought my way to the bar to get an awful putrid watered down apple juice that they call a 7'7. At this time the cheap music and horrid atmosphere was beginning to weigh we down. I was trying to gather everyone so I could recommend we that we leave, but then I heard a comment that made me laugh: "Did you see that guy's pomp? It's HUGE!
Clearly a sign that I was sticking out like a sore thumb. Good old pomp. Always nice to be the oddball/underdog.Miraculously the bar turns all the lights on. Bailed out by the time of night. After a stop somewhere off Central for some great Tacos, the Brandy was cracked.
Memory becomes fuzzy after that. I needed a night like this. After that comment I think back on how many times my hair and how I do it becomes a conversation starter. I've been in the oddest of places and it still catches everyone's eye. I am terrible with names but sometimes I will be at random places ranging from a King's hockey game to the bay area and I still get greeted with :"Hey, you're that guy with the pomp" or "I knew it was you Mike, when I saw your hair." It reminds me that no matter what happens I will probably be remembered as "the guy with the pomp". And strangely enough, I think I am fine with that. It's nice to be different.
We decided to kill sometime on the strip seeing as we didn't wanna show up early and look like jerks.The bottle was cracked open and the night truly began. A mixture of bad puns and The Cramps littered the freeway after we were done with it. After I felt enough time had passed so a call was placed and soon again we were off on a different freeway this time though.
Upon our arrival at the Green St. parking structure we decided not to join them at a table at Wokano's but rather more a couple more rounds at the good old 35er. Lots of good times have been had there. Up to this point I had a great buzz going, so I ordered my usual two extra stiff 7'7's. As I was paying I noticed that Saul had ventured off to score some of the popcorn that is readily available to all drunks who stumble in looking for a final drink and a warm seat. As I turn my head back to make sure my change was coming I see those two seats that conjure up so many memories that reek havoc on my psyche. the moment was quick but it still shook me down to the core.
Luckily Saul had made his way back by then or I really would be stuck on that one all night. We decided to meet Robert for drinks at Wokano's and we entered through the back this time. (Who knew they had a back entrance.) I saw him in that crowded closet that they call a dance area slash bar. Scene was full of the young, beautiful and highly snooty. Every male was all bro'd out drinking their Coronas and every female doing their best to look like the cheap attention grabbing trashy celebutantes that they so desperately crave to be. Point being I hated this place. I fought my way to the bar to get an awful putrid watered down apple juice that they call a 7'7. At this time the cheap music and horrid atmosphere was beginning to weigh we down. I was trying to gather everyone so I could recommend we that we leave, but then I heard a comment that made me laugh: "Did you see that guy's pomp? It's HUGE!
Clearly a sign that I was sticking out like a sore thumb. Good old pomp. Always nice to be the oddball/underdog.Miraculously the bar turns all the lights on. Bailed out by the time of night. After a stop somewhere off Central for some great Tacos, the Brandy was cracked.
Memory becomes fuzzy after that. I needed a night like this. After that comment I think back on how many times my hair and how I do it becomes a conversation starter. I've been in the oddest of places and it still catches everyone's eye. I am terrible with names but sometimes I will be at random places ranging from a King's hockey game to the bay area and I still get greeted with :"Hey, you're that guy with the pomp" or "I knew it was you Mike, when I saw your hair." It reminds me that no matter what happens I will probably be remembered as "the guy with the pomp". And strangely enough, I think I am fine with that. It's nice to be different.
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