Last night I went out to the Turbonegro/Mondo Generator show at Black Cat, here in DC. Great fucking show - I told y'all to catch this tour in Chicago back on the 19th, for your sake, I hope you went.
The show was good, but I was a wreck - That fucking smoking ban is gonna kill me. Literally. Here's the deal; You have to smoke outside, but you can't bring any drinks outside, so before you can go out for a smoke you have to slam your beer. I spent the whole night slamming beers. Everything gets kinda blurry after 10PM.
Here's what I sorta remember: Bands rock; almost get into fight with another drunk fuck; decide to take quick nap on sacks of wood chips at the garden supply shop around the corner; more drinkin'; Wake up in my underwear in front of my computer waiting for the new Woot to come up; give up - go to bed.
Stupid smoking ban.
Showing posts with label drinking stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drinking stories. Show all posts
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Back Home & Almost Sober
I'm back in DC now. The IL adventure is over and I've got 10 straight days of drinkin' stories to show for it.
I still need to get a wrap-up of the Naked Raygun show up here - Look for it tomorrow when the world stops spinning.
I still need to get a wrap-up of the Naked Raygun show up here - Look for it tomorrow when the world stops spinning.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Alcoholidaze
Man, oh man, oh Manischewitz. It's been a hell of a time back in IL.
I've got drinking stories from the four corners of the Chicagoland region. I've decided to wait to post-up an Illinois drinkin' wrap-up once I get back to DC, so if you want to hear any of 'em early you're gonna have to meet me for a beer.
Here's my tentative drinking schedule:
Round 6 - Tonight @ Annex
Round 7 - Thursday in the 'Burbs
Round 8 - Friday @ Chicago
Round 9 - Saturday @ Chicago or D-Town
Round 10 - Sunday @ T.B.D.
I've got drinking stories from the four corners of the Chicagoland region. I've decided to wait to post-up an Illinois drinkin' wrap-up once I get back to DC, so if you want to hear any of 'em early you're gonna have to meet me for a beer.
Here's my tentative drinking schedule:
Round 6 - Tonight @ Annex
Round 7 - Thursday in the 'Burbs
Round 8 - Friday @ Chicago
Round 9 - Saturday @ Chicago or D-Town
Round 10 - Sunday @ T.B.D.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Sebadoh @ 9:30 Club, DC 4/3/07
Headed out to to the Sebadoh show last night. That was exactly what I needed - A great fucking rock show to get the blood a-flowin'. The couple of shows I've been to this year have been okay, but nothing that has gotten me all riled up.The Bent Moustache, an indie-noise band from the Netherlands, opened and were pretty damned good.
Sebadoh flat-out ROCKED it. They played a load of stuff off of their early Sub-Pop releases, and really got back to the 'wall of noise' sound. I heard a bunch of tracks that I never would have expected to hear live, and they split the vocal duties pretty evenly between Lou, Jason, and Eric.
They missed a few of my favorites, but the set was truly impressive. I'm so glad I decided to head out to see these guys again.
I'm markedly less glad regarding my decisions following the show.
I ran into a bunch of drinkin' buddies at the show, and we decided to head down to Black Cat for a good old drinking grudge match. Shots were plentiful.
Everything is real fucking hazy after that. I (sorta) remember puking into a urinal after a shot of Jameson's and falling into the bathtub once I got home. Classy.
I woke up this morning sprawled out on the couch with my pants around my ankles. Also, (somehow) I ended up with a big fucking bag of ill-gotten potting soil out on my front porch.
All hail Drinky Josh, dirt-bandit extraordinaire.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Well Hung Over
Oh, holy shit, I'm in bad shape today.
I went out last night for the first time in a month - Since the DC smoking ban went into effect, I've been perfectly content to stay at home where the booze is finer, the music is better, the lines for the toilet are shorter, and where I don't have to go outside for a smoke.
Well, last night I went out in full force and had my ass totally handed to me. I met up with a buddy for a lunch, had some Thai food and a few Singha lagers, ran a couple of errands, then decided to catch a movie (Children of Men) before the bar opened. I hit the bar at about 5PM, and started right in on the drinkin'.
I figured that I'd only be out for a few drinks and head home early, so I abandoned my tried & true hard-drinking strategy of grabbing some food first, and sticking to Bud bottles. By drinking Bud I sacrifice some taste, but am able to accurately gauge my alcohol intake, which is handy if you're pounding 'em down. I started drinking Maredsous 10s on an empty stomach, and was pretty loaded before I even started in on the shot regiment.
7 or 8 shots and god-knows how many beers later - It was after midnight, I was loaded, and I had been talked into heading out to Georgetown to continue drinking. Okay, It should be noted here that I HATE Georgetown with a burning passion, and haven't gone out there in over 3 years. I don't do Georgetown, but there I was pounding down high-alcohol Belgian Abbey Pub Ale in some yuppie bar. This is where I started to get feisty. I spent all of my energy between sips (and smoke breaks) trying to goad my friends into asinine socio-political arguments. It apparently worked, because I made one person cry, 2 people left, and I got a drink thrown in my face - It must have been one hell of a rant. I then decided to slam the 2 bottles of ale in front of me, get the hell out of Georgetown, and head back to the other bar. Halfway through the first bottle I got a throat full of foam, and then proceeded to vomit into my left shirt pocket and all over my cigarettes. Charming. We get kicked out of the bar, my friends go to grab some food, and I decide to call it a night and head home.
At this point, it's 3:00 in the AM, and I'm wandering through Georgetown trying to get a cab to take me to the Northern edge of the DC city limits. All I remember about this point in the night, is accidentally stumbling onto some crime-scene while trying to find a place to take a leak, and being shooed-off by the DCPD. It took 45 minutes out in the bitter cold (with approximately a dozen cabs refusing the fare) before I snagged a cab that was willing to take me up to Takoma (for the bargain-basement price of twice the regular fare).
I figured that I should eat something before passing out, so I had the cabbie drop me off at the 7-11. This is a horrible idea. Every time I'm loaded, I end up getting a couple of Spicy Jamaican Beef Patties. They're damned tasty when you're loaded (and surprisingly spicy), but will wreak havoc with your digestive tract. For some (stupid, stupid, stupid) reason I decided to only get ONE beef patty, and offset it with a 'Spicy Bite' chili dog with hot pepper relish and piled with jalapenos (damn you, condiment bar).
I got home, threw my clothes in the wash, took a shower, ate my plate of death-food, and went to sleep on the couch (to avoid the wrath of The Girl).
This morning I woke up and felt like somebody went to town on me with a Deer-E-Ere. I was hurtin' from esophagus to asshole. All day long, I've been moaning on the couch while my innards make noises usually only heard from backwoods moonshine stills.
Now, It's almost 24 hours later and I'm still wrecked. I've been pounding Mallox and Alka-Seltzer all day and my guts are still in full-revolt. I've tried everything to shake this (included an ill-advised hair-of-the-dog offensive), but am still praying for death.
Next time I go out, I'm hiring a chaperon. And, as soon as I'm able, I'm gonna slip the night clerk at the 7-11 a hundred bucks to promise never to sell me spicy food after midnight ever again. It will be money well-spent - I'm considering it 'idiot insurance', cuz I are dumb as hell.
I went out last night for the first time in a month - Since the DC smoking ban went into effect, I've been perfectly content to stay at home where the booze is finer, the music is better, the lines for the toilet are shorter, and where I don't have to go outside for a smoke.
Well, last night I went out in full force and had my ass totally handed to me. I met up with a buddy for a lunch, had some Thai food and a few Singha lagers, ran a couple of errands, then decided to catch a movie (Children of Men) before the bar opened. I hit the bar at about 5PM, and started right in on the drinkin'.
I figured that I'd only be out for a few drinks and head home early, so I abandoned my tried & true hard-drinking strategy of grabbing some food first, and sticking to Bud bottles. By drinking Bud I sacrifice some taste, but am able to accurately gauge my alcohol intake, which is handy if you're pounding 'em down. I started drinking Maredsous 10s on an empty stomach, and was pretty loaded before I even started in on the shot regiment.
7 or 8 shots and god-knows how many beers later - It was after midnight, I was loaded, and I had been talked into heading out to Georgetown to continue drinking. Okay, It should be noted here that I HATE Georgetown with a burning passion, and haven't gone out there in over 3 years. I don't do Georgetown, but there I was pounding down high-alcohol Belgian Abbey Pub Ale in some yuppie bar. This is where I started to get feisty. I spent all of my energy between sips (and smoke breaks) trying to goad my friends into asinine socio-political arguments. It apparently worked, because I made one person cry, 2 people left, and I got a drink thrown in my face - It must have been one hell of a rant. I then decided to slam the 2 bottles of ale in front of me, get the hell out of Georgetown, and head back to the other bar. Halfway through the first bottle I got a throat full of foam, and then proceeded to vomit into my left shirt pocket and all over my cigarettes. Charming. We get kicked out of the bar, my friends go to grab some food, and I decide to call it a night and head home.
At this point, it's 3:00 in the AM, and I'm wandering through Georgetown trying to get a cab to take me to the Northern edge of the DC city limits. All I remember about this point in the night, is accidentally stumbling onto some crime-scene while trying to find a place to take a leak, and being shooed-off by the DCPD. It took 45 minutes out in the bitter cold (with approximately a dozen cabs refusing the fare) before I snagged a cab that was willing to take me up to Takoma (for the bargain-basement price of twice the regular fare).
I figured that I should eat something before passing out, so I had the cabbie drop me off at the 7-11. This is a horrible idea. Every time I'm loaded, I end up getting a couple of Spicy Jamaican Beef Patties. They're damned tasty when you're loaded (and surprisingly spicy), but will wreak havoc with your digestive tract. For some (stupid, stupid, stupid) reason I decided to only get ONE beef patty, and offset it with a 'Spicy Bite' chili dog with hot pepper relish and piled with jalapenos (damn you, condiment bar).
I got home, threw my clothes in the wash, took a shower, ate my plate of death-food, and went to sleep on the couch (to avoid the wrath of The Girl).
This morning I woke up and felt like somebody went to town on me with a Deer-E-Ere. I was hurtin' from esophagus to asshole. All day long, I've been moaning on the couch while my innards make noises usually only heard from backwoods moonshine stills.
Now, It's almost 24 hours later and I'm still wrecked. I've been pounding Mallox and Alka-Seltzer all day and my guts are still in full-revolt. I've tried everything to shake this (included an ill-advised hair-of-the-dog offensive), but am still praying for death.
Next time I go out, I'm hiring a chaperon. And, as soon as I'm able, I'm gonna slip the night clerk at the 7-11 a hundred bucks to promise never to sell me spicy food after midnight ever again. It will be money well-spent - I'm considering it 'idiot insurance', cuz I are dumb as hell.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
The Liar -vs- The Alaskan Polar Bear Heater
A comment from Bill a couple of posts ago laid out the recipe for an "Alaskan Polar Bear Heater". Despite Ed's (emphatic) warnings, I decided to make one and film the results for posterity. Here it is:
It totally tastes like bitters-soaked ass. I drank the whole thing, nonetheless.
Big thanks go out to The Girl for doing camera duty - Look for her finger in a reappearing cameo throughout.
It totally tastes like bitters-soaked ass. I drank the whole thing, nonetheless.
Big thanks go out to The Girl for doing camera duty - Look for her finger in a reappearing cameo throughout.
Friday, December 15, 2006
MOTO Rockin'
Last night the crew headed down to the Hideout for the MOTO show. MOTO was awesome (as usual) and the opener Das Kapital (Marc Ruvolo's new band) was pretty fucking good. Saw a bunch of people I haven't seen in a while and got my mandatory fill of the rock.
After the show, we headed out to Exit for psychobilly night. All I remember is wandering out of there at 4am and heading to the liquor store up on Belmont.
Somehow, I managed to drown yesterday's hang-over in Old Styles and Jager shots, and this morning I'm good as new. Tonight is Quatre Tete at Empty Bottle, and I'm already rarin' to go.
Everything's coming up Millhouse.
After the show, we headed out to Exit for psychobilly night. All I remember is wandering out of there at 4am and heading to the liquor store up on Belmont.
Somehow, I managed to drown yesterday's hang-over in Old Styles and Jager shots, and this morning I'm good as new. Tonight is Quatre Tete at Empty Bottle, and I'm already rarin' to go.
Everything's coming up Millhouse.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Christ(on-a-crutch)mas Party
I'm dying here. Last night was Miss Elise's annual holiday blow-out. I think I blew-out my frontal-lobe.
It was a night of liquor, tracksuits, liquor, turducken, liquor, malicious biting, liquor, and liquor. I learned that Croatian moonshine doesn't mix well with champagne. I learned that Algerians find endless amusement in ladies lighting farts. I learned that if you get your cervix cut out, you get a Prada bag. I learned that Gavin is flammable, but Albert is not. It was a night of learning. Okay, I learned nothing, but had one hell of a time.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to vomit (again).
It was a night of liquor, tracksuits, liquor, turducken, liquor, malicious biting, liquor, and liquor. I learned that Croatian moonshine doesn't mix well with champagne. I learned that Algerians find endless amusement in ladies lighting farts. I learned that if you get your cervix cut out, you get a Prada bag. I learned that Gavin is flammable, but Albert is not. It was a night of learning. Okay, I learned nothing, but had one hell of a time.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to vomit (again).
Suparna and Elise rock the Hip-hopera velour tracksuits.
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