ones and zeroes

Better living through modern chemistry.


empty stomach, PRB, drunken blog

I was going to change the "PRB" in the subject to its proper form as PBR, but it only goes to further illustrate that when all you've had all day from 8:30 to 6:45 is coffee, OJ, and a raspberry muffin, one Pabst down the hatch will do you dizzy. Cheers.

"blizzard" bitches

Perhaps you heard about this fabled "blizzard" over the weekend. Yes, you probably watched the snowflakes fall and fall as Saturday progressed, steadily downward and downward, piling up, giving us all high hopes for no school, no work, no cars, civilization on shutdown. Well, folks, following Sunday's most anticlimactic close to this "blizzard" (bah!), I now wish to rundown my top 3 Blizzard Bitches:

Blizzard Bitch #1:, for being way off the mark, as fucking usual.
Blizzard Bitch #2: Mayor Michael Bloomberg, for this:

"This really is a dangerous storm that is coming in," Bloomberg told reporters before the snow began falling at noon. "One of the forecasters compared it to the blizzard of '96, and it can be life threatening." In 1996, New York City received 20 inches of snow as records were shattered across the Northeast.

You asshole! Way to get me psyched for a paltry dusting of fluffy goodness.

Blizzard Bitch #3: Last but not least we have Matt Drudge of the infamous Drudge Report who, in usual tabloidesque fashion, had headlines liked "NYC: BIG CITY BURIED" and lied to millions of visitors to his webpage while I sat here looking out of Lucy's window Not buried. Not buried at all.

Anyway, though I was disappointed with the amount of snowfall, we made quite a weekend out of it. Saturday kicked off with many rousing bouts of Mario Power Tennis for GameCube, easily one of the best games I've ever spent time playing, ever. Jay didn't make it but we kicked his ass in spirit. While the snow continued to fall, Beach called Lucy out on one of the X-Mas gifts she'd given him: a promise to clean his entire apartment. So Lucy left, and at the same time Eileen came home, a pleasant surprise - she'd been let out of work at Dylan Prime early. Bringing 3 bottles of wine and a strong desire to see a good movie with her, she set the night up for its slambang finish. When Lucy returned the three of us played more Mario Tennis, then made our way over to Sapporo East where much Sapporo was drunk along with 2 steaming bowls of udon (Yasai and Niku, for those curious). Eileen and I also split a Dragon Roll (eel, cucumber, avocado draped on top) that easily, EASILY takes the cake as Single Freshest Sushi Roll I've Ever Eaten Ever Ever.

Fresh and full off our meal we sat down to a puff and some delicious chianti, popped Magnolia into the DVD player and sat down for an emotional thrill ride that led to tears slipping down my cheeks as Philip Seymour Hoffman made the bed of Earl Partridge, who'd just died. Philip Seymour Hoffman is every director's fantasy. Magnolia is Virginia Woolf's wet dream.

Once Sunday rolled around I was thoroughly annoyed that the snow had stopped falling. While weathermen had predicted continued snowfall through Sunday afternoon by the time I was up a little past noon the skies were silent and things had tapered off. Luckily, the Battle of the Birds turned out just the way that we'd hoped and the Eagles were headed to the Superbowl - unfortunately, no Pennsylvanian Subway Series could be hoped for as the Steelers sunk beneath the ridiculous passes of Tom Brady and the New England patriots. Damnit. New England's not even a state!

Once the games were over a famished trio of Lucy Eileen and Tumblehawk trudged their way through the shapeshifting slush to Boca Chica only to find it CLOSED! Motherfucker! Back it was all the way to 8th to trusty Yaffa Cafe, and the night found itself ending.

salut, sea ray, so long

On Friday, before any of this happened, we got to see a good, good show. Kicking off with Say Hi To Your Mom (Eric is our new friend), the Mercury Lounge was building up in energy as everyone anticipated the reason for the night at all - Sea Ray's last show. I'd only seen the band once before but I was definitely sad to see them go, ESPECIALLY following Friday night's performance. Following right after Mobius' Band performance (which I thought was solid, especially the vocals, something I've thought they needed to strengthen for a while), Sea Ray pretty much melted the crowd. The touching, moving nature of the show was simply palpable and there was nothing left to do but drink the night away. We shot the shit with Say Hi To My Eric for a while at the merch table, and looked pretty ready to go when Daylen was heading home, since Lucy and I live within a block of her. But then there was beer. And is good! So we drank it, and went home, and then everything you read about above this happened. Pretty trippy, huh? Nah, not really.


  • At 11:34 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    although ur posts are often lengthy and above my intelligence level, i still like reading them bc i get to read about what i did through someone else's words and it makes me feel almost famous... so how come no stories about my rendevous last night - not that it would make for interesting reading, but it would boost my confidence. haha. last night was random.


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