this weak in beer

yesterday the bastard and his ladyfriend went to a birthday party downtown.

after last week's tragic beer test in the office, killing stuff put the results online which prompted some very interesting comments. i was also highly disappointed that the hop devil was not mentioned in the piece. :-/

one of which spoke very highly of goose island's honkers ale. our birthday establishment carried the ipa so the bastard was down.

and it was good. so was the whiskey soaked burger.

—the bastard

this hurts the bastard's eyes

walking down the street and i saw this.


and it was just awful.


now that bastard is a big proponent of multiple use furniture for small spaces. hell, he's a proponent of trying to get as much out of your small space as possible (not very good at practicing how to deal with small spaces.

but this hurts my eyes.

—the bastard

...on rodentia

on my walk to work this morning, i had seen the union thug rat in front of 375 park south. i hadn't seen the rat in quite some time. i wonder who isn't using union labor there. then the bastard remembered that he's rather think about how much he'd like coffee and an apple fritter.

so i took care of that thought instead. this story had a happy ending.

—the bastard

...on experts

so this is how the bastard spent his friday.

about three weeks ago, killing stuff monthly's web producer sent an email around asking everyone what their favorite summer beer was.

it is in these instances, that we discover the magic that is the reply all button.

Ha — BUSCH LIGHT, WOOOOOO My favorite beer, year-round, is Chimay Blue. Dark, rich Belgian ale. Brewed by Trappist monks and sold in a manly 750 mL corked bottle. Tons of complex flavor. Smooth finish. I’ve never met anyone who likes beer and didn’t love this. Most “summer ales” are lemony wuss drinks.

the editor who has been web crazy of late, followed up with

We need to do a beer tasting before summer is out. Let’s plan a Friday afternoon. Everybody bring a 6-pack and we’ll do a tasting. Maybe shoot some pics for the Web site.

so the bastard and his trusty managing editor brought our contribution to the table in the form of widmer hefeweizer from me and victory hop devil from rob which we have renamed "the mother fucking hop devil" because it IS the fucking devil.

needless to say, the afternoon didn't end well for the bastard. it came down to myself, killing stuff's copy chief and the p-cat finishing up the remainders. after this, the bastard surfaced from his lunchless drinking session with the bright idea of getting lunch at 5pm with a stomach full of beer. this also didn't end well as i tripped on my way out of the pizza place and broke a vase but for some reason, it escaped notice until i was in the clear.

nice and smooth.

good and drunk. i made it home.

good and nauseous.

passed out, the bastard gets a phone call from the chairman. good thing i still had my headphones still on so i didn't have to move as the world was still spinning at this point. 10 minutes later, i'm in the good ship chairman's ride and on my way yowards being rescued by mexican food. my aching skull.

—the bastard

wide load

excuse me ladies.

excuse me.

as much as i love being stuck behind slow moving assholes on my way to lunch,

i really don't.

so please move your fucking carcasses!

—the bastard

...on the thunder

the bastard is soooooooooo tired.

went to the movies last night.

saw tropic thunder.

it was quite possibly, the funniest thing i've seen all summer. and not just because robert downey junior was playing an australian actor posing as a black man who doesn't get out of character until he does the dvd commentary. it's because ben stiller knows how to make a funny film. he single handedly did a better job of making fun of the movie industry, making fun of actors, making fun of the inner workings of the film industry better than all of those stupid epic movie, superhero movie, disaster movie parodies (that all overuse the typeface futura and the color red in their posters) that traditionally plague the summer box office. even the smallest part gets a good line.

also he pretty much saves tom cruise's career. the bastard has to say it was probably some of his finest work....EVER.

but here's the thing. because of the chairman's work schedule, we saw the late show. and i kept waking up all night for one reason or another. and while i didn't drink a drop last night, i feel hung over.

and i feel like crap. and i don't think coffee can save me now. time to die.

—the bastard

man, this is WHISKEY!

so i'm running late today.

mostly because i was delayed by my updating iphone.

what can the bastard say? sometimes we are beholden to our technology.

anyway, i decide that since it's gone up 10 degrees that the bus was the better option.

and folks mill on and i suddenly smell whiskey.

so the bastard starts looking around for some hung over old guy. someone who looks like he's been on a bender but, no luck.

but the smell won't go away and i realize it's the young couple next to me.

ok

i'm only going to say this once. there is NO REASON for young people to smell like whiskey in the morning. it's just fucked up. what are you? the two most fashionably dressed hobos in new york? what the hell? it's just wrong. fucking dogs'll start playing poker and pigs'll fly! it'll be anarchy and whiskey smelling kids!

—the bastard

...on geekdom

the bastard is such a fucking geek.

and a hypocrit too.

maybe just a little bit.

a little while ago, i was just picking on chicago jerkface's yen for playing axis and allies and he's looking for an online way of playing it. it's like this, every year, he goes back to the hinterland along the illinois/wisconsin border to get liquored up and play axis and allies with his brothers. so he's looking for a better way.


i roll in and watch him work and he complains about the internet in the office of late. the bastard concurs stating that he was looking on the i tunes store because he had heard that the bbc had released 14 classic episodes of doctor who on the i tunes store and how slow the online store is and then it hit me. man, i am such a geek. as a quick sidenote to the mofo, i couldn't find a decent image of jon pertwee throwing hands either so i had to settle for this one. there isn't alot of call for venusian aikido these days. still and all, i might break the budget and download some of this classic geekdom for my subway ride.

—the bastard

...dispatch

running late today.

got the express.

which is good.

but some crazy lady next to me spent the whole ride (or at least until queens plaza), jamming crackers into her pie hole.

collective shudder. well at least she wasn't eating fried chicken or some other kind of finger food. then i'd have to....well...do nothing really or maybe write something clever about it.

—the bastard

...on 93 dollars

...or was it on introspection.


took care of closing the joint account i used to have when i was married. i mean the money hasn't been ours for a long time but still and all, it's introspective to close off another piece of your past. but the bastard is ok.

—the bastard

...on parking

real quick.

on line at the store and i can see my car from the check out.

and this goofball pulls in.

looked normal enough.

but i came out, and saw this.

i mean really, what the hell do you need this badly that you need to park like this.

—the bastard

you know...

have you ever had one of those days where you wonder why the hell you're sitting at your desk?

yeah, me too.

i mean the staff isn't here. i've assigned all of my work for the moment.

illos for two features.

photos are taken care of.

i just can't get out of the chair of my own power now.

i gotta get outta here.

—the bastard

wandering

so,

once upon a time there was this boy.

and the boy had a bad go of it. or so he thought.

he then grew up to be a man who thought he had a rough go of it.

and for a few minutes, he might have.

but then he realized that he worries too much about the small shit. it obscures his vision of more important shit.

you see, he got a good talking to this morning about how he might be walking backwards but, it's not all of it. he doesn't think he's walking backwards. he's walking forward.

it's what he always wanted to do. just fucking walk forward. and in doing so, he realized that he forgot that he used to let small things piss him off. he had a temper tantrum about it. and then he got spoken to.

he got told he was a lucky man.

luckier than his friends.

luckier than his family.

luckier than the people that he's left behind.

luckier than alot of folks.

and he is. and he will be. he just has to be good to himself.

and the boy looked out his window and he let the light in. granted, it's fucking overcast out but it felt a lot better. and he thought to himself, i'll try to be good to myself. thanks.

and the boy might not live happily ever after but at least he tried. the end.

—the bastard

rain's stopped

now if only the bastard can get rid of that sinking feeling as well.

or

maybe he should get some frikkin dinner.

what a concept.

have you ever had the reoccuring feeling that you are both the hero and the villain in this tragedy?

yeah, me too.

—the bastard

...on the downpour

spent some of this afternoon in the photo studio, making the book look good.

now it's pissing out.

good thing i brought am umbrella.

the bastard always brings an umbrella.

when he's got the bag, he's got what he needs.

sure hope the hammers of hell don't rain on forest hills.

the bastard ain't going home tonight.

and he doesn't want to come home and find a puddle in his living room tomorrow.

best piece of advice i ever got was,

get renters insurance stupid.

bring it rain. fucking bring it. and wash all the shit down the drain.

—the bastard

...on werewolves

...or walking the streets of soho in the rain


on sunday we were invited out to have lunch with my ladyfriend's sister in law (or rather he sister's sister in law i guess but, you get the picture) and she just moved to a tiny room in soho.

her brother in law, said to me at one time during the day that we were just like the europeans today.

"tourists in our own city", he elaborated, "eating and shopping"

it struck me funny. because we had all collectively not been down to this part of town for quite some time. and it's different. my ladyfriend used to live here a long time ago when there was a bodega downstairs from her. now it's a french restaurant. you can also walk two blocks over and shop at dolce e gabbana. it's cleaned up alot. safer. better place to take your kids. more expensive, like everything else in this city.

i saw this valiant in my travels and the overpriced sportscar couldn't have been better timed. it made the photo really. tragic or magic? i completely understand why all those crusty old fucks in the lower east side are complaining about the rich but not enough to get on board. there is a fine line between dissent and cliche these days.

later on in the afternoon, it started raining and we mulled the bourgeois notion of grabbing a cab, or buying a 15 dollar umbrella but, we just booked it to the subway and headed back to her place to get my gear.

—the bastard

life's a beach...

...then you get a flat tire

so the bastard spent his saturday with his ladyfriend at long beach...unwinding. well it was intended to be unwinding. and the notion of taking our little fold up bikes was a capital idea. until on the fourth pass, my tired started to go flat.

well let me back up. i also seem to have the uncanny luck of parking as far away as possible most of the time, not intentionally but, it always seems to end up that way.


so i had to truck back to my car. well, first i had to find it. then give my ladyfriend back her bike and truck back to the car, where we got our beach stuff. and this worked out for us for most of the rest of the day until these characters showed up. the bastard took one look at these three clowns and their covertly/notso covertly covered 30 pack of budweiser and three cups from 7 lebben. my ladyfriend told me not to worry about it. one hour later after returning from the bathroom, my ladyfriend was in agreement with my earlier desire to skip out. "it wouldn't be so bad if they didn't start and finish every sentence with "pussy", she told me. then we were off. it seemed like we were escaping an episode of douchebag beach at just the right time.

nice and smooth

—the bastard

...on the swerve

so, the bastard nearly ran a jeep grand cherokee off the road tonight. on foot.

yes.

on foot.

it went like this. i was taking down my garbage and i figured i would return my copy of in bruges to netflix. so i walk across the street. to be fair, metropolitan avenue can be the arena of the foolish. while i walked across, a motorcycle was speeding west while some guy in a minivan was making a k turn. the bastard briefly pondered if the bike was going to hit him but then dismissed it as he became more preoccupied with the genius making the k-turn hitting me.

QUICK SIDEBAR: the bastard used to own this old buick which desperately needed to have it's brakes changed and i had blown a cylinder head. so it sounded like an old helicopter but that's not the point. anyway, i used this buick to get to school. one day, in the rain, i was stuck in traffic and i was behind this chevy cavalier (red) and because of the crap motor, i would have to punch the gas to move forward. i did and the buick (did i mention it was ENORMOUS AND RUSTED?) lurched forward into this cavalier. i slammed on the brakes but it was raining and by the way, the brakes failed and i dinged into this car. and i saw the look of horror on the poor girl who was driving the car as this happened (and her passenger as well). i got out and there was nothing. not a scratch. and i got back in and parked my car telling my passenger (it might have been that stranger i used to know who joined the coast guard) and said, i think i did them a favor. now they had all of the terror of a car accident withot the car accident. now they can drive like normal human beings. i might have also been complaining about their timid driving at the time.

OK back at the ranch: i'm walking back across the street and there is this cherokee screaming down the street. so i do my usual start across the street to sit on the double line to wait for said vehicle to pass. upon stopping on the double line, they start to swerve. i get worried. they right themselves and as tgey scream by they yell , "what are you doing?", at either myself or perhaps the driver that the bastard has already deduced was drunk. the bastard indicates this by exclaiming "drunk" in an audible tone to myself. but then i thought, maybe a truckload of girls might just be skittish, or ust not cut out for driving for i was a clean 6 feet away from where their vehicle would have passed me(10 after they swerved). i may be a big guy but, i'm not that big a bastard.

and whoever that was couldn't drive to save their life. oh well, at least they swerved away from me.

—the bastard

...on the well

...and how it's running dry.


ok it's like this.

nothing is going on.

the bastard finds himself out of material as august is about to get in full swing. and i've covered alot of the foibles that is traveling on mass transit around this time of year. and i fade in and out of massive bouts of exhaustion so, i'm out of material for now. when something happens, i'll throw it down. in the mean time, here is a picture of the fucking ocean. deal.

—the bastard

p.s. i'm also trying to get the bike on the road again. maybe i'll be successful this time. lord knows i try. or at least i try in the bastard's own half assed way.

..on giving up the ghost

occasionally, the bastard gets submissions from his wacky neighbor down the street, as he takes the long island railroad in the morning. some of us have their commute down to a better science than others. the bastard says this on the heels of a 10 minute walk to the office from his ladyfriend's house.

but anyway. tragic? or magic?

—the bastard

...on private shows

so the chairman and i went to go see hellboy 2 tonight and the bastard thinks that we're coming to the end of the film's run. up unitil 5 minutes before the trailers started, we were the only people in the theatre. still and all, it was pretty good. not as good as the first one but, still fun enough to fill the time.

then again after seeing the dark knight earlier this week, all other superhero movies look like dogshit. guess the bastard will have to see the watchmen next year to see the paradigm shift once more.

—the bastard

off topic: we didn't get a picture of him because the bastard thinks he was a vampire but, some crazy old vampire was chillin' on the hood of his car, surfing the internet on his laptop. fantastic.