Friday, March 30, 2007

Photo Essay #6: Luchy, Luchi, Luche!

SO YOU WANT TO BE A LUCHADOR. This is understandable. Where to begin? So many options, so many requirements! I'll tell you this right now--start from the beginning. And the beginning, as any true Luchador will tell you, is beading the rattail. This, my friends, is why you NEVER CUT YOUR RATTAIL. Make jokes about it, sure, just don't cut it. Otherwise, you won't be able do attain this:

What's next? We all know what's coming. Say it with me! Quality Domestic Beer.

Next! The Lucha mask is mandatory. The tougher-looking, the better.

Then come the capes and spandex, and photo-poses. Without a quality photo-pose, what are you going to be doing when someone takes a photo? Just standing there?

Here's another example of a good photo-pose.

And one more:

What is being a Luchador, I ask, without the wrestling? It is only posturing! Decide on a signature move, and name it. Preferably, the name of the move will be related to the sound your beaded-up rattail makes, and it will look good on your cape.

That's onomatopoeia, y'all.

Next, find a transient and practice your signature move on him.

Then do some more photo-posing.

And some more. Photo-posing, you may have noticed, is vital to the Luchador experience.

As is running around with one's cape flapping in the wind.

And at the end, all that is left is the piñata. True Luchadores forego the piñata stick and just rip the thing open with their bare, deadly hands.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

The Rites of Spring

Spring brings nice weather, when it really comes, and that means exercise! Usually, you should start off slow. Maybe take a nice leisurely bike ride around the monuments in our nation's capitol; use your new pedals! They allow your feet to stick to them. It is AMAZING.

After warming up, you can try something requiring a little more exertion. Like streetball! Spalding makes balls particularly for playing in the street. Can't check me!

Finally, you're probably ready for something a little more full-contact. At this point, you should probably come up with a good Spanish nickname (see below), and start constructing a costume. You're ready to become a Luchador.

After all, you already have the shoes. (Check back soon for the application of said costumes.)

Saturday, March 24, 2007

Photo Essay #5: The Cuttery of a Well-Haired Gentleman

Every once in a while, it becomes necessary to trim one's hair. Seriously. Especially when 75% of one's head is covered in it. Today was one of those days. Here's how to document the activity!

1. First, take a picture of yourself before cutting your hair.

2. Be sure to include all areas to be cut, including beards and rat tails.

3. During the process, take a picture. It's what they call an "in-progress" shot. It is vital.

4. Proceed cutting.

5. Throw the audience a curve. Tell them that in fact the rat tail WAS NOT cut! Ha, ha! No, of course it wasn't. That would be a stupid. I mean, who doesn't love the attention a rat tail brings? I can hear the fellows in the neighborhood now: "Hey Deffo! Rat tail is looking silky, my man! Keep it up!" If you cut it, what would the fellows say? Nothing, that's what.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Photo Essay #4: Regarding Red Lobster™ and its Cheesy Drop Biscuits(™)

M's birthday was last Wednesday, and she naturally wanted to celebrate by joining friends and family at our neighborhood Red Lobster™. This is an entirely natural compulsion, I say. Red Lobster makes people feel good about themselves. Just look: when the day began, I was on my deathbed:

Then something reminded me of the fact that I was engaged to eat at Red Lobsterthat evening, and my body revived almost immediately.

I grabbed a big hunk of money ($83 is preferable--don't forget the BahamaMamas you'll be downing),

and hopped in the ol' minivan with the gang.

How exciting! There are MULTIPLE MENUS. Do you want to order from Red Lobster's 365-day menu? Go for it! Walt's Fried Shrimpcome out right every time. Say hello! More friends are arriving!

Want Shrimp Scampi? It's gonna be delicious! Wanna Scampi something else? Just let your server know. They can Scampi ANYTHING. After all, it's LOBSTERFEST! No, no, Joe! You don't eat the LOBSTERFEST menu! You eat the products described therein, like Ameripure Oysters. Silly, hungry vegans!

Yes, kind server! Thank you for asking! We will have two domestic beers. One from each competitor, please! No playing favorites here! We should be fine for the next 20 minutes. Ah, screw it. Don't worry about coming back!

OOH! They leave you reading material now! Equal is one clever brand, I've always said. Ban the Bland. GOLD! The wait is anything but bland!

Three baskets of Cheesy Garlic Drop Biscuits (you should add a to that, Red Lobster! Mark my words!) and one hour later, hoo boy, I'm ready for some Steak n' Shrimp! Hits the spot, thanks!

So does that LobsterTail!

Hoo! Look at that belly!

Aw. They brought a complimentary piece of Chocolate Wave Cake! LET'S DEVOUR IT.

That's one happy birthday girl!

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Photo Essay #3: Anatomy of St. Patrick's Day (Other Side of the Bar Edition)

In the world of drinking for sport, a few days a year are sacred: New Year's Eve, Fat Tuesday, July 4th--but the ultimate, the one day a year where drinking is done purely for drinking's sake, to honor the act of drinking and being drunk, is St. Patrick's Day. New Year's Eve is for amateurs, you say? I beg to differ. St. Patrick's day was made for amateurs. Here's a few guidelines for the evening:

1. In my personal bar lexicon, I consider St. Patrick's a day of mourning. So proper attire is required.

2. Bar owners: People are not spendthrifts. Take advantage of this fact! Just because domestic bottles are always $3.75 doesn't mean that they aren't special. Really, they're always special! Point out this normal special price, with the words "St. Patty's" and "Special" prominently displayed on an 8.5 x 11 sheet of paper.

3. Drunks: Remember, the whole thing is about drinking. Not socializing or excitement or something else stupid and pointless. DRINKING. So here are some tips to make it go smoothly. (1) Dude who wants food really bad: When you want to order food (waste of money anyway~doesn't help you get drunk at all), the best way to do so is to wave the menu in my face while I'm making six drinks at once. If that doesn't work, wait until I'm not looking at you, or my back is turned, and say something like "Hey. Hey. HEY! Can I get a bacon cheeseburger PLEASE?" When I tell you that you need to wait until I'm done DOING OTHER THINGS, make sure you huff and slump down in your seat. After all, you've been waiting for THREE MINUTES. When I ask you what you want, roll your eyes and sigh. This will ensure prompt, quality service, especially considering the fact that I am still in the middle of making that order for 42 car bombs that just came in. Finally, once the order is placed, make sure to fall asleep on your bar stool.

(2) Big dude with booming voice: Hey, bro! I get it! You can stand at any part of the bar and I'll hear your order. So why don't you just yell what you want from 30 feet away. Better yet, just yell drinks as your friends tell you what they want. Don't worry if I'm not even behind the bar. Just order away--they'll get made and added to your tab. We remember your name. Don't even worry about reminding us; you, sir, are memorable.

Finally, (3) Girl who's ready to party: Make sure to order all the Irish favorites. Green Red Bull & Vodka, Green Jager Bombs, Green Blue Moon Belgian White, my favorite Green fruity shot--they're time-tested libations that go down smoothly, one after the other. Or mixed! Keep ordering them! Seriously--KEEP ORDERING THEM. Another green shot of tequila? Coming right up! Want something else to be green? Got it! Green Green Green! And when you realize that you can't form a complete sentence anymore, don't worry about it. Hang out, keep drinking. It's St. Patrick's Day, for God's sake! You have won. You have reached the pinnacle. Sign your credit card slip with your left hand, because you've forgotten which one you write with. Leave the bartender $~~H"/^ for a tip on your $80 bill. Jibberish tips are what we live for.

4. Whew, the night is over. That ruled. Pour yourself a Guinness. It's what you've wanted to do since 10:30.

5. Watch barbacks clean up piles of green shit mixed with piles of possibly organic material. Laugh at them. Suckers.

6. Count the money, which very well might eclipse the GNP of a small country. Forget this fact as soon as you think it.

7. Drink bourbon. Keep waiting for barbacks to do the things they do, whatever it is.

8. Woo! All done! A successful night. No one died of alcohol poisoning. Only a moderate amount of vomit was vomited. Now to get on your bike in the freezing-ass cold of 6:30am.

Seriously, it's like 28 degrees. That is a bummer.

10. But at least the sun is coming up. That way, you won't be able to fall asleep for like six more hours. Yesss!

And that's the night.

(BONUS TIP: If you wait until the day after St. Patrick's, Fish & Chips is still just as delicious, and much less crowded. Plus, you won't vomit it up three hours later.)

Friday, March 16, 2007

This is Friday. Remember Sunday?

Sunday was a beautiful day. It was the introduction of Spring! We were all happy. We sat outside with friends. The horror of winter was behind us. Oh--and it was all a LIE. My widgets tell me so. Look.

Luckily for me, the dryer in our house quit drying things this week. So after two days of unsuccessful attempts at tumble drying a load of laundry to some semblance of dryness, I bit the bullet: I would go to the laundromat.

So I did what any other self-respecting person would do in the same situation. I rented a Volvo S40 from Zipcar for an hour and a half, drove my bag of laundry three blocks to the laundromat, put it in the dryer, and sat in the car listening to talk radio.

In other news, my bracket isn't looking all that great. I did pick Winthrop to beat Notre Dame, though.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

This is Tuesday

In lieu of a decent deli in the neighborhood (yes, there is So's Your Mom, but it's all uphill and shit), Whole Foods is the only option. Please, some aspiring entrepreneur who loves cured meats, hear our plea: open a goddammed deli south of U St. Please.

Oh, and also: since moving to DC in September 2002, I have always lived below ground. UNTIL NOW. THIS RULES. Cat loves it too.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Photo Essay #2: Of the First Barbeque of the Season.

We got an extra hour of sunlight yesterday (the government can legislate TIME?!?), which required us to have a barbecue. Here is a brief checklist of recommendations for having a successful first barbecue of the season:

1. Have beautiful, cloudless day.

2. Purchase party balloon. Preferably pirate-related.

3. Put on your new shoes.

4. Cook up all the bacon in your fridge. Eat only 2 or 3 slices while cooking.

5. Tunes! Barbecues need tunes. Preferably vinyl. Include Debbie Gibson and the Dead Boys, if possible.

5. Get friend to bring you enormous steak.

6. Eat ribs like an animal.

7. Feed cheese-injected hotdog to vegetarian. Try to photograph the incident, realize that camera cannot comprehend the event. Post blurry photo anyway.

8. Adjourn to bar with photobooth. Take session with friends, and one by yourself. Everyone needs to take photobooth pictures by themselves once in their life. Or once a week.

9. Walk back home. It is nighttime. Only stay awake for six more hours. Repeat next week.