Finally, Boring Old People Are Agreeing WIth Me.

What do you call it again? The MSM?


YAWN OLD NEWS. coulda told you all this while downing my sixth MGD while watching her at the Verizon Center last year. Served.

Richmond: Baltimore of the South

We've been to Baltimore a million times in the past couple years, but never Richmond. Why? Because it's the capital of the South? No, the South rules. Because it's further away? Nobody cares about things like distance or time. It just boils down to laziness, people. We've been too lazy to give Richmond a chance. Those days are over.

On the way to Richmond or anywhere chances are you're going to want to stop and Dunkin' Donuts. This particular one that we went to not only didn't have any donuts, it didn't let us tip its employees:


Damn shame. Sorry, Quantico-area Dunkin' Donuts employees.

Anyway. You know when you have an idea in your head of what a place will be and then it doesn't live up to that mental picture? Richmond is not that place. Richmond is exactly like I thought it would be. Or at least the hotel was:



When the hotel calls for it, sometimes a murder has to happen. Plus, Joe is super accident-prone so it's easy to call it an accident.


Right across the street was this CBS Station which says it's the South's First Television Station. Which it probably is. But none of the lights in the sign work.


Then we went to dinner at a surprisingly good seafood restaurant where Ana ate a fish like Heathcliff the Cat:


Later, it got scary cuz it turns out Katie is a zombie changeling


and we just had to act like everything was normal


Also in Richmond it is compulsory to smoke cigarettes.


Also this is where this one girl started following us around.


I mean this is the next day and she's wearing the same clothes. You'd think she'd have the decency to change.


Travel Tip: If you're ever in Richmond and you need some flour or a notion, you know where to go:


This car had three kegs of beer in the back.


Before the zombie Katie got tattooed we went to the cemetery because Joe says there are some great names there. P. Lightfoot Wormeley says he is right:


As do Mary B. Strange and B. Gay Strange.


The only problem for me was that I found out that I'm dead.



Get a load of these two drunks dancing outside the bar! Omg. The girl had barfed inside earlier.

Feather Your Bangs!

Wednesday was full of driving to Philadelphia to see Tim and Eric: Awesome Show: The Live Show at some bar with Evan and Dana. When four nerds drive somewhere to see a show performed by nerds, the only real way to do it is in a shared hybrid vehicle.


I wish you could see the overwhelming nerddom that filled the place while we waited in line, but it would've taken some sort of special camera, while all I had was my phone. So here's me.


Also, this is true:


The show was pretty good, even though it was like watching an episode of the Wiggles with a bunch of seven year olds. I swear to god it was like the nerds had Tim and Eric-brand Tourettes. Non sequitur quotes from the show were shouted at almost every quiet moment.

DJ Dogg Pound is really funny.


Here is when they first came out in these really gross naked costumes with enormous balls.



Later we went to Waffle House because it was there. Shocking: waitress was clearly speeding and fucked up every order. Not Shocking: it was still delicious.


The video below is enough justification for the show. It's perfect.

Reviews of New Cereals, Plus More Examples of the Taxing Life of Being a Cat that Sleeps All the Time

First, my brother and his girlfriend were in town this week, enjoying the rain, and we went to the Quarry House for some more pickles

then down the street to AFI for the Robert Mitchum retrospective, which was playing Thunder Road. If you haven't seen it, Mitchum plays a moonshine runner through the hills of Tennessee in the 50s. He is easily the toughest, most smooth-talking Tennessee moonshine runner I've ever seen on film, with nary a hint of a southern accent. Verdict: rent it, then go to DollyWood and ride Thunder Road: the Ride.


So. The other day at the grocery store I looked at the cereal aisle, which I never do because I never eat cereal. What I learned there was that the nation's cereal manufacturers have lost their damned minds. For serious, look: Froot Loops with Darkberries? What, did they run out of types of berries to add, so they just made up Darkberries? Or was it the fact that they're not berries at all, so you had to make up a new word that connotes berries but isn't tied to the idea that there is actually fruit in the cereal? Why not Goozleberries or Flibbleberries? Either of those names would be cooler and less ominous-sounding than Darkberries.


In other Froot Loops-makes-up-words-news, here is this thing called Froot Loops Smoothie, which includes "Yogurty-covered pieces," which might be the grossest thing I've ever heard about.


And Frosted Flakes has entered the small-but-growing energy drink/cereal crossover world.


And now the magazines in the grocery stores, they tell you what you think before you even think it. Like here where they tell me that I don't think Hilary Duff is edgy.









I got bored yesterday and played a free poker tournament online. I won a ticket to another tournament which if I win will give me a seat to this year's World Series of Poker. I predict that should be easy enough.

Atlas District Schmatlas District

After working on H St. for long enough, we haven't been back in a while. Which is a shame, because there's lots of good things about it.

A) The Pug, which I've mentioned before, but never mentioned the fantastic signs over the bar which you can't read here: NO SPECIALS NO SHOOTERS NO POLITICS NO FIGHTING.



B) Al the bar cat at Palace of Wonders.


C) Cobra Kisses, co-worker's hair band playing at Red & Black. Possibly the best encore/road ballad ever written (scroll down their MySpace playlist to "Gaping Hole").

Ah, Spring

Today was the first really beautiful Spring day in DC. Brisk, sunny, mid-60s, perfect for eating with the thousands of other flip-flop-clad white people who love eating outside so very much. So we did the only thing we could think of: go underground in the suburbs to our favorite bar at the moment, the Quarry House. The booze there is good, but the fried pickles are hamazing.

Also, this is the bathroom.

The Road to Recovery Is Paved With Buying Shit

I haven't mentioned this because it's still a sore subject, but enough time has passed that I think it's time to breach it: when donating six or seven boxes of books to the library, our box of records--all of them--got donated too. The library had no knowledge of them, because everybody that works at a library is naturally a thief and a liar. How do I know this? Cuz I worked at a library.

Anyway, I'm trying to soothe the pain by buying records. Lots of people sell them online, it turns out. Today's purchases:







Next up: Townes Van Zandt.

Tuesday Means Boredom!

The big thing for the cats about the new apartment is the sleeping. For Pedro, this means his vampiric tendencies are even more prominent:


Punk is the opposite, whether out of spite or not:


She is also being very supportive of my new quest


They like sleeping so much that they will even do it with each other.




Also, the MC at the comedy show Sunday gave me a card for his blog, NotHatingJustSaying, which is pretty funny and was simultaneously linked on Gawker. Blogrolled!