METAL

Honestly, when you're a kid, what is the most awesome thing ever? Limousines. And possibly Slayer. We just decided to combine the two, that's all.



THE CEILING WAS MIRRORED


THERE WERE LITTLE PLASTIC STRANDS WITH LIGHTS ON THE END OF THEM


This is how McGill figures one drinks Champagne while riding a limo to a metal concert.


Murph hears metal, limo-surfs, accidentally stops the CD.

STRETCHCURSION

OMG, look who's here! It's Teebz.

Here it appears that Pierce and I are judging Teebz' shotgunning abilities. Pierce: upper half. Me: lower half.

We do not know this guy, but he's wearing a shirt that looks like Teebz.


If I had seen my wrist when I was 15, I wouldn't have believed it. VIP for Slayer?!? As an aside, no advantage was taken of the VIP status, unfortunately. No tour buses, no ladies. Sigh.


Stage on fire. Lower left: dude with wicked farmer tan/tribal.


The traditional greeting at a Slayer concert.

Old people.

My Friends Are Funny

I'm short on content, but it's no biggie because I know Murph AND TBs.

Here's a little setup: dudes who work at bars generally aren't into things called "tweeting," but something struck recently and a growing number of service industry dudes (ladies are apparently more scrupulous) have formed an increasingly awesome Twitter group. @thepatso, @sleepymurph, @thomsono, @tittyballs, @chadamerica, @faggo, @me, etc... It's getting to be pretty fantastic.

So last night, @tittyballs decides to keep a running tally of his barback's (@johnnythuder?) good and bad acts for the evening. The list of bads at the end of the night is choice:


Favorites: "6. Broke Tittyballs' Magic Wand"; "7. Jinxed us"

Last Saturday, @sleepymurph sent the following missive: A POX OF SEVEN GENERATIONS ON ANYONE WHO PLAYS PUB GOLF. Then, being the intellectually curious and empathetic man that he is, he decided to play a round, by himself, last night.

His debrief of the experience is posted here, and is totally worth the read. A good selection:

Next time you do a car bomb take a good look at the nasty curdled sludge left in the glass, or feel the sticky coating left over after a Jager bomb, do you feel like fishing in there with your fingers to get the shot glass out? How about fishing it out of a stranger's glass? How about 40 strangers' glasses? See how this is getting out hand really quickly?

Also, he was 13 shots under par through 9 holes, which must be some sort of golf record.

Finally, Murph Blogs About You People

Feel free to send in your own examples.

DH + Gift Ideas!

If Darkest Hour's shows at the 9:30 club are like a homecoming for our particular group of friends, then Murph is like the homecoming king. He is easily the best metal concertgoer in the world. It's hard to make out here, but pictured below is Murph crouching on stage in preparation for what one would assume to be a brutal stagedive:


What I didn't get a photo of was when the dude ran from backstage and jumped on Murph's back, who proceeded to stagedive with dude riding piggyback.

BONUS! In Atlanta, brother and I were remembering a particular game we used to play as kids.


I found it on Amazon.

Two Thing Friday: 1/2 Serious Edition

Apologies for this partially serious post: my dad (who is awesome, fyi) has been dealing with a super-rare condition that's making his vision disappear almost weekly, which is gross considering that he uses them all the time. He started a new treatment this week. I texted my sister while she was at dinner with them, asking how he was, and got this very my dad-like response:

"Tell him I've still got a pulse," he said.

In other news, the world is still spinning:

MurphDay 2008 + Hot New Cocktailz

Today is MurphDay, and yesterday was MurphDay Eve. Murph got a lot of cheese.


CLOSEUP: MURPHSHIRT


TBz was there:


In other news, while having game night at some toddlers' house the other night we invented a new cocktail. It is delicious, it tastes like bubble gum, and it should always be enjoyed in a martini glass on the rocks.

[ 2oz Stoli Raspberry Vodka
3/4oz Malibu Coconut Rum
two dashes Agistora Angostura bitters]

Cuatro de Cinco

Katie had a Cuatro de Mayo barbecue yesterday, which means that these dudes wear straw hats.


And in what can only be described as a Cuatro de Mayo miracle, a ladybug flew inside and parked right on Katie's bangs.




Remember the other day when I posted a bunch of crappy pictures of stuff in our neighborhood? I forgot to include the picture of my neighbor's parrot, which she lets out every day.


When we first moved in it said goodbye to me and I responded. I hate birds.

Sleepy Murph: The Epic Journey

When Murph gets sleepy, he sleeps:


But one can never accuse him of keeping us from the party.


BONUSBONUSBONUS Pedro was caught lounging in a compromising position:


BONUSBONUSBONUS #2 Ana on eating blood: "The thing about blood is that you can only eat so much of it." Truer words have only been spoken periodically.

Saturday Night Camera Phone Dump

Alot has happened on my phone lately. First, for some reason I used it to capture Colin working the ladies when I had a perfectly working real phone at hand:


He swore that he needed just five more minutes. Next time, Collard Greens, next time!

Also, Murph posed:


Before that, a couple of us went to DC's hottest only after-hours spot, wherein we were stuck for two hours in silence while the coppers tried to pinch us.


If I were 17, it would've been a great story. But I'm not. The coppers would've needed to actually pinch us for it to be a great story at 30.

I finally got my shirt. It's surprisingly high in quality and awesomeness:


And finally, Teebz turned 19! Here he is asking for his keys:

DeffoFoodReview: BistroTimeUSA

It's a little late, but we've never been to CENTRAL MICHEL RICHARD, and I have a camera now so it seemed like time for the first true DeffoReview of Foods.

CENTRAL MICHEL RICHARD is a "bistro," for the purposes of the fact that they wanted to make hamburgers and one can't do that at MICHEL RICHARD CITRONELLE, presumably for fear that people might mistake his high-end restaurant for a barbecue bug-b-gone device.

Anybody with two restaurants with his name in them has got to be a good chef, right? Of course! He's really good! How about the design of the place? As my dad likes to say, as a designer, he makes a really good chef. Nyuk! Narf!

Washingtonian notes the "endless blond wood, clean lines, and air of casual brilliance" in the dining room. Hey Ana! What do you think of that?


Yes. Big orbs scream casual brilliance.


"Blond wood" = fake and plastic, a la our most luxurious chain hotels!


But if you put delicious foods on top of plastic tables, it's still delicious. These things on the right are called "Gougères," which means either "cheese puff" or "venereal disease" depending on what the context is (for reals). Thinking about this linguistic overlap is gross, but the cheese puffs were really delicious.


Because the restaurant is on Pennsylvania Avenue, reviews always mention that "power brokers" "hobnob" there. The place was full, but I didn't see anybody powerbroking (unless you include our great overlord).

I did, however, see a middle-aged woman shoveling salad into her mouth with a strained look on her face like this:


But anyway. Less about me, more about food! Enough Tim Carmaning! (Side note: Hey Tim! How about a description of a dish at some point in your next review! Thanks!)

It's a bistro, but it's still fancy and frenchy, so I figured that my fried chicken would be a piece of chicken lightly breaded with a fancy sauce drizzled in an asymmetrical pattern over the top. In reality, the dish is 4' x 6' (see fig. below), and comes with 1.5 gal of creamy mustard sauce in a gravy boat, two whole perfectly-fried chickens, and 3lb of rich, creamy pureed potatoes.

Junk is delicious. For actualies.


Ana got "pied de cochon," which we assumed meant "to walk like a pig," i.e. some sort of slow-roasted dish. We were totally wrong. It actually means "ground up pig, wrapped in dough with spices and vegetables, and fried so as to look like a pig's foot." Trust me-the latter is infinitely more delicious than the former. They had to bring a new table to fit the 5' x 5' plate:

Then we had coffee.

(There you have it, people: the perfect food review. You're welcome.)

BONUSBONUSBONUS

Me and Riff Raff's Prom picture (look how short!):


OMG MURPH'S CHIN IS FREE, LADIES


Two new superheroes arise out of the mist, driven by their dramatically different shoe sizes:


Nerds remain nerds, people.