Drinking on Oil Islands

Ok, so this is posted kinda late...here's my latest District Weekly "Drink of the Week" column:

Honey Moon Summer Ale

Spandex bike shorts- rock on!

Channeling Sammy Hagar at Joe's Crab Shack

My District Weekly Drink of the Week column this week:

Captain's Dreamscicle

Drinking tall fruities at "The Shack."

Feeling Fluty in Long Beach

Long Beach is a diverse city. Just blocks away, row upon row of peeling 1920’s craftsman houses, cafes, gangs, Cambodian restaurants, vintage shops, taquerias, seedy bars lined with career alcoholics, four star dining establishments and a freaking aquarium intermingle in an fusion of culture. Where we live by the beach, it’s not so dangerous. People rollerblade around and talk about sailboats. Sometimes at night, we’re woken up by our neighbor who plays a recorder really loudly out his open window. What kind of a guy plays a fucking flute at two am? Last night it happened again, and my boyfriend leaned out the window and yelled, “More recorder!” If you can’t stop it, you might as well have some fun. We started shouting out song requests--anything we could think of with a flute. “Men at Work! Play Bungle in the Jungle!” we shouted.

The most we got was some fluty noodling in return. What a hack. We called that flute player out.

"Jeans for Jesus"

Another shameless plug for my column in The District this week:

Sale Salvation

Happy VD!

For those a little tired of the old candy and flowers route, try love urban style, and check out my "Drink of the Week" column in The District this week...Chamcisco!

Chamcisco

It means whale’s vagina...

We went out of town to San Diego on a whim and, as luck will have it, there was a skate/snowboard dealer event going on that weekend. Needless to say, our hotel overlooked an elaborate A&R tiki party with a mechanical bull and a giant, erupting volcano. You just can't plan this shit. It was hilarious to watch the young, A&R rep hopefuls getting wasted and lasting 1.5 seconds on the mechanical bull before being tossed into the air and splatting onto the mat. Then, oddly, there were dancing cheerleaders that did a choreographed pop and lock to Paula Abdul on the makeshift parquet floor. Until the nerdy guys started closing in on them, taking pictures and trying to hug them.

Somehow, for me, this sums up San Diego.

OC Fair - 8/3/07

Is that what makes us want to hang, a thin seatbelt away from death,
feet dangling over crowds of fried-food-bellied pedestrians below...
because walking, driving, passing through the streets of southern
California, you're already in a sort of consumer death....


If you can wind your way through the prison thugs, drugs, endless
watering holes, a fast food landscape, then surely you can survive
this, a mechanical failing, nothing compared to the real thing.

Somehow being lifted away, through halfway into space, the plastic
signs become smaller, the heart larger, faster, and we're a little
more alive in southern California.