Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Irish Whiskey Makes Me Frisky!

I saw a button with that saying at the South Side Parade on Sunday. I was very tempted to buy it, but I had already purchased some kickass green beer beads, so I decided against it. Anyway, lots of stories from a busy, busy week. Also, thanks to Dirty Rog for the latest country mp3, I haven't had a chance to listen to it yet but I will check it out soon. In other music news, 99.9 has been having a lot of technical difficulties; it goes in and out and songs end abruptly. Come on guys, get it together. In other news, I have been enjoying the Lewis radio station (88.1)lately around noontime, as they play early 90's r & b and rap; I heard some Toni Tony Tone (forgive me if I have the order wrong) and Dr. Dre today.

A note: be sure to check out the Sapphire website's photo section for some pure comedy. The amount of skanky hos on there is hilarious, and there are always some familiar faces. Unfortunately they only have pictures from Saturdays on there so my recent trips have not been documented.

Ok, social outings: Friday night a bunch of us headed to, you guessed it, Sapphire, for Rob's birthday. Note to anyone looking for the free vodka drinks from 9-10pm deal Fridays at Sapphire: Make sure you ask for Level vodka, otherwise it's not free. Sapphire was highly amusing, as there were some incredible performances of the White Man's Shuffle going on. I tried to get video, but the lighting was not good enough. Later on in the evening a man with the world's biggest pompadour entered the room. We were highly amused, and Kelly and Aaron went over to check out the situation at hand. I gave Aaron my camera, and he soon returned with a picture of himself and Mr. Pompadour. Soon Kelly brought Mr. Pompadour over, and he turned out to be Carl from the Neverly Brothers, a band that apparently often plays at McBrody's. I told Carl that my dad informed me that the band was good, and Carl said, "Your dad's right." Maybe, Carl, but my dad also used to enjoy Michael Bolton.

Saturday evening I went to see Gaelic Storm at the House of Blues with Shannon, Joe, and my sister. This was my fourth time seeing them, and they are awesome, one of the most fun bands I've ever seen, and the majority of their songs are about drinking, which always brings a festive atmosphere. My personal favorite is "Pina Colada in a Pint Glass." While the spot we were standing in near the sound board gave us a pretty good view, we also had to encounter yet another evening of White Man's Shuffle. The first man I will refer to as Mock Turtle (as we briefly thought he was wearing a Mock turtleneck, aka the fashion equivalent of peas, my most hated food. Note: the fashion equivalent of a corn dog is a muscle and/or mesh shirt). Mock Turtle began the evening with a little head bob routine, amusing and worthy of mockery (I aped his moves from directly behind him), but not too offensive. As the night moved on, Mock drank more and got more into his "dancing," there was some swaying and stepping incorporated into the routine. Eventually another man came near that I will refer to as False Prophet of the Dance as the man was a would-be Michael Flatley. The False Prophet kicked and stomped like a wannabe Riverdancer, and soon Mock Turtle joined him in the dance. I briefly thought the duo was going to engage in a dance-off (they would both get served) or, even more frighteningly, start grinding on each other, but neither occurred. However, Mock Turtle turned his focus behind him to my sister and I. He tried to dance in my direction while staring at me, but I stared blankly at him and offered no change in expression. He soon moved on to my sister, and started asking her, "Can't you feel it? Can't you feel it in your legs?" I can only assume he was referring to the rhythm of the night (dance into the broad daylight). My sister, could not, in fact, feel it in her legs (this exchange reminded me of The Bride trying to wiggle her toes in Kill Bill), but I pretended to feel it in my bladder as I dragged her off to the bathroom and away from the Mock. Soon after, we headed to an Irish bar, had some Bailey's and coffee and called it a night.

Sunday, Shannon, Joe and I got up bright and early for the South Side Parade. Last year we attended the parade ill-prepared, having heard that they crack down on public drinking, we did not bring supplies. Seeing as that was not the case, this year we brought flasks with Bailey's in them. My flask was newly procured from the Gaelic Storm concert; I had gone flask hunting at Fox Valley earlier in the week and was led to "Funky Breezes," a Rocky Mudd's-like store that unfortunately only sold flasks with marijuana leaves and bicycles(?) on them, so I bought mine at the concert. We took the train up with a crowd of happy drinkers and proceeded to walk to the parade, stopping along the way to get some coffee to mix with our Bailey's. The people watching was pretty amusing, mostly drunks ranging in age from 15 to 80. Also amusing: the "patrolling" going on. I overheard a cop ask someone if they were drinking liquor. When the person said yes, the cop said, "Ok, finish it." Not "hand it over," "dump it," or "you're arrested," but "finish it." Awesome. The parade was great. Among the fun parts of the parade were noted news celebrities Jim Rose (who has an earring, I never knew he was badass), Mr. Food (I was screaming his name, much to the amusement of nearby adolescents), and Mike Parker. Shannon and Joe were so surprised at my excitement in seeing Mike Parker (I've always had a fondness for local anchorpeople) that they thought I actually knew him. Also spotted: Channel 5's Dick Johnson (note: amazing name). Shannon took a picture of him in which he appears to be licking his lips. Other highlights of the parade included a leprechaun who gyrated in a hamster wheel like apparatus called a "Wacky Wheeler," a paper mache Simpsons float that was a bit of a Monet (good from far but far from good), and a whole lot of cute dogs. Good times indeed.

Herald News news: One of the Jackhammers, Mike McCay, will be living in a trailer on the Jackhammers' field this season. I find this hilarious. Will the trailer replace McBrody's as the Jackhammer game after-party? I'm hoping that at some point I will get to meet "Trailer Boy" and learn about life in Silver Cross Field. Will he live on frosted nuts and Dippin' Dots? Does he get to play in the playground after hours? Where does Jammer come into play? So many questions. . . From the article: "McCay is quoted saying,
'I'm more excited about the RV than any part of any season, ever.'" This says a lot for the Jackhammers' upcoming season. Also of note in Jackhammer world. . .Wednesday home games will be "Women's Wednesday's," and anyone wearing a skirt or dress (key word: anyone) will get discounted tickets.

In the blotter:

Fight breaks out at restaurant
JOLIET — A fight between two women in a restaurant that caters to children resulted in a battery arrest Friday.

******, 23, was arrested after police were called at 6:43 p.m. to Chuck E. Cheese, 1965 W. Jefferson St. The restaurant manager told police that ***** and another woman were arguing when ***** threw a salad bowl at the other woman's head.
****** then jumped on the other woman and began scratching her face, police said. The 19-year-old victim had cuts on her face and forehead but refused treatment, police said.
****** was released after posting bond.


I feel a joke coming on about tossing salad, but that would be inappropriate. However, wouldn't it have been awesome if the fight had moved into the ball pit? Oddly enough, there was another fight at Chuck E. Cheese on Sunday. There was also a brawl at Samy's the other night apparently, but that's practically expected.

Also entertaining was this Monday's Pulse section. Among the interesting info: the owner of Heroes is finally going to fix the spelling of his bar's name when he moves the place (note: someone should mess up the lease of "Illussion of Beauty" on Essington so it can have a similar fate), there is not going to be a "naked party" at Maneuvers, but apparently a disgruntled former employee of Maneuvers sent out an email from the address of a Maneuvers patron claiming there would be. A quote from the patron: "There's nothing worse than a vindictive queen." An FYI on Joliet's nudity code: it tells everyone to cover up their private parts, including their "anal cleft." Is that anything like a treble clef?

That's all for now, more news later.

9 Comments:

Blogger Shannon said...

Awesome post, Emily. I promise that tonight or tomorrow (more likely tomorrow), I will post, complete with photos. I must agree that, indeed, there is nothing worse than a vindictive queen.

To revive your country music discussion, today I caught a snippet of a song that contained the lyrics, "gonna have to kick some keester ..." Keester?

5:31 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

What is a muscle shirt? Is it a shirt without sleeves?

10:17 AM  
Blogger DaGoose said...

A muscle shirt (also often known in these parts as a "swolly") is a sleeveless shirt worn by a man to either highlight his muscles or make him appear to have the illusion of muscles. They usually have really big armpit holes. An excellent example would be the yellow "Hulkamania" shirts that were popular in the 1980's.

11:01 AM  
Blogger DaGoose said...

Kim,
Good call on the drunk/lazy eye surgery. And to think that I had surgery to repair my lazy eye in sixth grade, I should have it reversed so I can be a star on the Sapphire website.

11:02 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Whew, I have a few AF shirts that are labeled muscle on the tag, which means they are somewhat form fitting. I would hate to think I was walking around in the corndog of casual wear.

11:45 AM  
Blogger DaGoose said...

I think you're safe. First of all, I don't think Abercrombie makes any "corn dog" shirts. Second of all, I think as long as the armpit holes are not gigantic, it's acceptable. Giant armholes are where we run into trouble. I just don't want to know that much about anyone's deodorant (or lack thereof).

11:49 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh my, I now see the corn dog connection. There are no arm pit holes in the AF muscle cut, regular old short sleeves, just a little snug - its the same thing Gap calls athletic fit. Thanks for the help!

12:21 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey Em!
Just saying hi from Cowtown (Kansas City)---I'm officially indentured at work for 12 hours a day until the end of the quarter (April 1), and it SUCKS! Anyway very funny post, I wish I could have seen the two guys doing the Irish dancing, that sounds HILarious. BTW I think that you need to watch the new MTV show PoweR Girls and write about it--it's asking to be made fun of. Anyway, gotta get back to the daily grind.....

1:35 PM  
Blogger DaGoose said...

Yeah, I think as long as sleeves are involved, you're far, far from the world of corn dogs. Jen, I TIVO'd Power Girls the other night and it was hilarious. Their job reminded me of my time at the Art Institute (I had deja vu when they were having problems with the guest lists), but who decided that Lizzie Grubman should have a show? Didn't she run over a bunch of people in the Hamptons a few years ago? Also, she is FUG. Usually I recommend that your eyebrows match your hair, but not when your hair is practically white, as it makes you look like you're browless.

2:02 PM  

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