Monday, June 27, 2005

Party college style

We went to a friend's friend's house for a party Saturday. It was essentially a college party.
It was interesting because since college I've gone to very few "college-style" parties. Nowadays our "parties" usually will be attended by at least a couple married couples, probably a couple babies, a bunch of wine, possibly a board game some good food, and some quality beers. I guess we're starting to act like grown-ups. Kinda.
This party was a real throwback. 3 kegs, a bunch of ragged dope-smoking, acne-faced 18 year-olds, a DJ, hoochie-mamas, crooked baseball caps, red party cups, outdoor urination, and cops at the front door. Ah, just like the ole days.
I had a good time though. We drank our share of their beer, had some very funny conversations with some teenagers eager to be hazed like fraternity pledges.
When cops finally busted the party up, I almost had the urge to jump the fences.

Thinking back on my early college days; we were bad, bad kids.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Liam McEneaney Experience

While surfing I found this blog post:

by Liam McEneaney

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints.
Other times there were one set of footprints.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life
When I was suffering from anguish, sorrow, or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.
So I said to the Lord, "You promised me, Lord,
That if I followed you, you would walk with me always.
But I noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
There have only been one set of prints in the sand.
Why, When I have needed you most, you have not been there for me?"
The Lord replied,
"The times when you have seen only one set of footprints
Is when I carried you."

Then I replied, "Yeah, but why didn't you carry me more? I mean my whole life was pretty bad and I could have used more of an assist."
And God replied, "What am I your mommy? I'm a very busy guy."
And I looked on the beach and I noticed that there was a point where there were footsteps and the outline of a body being dragged through the sand, and I said, "What the fuck is that?"
God looked at me and said, "Uh, yeah. You were drunk."
And I said, "No fucking way. I'd remember being that drunk."
And God said, "Okay, look, I didn't want to have to say this, but you could stand to lose a few pounds. I can't be carrying you all over the place if you keep eating Pop Tarts like they were communion wafers."
And I said, "Pop Tarts are healthy, they got fruit in th middle."
And God rolled his eyes and said "Whatever."
So I said, "Look, I don't know what kind of wacko goes carrying people around when they're asleep, but as far as I'm concerned, you can go to hell."
And then I looked further down the beach and saw elephant tracks, alongside which looked like the comically oversized prints of clown shoes.
But when I turned to ask God about them, he was gone.


Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Comics childhood

I admit it.
I'm a comic dork. What can I say?
It was Superman, Spiderman, the X-men, and Batman who taught me right from wrong, good vs. evil, heroics vs. villainy. I suppose comics improved my reading skills; and comics DEFINITELY improved my artistic skills.
I have one vivid memory of wanting to learn to draw. I was at a banquet party with my parents at the Sheraton near SFO airport. All the kids were playing in some room. There was an older kid there. He was doodling pictures of super heros. I disticly remember him drawing me a picture of Spiderman hanging upside down from a web. He gave it to me. I was stoked! After that I would spend ALL my freetime and all the miniscule minutes between homework and classwork trying to replicate that dude's drawing. I was probably in first grade or so. Just a tike. After that I immersed myself into any comic book I could find. I was influenced by artists such as Simon Bisely, Marc Silvestri, Mike Golden, John Romita Jr., John Byrne, Jim Lee, John Buscema, Art Adams, George Perez and even Bill Sienkiewicz.

I know what you're thinking... Who the fuck are they? Who cares? The point is I am into comics. The fantasy, the art, the creativity, the violence, and especially the female hero's huge boobs.

So on that note:
I watched Batman this weekend and was thoroughly impressed. It was established eary that Batman Begins needed to be REALLY good. After Joel Schumacher's bullshit version of Batman and Robin nearly ruined the entire franchise, someone did a good thing by bringing on Christopher Nolan (director of Memento) to direct this version starring Christian Bale.
Sure this film has it's faults. Like Qi Gong Jinn's appearance as a Jedi ninja... who the fuck is that??? I've read a million Batman comics and never has a Jedi appeared in any of them. So, that sucked. But otherwise this movie is scary, dark, gritty, funny, actio-packed and emotional (my gf actually cried when Bruce Wayne's parents were killed). The villains are quite villainous, the gadgets fantastic, Gotham menacing...

Catch this one. It's worth the ten bucks.

Monday, June 20, 2005


I played some golf with my pops for Father's Day. I haven't played golf in a couple years, literally. I wasn't expecting much from my play. By the time I was at San Jose Municipal Golf Course, I was downright nervous. But though I hadn't whipped out the Big Bertha in years, the minute I stepped up to the tee, I was ready. One relaxed swing and blammo, that ball took off... and made an abrupt right turn. Actually it was a slight right turn. Playable.
I had a decent day. Made a couple pars, several bogeys, many double bogeys, even more triple bogeys, but only lost count of my strokes on only two holes, not bad if you ask me. So in all, I have no idea what my score was. I can tell you I didn't lose a single ball. For me, that's not too shabby.

Thursday, June 16, 2005

backpacking season is here.

Since backpacking season is here NOW,.. and We've already cancelled one trip, I'm posting this photo of me on top of the Emigrant Wilderness as a reminder to get outside.

Plus, my arms look damn good in this pic.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Stroker on the town.

Check out Stroker's photos from this week.
An excellent slice-o-life of the pretty people of San Francisco.


Originally uploaded by Joe_13.
Here's a pic of my mom, my brother and me back in the good ole days.

Too bad our musical talents never materialized. I'm sure my pops eventually destroyed that little piano. I distinctly remember making quite a racket with that thing.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Life Preserver

I don't know what branch of the military she's in,... but military life preservers are funnnnky.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Downing Street Memo

Though my conservative friends are basically in denial about the shadiness of Bush, here is an article from the "biased" mainstream news.
The Downing Stree Memo gets fresh attention

Hey can I get an UNBIASED news source list from you conservatives? (lemme guess Fox News is on that list). Since CBS, NPR, NBC, ABC, BBC, MSNBC, NYT, LA Times, Washington Post, and The Economist are all "liberal-media" what the fuck can I read to get the truth (that's sarcasm, genius)?

Debo's bachelorhood ends

When Scan picked me up from the Phoenix Airport, Paul instructed him to "Do not pass Go" and go directly to his apartment in Scottsdale. He insisted we pre-party before we head out to the James Hotel to meet up with the rest of the bachelor party.
By the time we got to the hotel, I was a bit fuzzy around the edges. But I did know one thing about Arizona already: It was fucking hot. Actually as soon as I got to the pool, I learned something else: Arizona chicks are all ridiculously hot too.

We lounged at the pool for a while under the blazing sun and the hotel's mist-sprays. After I had made my first purchase of beer from the bar, (which was $6, for an Amstel Light) I was kindly informed of the multiple-cases of beer at Clint's poolside room from which I was invited to indulge myself. That room became our "bar" for the rest of the weekend.

That night we headed to the Kona Grill. Of course it was packed to the brim with beautiful people. Rhinehart was suddenly being given shit for his ID. Rhinehart is the unfortunate recipient of a DUI and had since had his license taken away. So the manager says, "He can stay and hang out, but he can't drink, since we only accept out-of-state DRIVERS LICENSES... not Identification cards."
Of course we were blown away. "WHAT?!" We have dinner reservations for 17 people. We are all borderline alcoholics! We were about to drop some serious coin in this joint. Reluctantly, Rhinehart went to the booth and sat quietly.
"This is bullshit," I said and ordered two shots of Patron Silver. I passed one over to Rhinehart and said. "Fuck it dude. Drink it." He took the shot quickly and silently.
Two minutes later the manager comes to our table.
"The bartender just told me you ordered two patron shots, and you gave it to your friend. You guys are out."
Fuck you very much asshole.
Luckily for us, right next door at Z Tejas Grill welcomed us and our money happily. They let us all drink and everything. Plus, the food was incredible. I ordered pork medallions on mashed potatoes, which were perfectly cooked and tasted unbelievable.

After dinner we did what any bachelor party groups do. We hit up the strip club. A $20 ride in a Town Car took us to Christie's Cabaret. Christies resembles a Vegas style monster strip club. Fancy schmancy and all that. The girls were hot. The drinks expensive. Lap dances all around.

Day two:
We hoofed it to the Breakfast Club. Now this place proves that chicks are hotter in Arizona. The waitresses here were as good-looking as the strippers at Christie's. One looked like a 20 year-old Elizabeth Hurley. The hostess could've been her hotter sister. Oh yeah,.. the food was good too.
The rest of the morning was essentially a ghetto tour of the Scottsdale/Tempe/Phoenix area. I rolled with Paul while he ran errands around town, met some of his shady friends. We then headed back to the Hotel pool.
The rest of the day is hazy. I do remember laying out in the sun with a Stoli-water-and-lime on rocks. NWA was on the ipod. Natural Light in the cooler (because we're high rollers like that) and really hot waitresses delivering waters to us.

We went to the sushi joint RA that night. and the plan was to go to Suede afterwards. But when I got in the cab from the restaurant, Butz, Paul and Scan decided they wanted to go to Skin instead. Skin (I couldn't find a link) is a strip club in case you haven't guessed. It is significantly smaller than Christie's, but the talent was much better in my opinion. Butz literally fell in love with one dancer in particular who's time he monopolized for at least an hour and a half (or however many songs $200 would buy). Fired up, Paul dropped two stacks of ones on me to distribute to the dancers and promptly ran home to his fiance (for some lovin' no doubt)... Scan and I watched as the beautiful brunette with perfect (real) breasts held Butz lovingly. We laughed our asses off as he gently stroked her fingers and caressed her hair and whispered "I Love You" to her. We left him there and took off to Suede with just enough cash for the cab ride.

Suede was hopping. Tons of chicks. All of them as hot as the strippers we were just watching, but not as naked. After a few hours of drinking and I was done for.

So Arizona proved to be an excellent town for a bachelor party. There must be 15 strip clubs and a million bars in the Phoenix, Scottsdale, Tempe area. If you hate hot chicks and hot weather,... stay away from Arizona.

Monday, June 06, 2005

Masta Ace

I'm giving props to Masta Ace.

Since ScottyO burned me a copy of Masta Ace's A Long Hot Summer, it's been going almost non-stop on my ipod. His lyrical style is slow and smoothe and is devoid of the hip-hop phenomena called "hooks" or what I call "chanting." (Chanting is when a "rap" group finds a lyric and repeat it in unison a million times in a row.) Anyway, Masta Ace's album doesn't have it. What Summer does have is heart. He lays down soulful rhymes on ultra-smooth beats, without using pop-hop cliches. It's lyrics are also meaningful and darkly funny, which is a refreshing change from what we might be used to hearing on the hippety-hop stations. While super-stars like "Ludacris", "Little John" and the "Ying-Yang Twins" the deliver essentially meaningless, jibberish song after song, Masta lays down thoughtful narratives and offers advice and introspection on the industry.

excerpt from "The Ways"

Life in rap is like a knife in the back...
This life attracts some of the trifleist cats...
Niggas getting deals with pipes and bats...
If that don't work, than they strike with gats...
I know a few dudes got label deals,
'cause they crew pack steel like Navy Seals.

A Long Hot Summer is in the same vein as the most soulful of rap. Think Tribe Called Quest meets Wu Tang meets Biggy. Check it out.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Deep Throat

Mr. Felt

Well if anything, it shows that one honest person can bring down a big time crook.
The Bush administration could use a 'Deep Throat" if you know what I mean...and not in the same way The Clinton administration needed one...