If you were unfortunate enough to blink, then you missed this weekend. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow never extends far enough. Even with my work week being a day short, I was in desperate need of this past weekend. My week of self-imposed, sick induced exile had to end no matter what the cost. I pumped my body full of roots and vitamins before taking a post work nap in hopes of facilitating an about-face. My options were slim due to it being Perry’s last weekend before jet setting to the Far East for the next few months. Around 9pm I headed to Motor City to meet with Beach, Perry and Daylen who stopped in for a couple drinks while DJ Del was manning the decks. As if he heavily anticipated my appearance, Del tossed on some Libertines as I crossed the threshold. After the obligatory hugs and hellos, I started sipping whiskey with the hope of sweating out my nasty cold. No such luck, but my spirits were lifted at the sight of kids like Allie, Angel, Tim, Colin and Hal. It was nice to run into so many people I haven’t seen in ages. I’m a kid who loves to catch up. Everyone had their Friday smiles on, and they were setting up for their respective good times.
Beach, Perry, Daylen and I finished up our beverages and made way for the Mercury Lounge. Ambulance Ltd stepped up in the pinch because of a cancellation by The Giraffes earlier in the week. With little or no publicity, Ambulance Ltd was still able to fill the club on a Friday night. It’s just a small testament to the great strides the Brooklyn based band has made in the past year or so. After some quick hellos to Dennis, Pedro and Keagan I slipped into the back corner to prepare for the set. Ambulance kicked things off with a tune that channeled late Lennon lead Beatles. It led into a broad stroking of Stay Where You Are which is one of my jams from their full-length. With the confidence that probably stems from playing a small room packed with familiar faces, Ambulance Ltd graced us with some new tracks that interlace their atmospheric shoegaze pop with some jangley guitar progressions. I later found out from Benji, a guitarist in the group, that this stems from their current infatuation with Neil Young. The new songs immediately won me over. They have a very inviting feel to them, but it’s an inclusiveness that doesn’t push the boundaries of being considered ‘pop’. As overused as it may sound, Ambulance Ltd projects an earnest attitude not fully relevant to the four-on-the-floor sound coming out of Brooklyn and the U.K. As the set grew older Greg leaned in and said, “These guys are actually pretty good,” I just nodded in sincere agreement as they busted into my favorite track, Primitive.
By the end of the Ambulance Ltd set a good crew had assembled to embrace weekend. I was lucky enough to meet Perry’s lady friend Christine and her friend Juls. Sarah, Dan and Mia also squeezed into the back corner with us. Dan and Mia were intent on busting my balls for keeping this blog. Mia refused to tell me stories out of fear that they would end up posted for the world to read, while Dan and I engaged in a cosmetic tiff over this bullshit activity. Yes, it’s a diary. It all ended in hugs and tequila. Eventually Liz and her friend Kiarra joined us to watch some of the Neon Thrills set. At this point in the evening, my head was spinning due to a massive amount of cold pills, Afrin and whiskey that were gracing my blood stream. As the Neon Thrills finished their set, Cami and Leah stopped in for a quick drink before I followed Liz and Tiarra to Red and Black, (or is it Black and White… the bar on 10th St). It was my first trip to the small East Side bar, and despite the obvious influx of NYU style kids (no offense, I’m one as well) it was a decently rad bar. The Dj’s were spinning some stellar one off hits, while Liz and I got dizzy sitting at the bar. Jo Divestar cruised through with her friend Sarah and her sister Julie(a?). Around 2:30am Liz decided to throw in the towel so I said my goodbyes and hopped a cab back to Mercury.
Most of the previous warriors were still intact along with the additions of Kyle, Dee and Marc. We drank healthy tequila shots and PBR’s until closing time. Beach tried to teach himself how to pour a beer, but empty kegs and jackass friends prevented his success. At one point Beach tried to get a little emo on Perry and me, but my asshole ways wouldn’t allow it. The joke will now live in infamy. Around 4am the bar had considerably emptied out, and free Guaco Locos were offered to Perry if he ran to San Loco in his underwear. Never one to shy away from this kind of bet, Perry stepped out to the doorway of the club, stripped down to his briefs and set out for the eatery. (Un)Fortunately he took the long route by crossing Houston before proceeding down 1st Street in front of Pun Jaabe and hanging a left at Katz’s. He came back to the front of the club where Mia, Beach and I were nearly pissing our pants before setting a course down Ludlow. I gathered his clothes and we met him across the street from San Loco.
A fellow night owl peeped the incident and was quick to snap a few photos of the number one warrior that will hopefully make their way to Good Times Roll. Perry quickly got dressed and we proceeded to be the loudest kids in the after hours establishment. We stuffed our faces with various forms of Loco while jamming out to Zeppelin and gawking at the employee with the killer rock mullet. We even went as far to complement him on our way out of San Loco. A few instances I vaguely remember include Perry puking into a napkin and me standing on the bench to applaud San Loco. My Puma jumper still reeks of Loco. We returned to 186 to close out the night and we were pleasantly surprised by a present left on the stove. After some rocking out to Dirty on Purpose, I attempted to write a drunken blog post that will never see the light.
If Friday was any gauge of the weekend, then surely my cold would be raging by its completion. Saturday started slowly around 4pm when I made my way to the couch to get my Wild Card round of the NFL playoffs started. By the second half of the Seattle game, Noah, Dana and Builder had joined me for the festivities. We eased into the Jets game with some Nice Guy Eddies grub and by the end of the first half the room was filled with Matty G., Sean, Sarah, Miriam and Mike. Despite Sean’s futile attempts to sneak the Nirvana DVD onto the television, we managed to get rowdy during the Jets game. The Jets had me feeling confident when they headed into the fourth quarter with a 10 point lead. The moronic defensive play of Barton gave the Chargers a second chance to tie the game which they did. Overtime was a rollercoaster ride. With the Jets facing certain elimination, the Chargers rookie kicker missed an opportunity to put the game away. The Jets marched down the field and kicked the game winning field goal to catapult them into the second round against the Steelers. I’m considering returning to Clearfield this weekend for the one chance to watch my Jets upend the Steel City warriors.
After the game, we made our way back to the Mercury Lounge to meet up with Beach, Perry, Oveis, Daylen, Sarah and the rest of the monkeys. Sub Pop artists The Constantines was on tonight’s bill, but the ensuing shitshow prevented me from fully taking in their set. Someone must have spiked Noah’s drink because he was off his ass crazy, which fueled the crazy nature of Ian and the rest of the crew. We danced. We Culkined. We got covered in beer. If I do recall, Noah may have been on Perry’s shoulders at one point in the evening. It was a rowdy night complimented by the Canadian rock that I was expecting to be much louder and harder. In any event they were great, and I can’t wait to have the chance to see them and fully take in their sound.
Following The Constantines encore, we set up camp in the front room while taking donations for Mohawks for Relief. This was a one trick pony where Perry was willing to get a Mohawk if we could muster up $100 to donate to a relief fund. After some canoodling, we managed to pull together enough cash. We stopped to pick up PBR reinforcements before returning to 186 for the shaving. The joint hawk effort was kicked off by me mowing down the left side of Perry’s hair. Then I was joined by Beach and Sarah who each took a turn chopping for relief. To be honest, Perry’s hawk looks quite good. It’s a bit of a butthawk, but that’s what the kids are wearing these days.
Around 4am we decided to call it a night and I followed the kids out in search of food. For some reason I had lugged my PBR with me, and after crossing in front of Red Square I found it appropriate to throw a grenade Perry’s way. With pinpoint accuracy, I nailed him a few inches from the family jewels sending beer shrapnel onto unsuspecting passersby. Expected Perry retaliation came in the form of a bull charge. He attempted to pull the hockey move by pulling my shirt up, but an on target eye gouge prevented his move. He backed off, regrouped and went for it again only to be met with another thumb to the eye. He then shot for the moon and took me down by ripping my Converse apart. The bastard won. Perry always wins. Bring it in.
Once again, Sunday was all about football. Oveis, Perry, Beach, Daylen and I met at Boca Chica for some early afternoon brunch. I managed to talk them into hooking me up with their delicious coconut shrimp even though they weren’t on the brunch menu. It was a strong decision if I may say so. We finished our meal and headed back to 186 to ease into the afternoon while watching the Colts offense dismantle the Broncos. As it became time for the big NFC North showdown between the Packers and the Vikings we were joined by Dana who was adorning her Reggie White jersey for good luck. Unfortunately, Brett Favre didn’t have the performance needed to put them into the second round of the playoffs. By the end of the first half he had thrown two interceptions and made a ridiculous play in the red zone.
In the second quarter Julia and Christie joined us. It was Julia’s 21st birthday so halftime carbombs were in order. As time expired we threw on our coats and hastily made way for Nice Guys where we scored a 2 for 1 deal on the top notch cocktail. Perry must have had a great run in the porn industry because that kid can gulp. Before my shot found the bottom of my glass, he was slamming his down on the table. The kid is an animal. There’s no denying that. We returned to the crib to watch Brett throw two more interceptions in the Packers loss. It’s a really hard to watch a player like Favre have such a rough day. He is one of the greats and I find it hard to root against him. This and the fact that Dana was sorely disappointed made the final minutes quite difficult to watch.
After the game Dana and I scored some grub at Juanita’s on Rivington. Though her sandwich was quite the bomb, I’d highly advise staying away from their shrimp, (sorry Builder). Their Jalapeño slaw helped rebound my sorry sandwich. Dana had to continuously bark at me while I tried to sing along to the various classic rock tunes playing through the house. It was a nice way to bring a close to a crazy weekend. I returned to 186 and indulged in some conversation with Builder before we closed out the evening with The Big Lebowski.
Nice work all around. I’d like to commend everyone who had something to do with the sending off of Warrior Perry. My best wishes go out to Perry and his lady as they venture through the Far East. Be safe Perry, and we’ll see you at the May birthday party.
*** Everyone’s favorite, seldom seen, most offensive folk rock duo, Jesuschmesus has confirmed a show at Lit Lounge on January 17. Be there or be square.
*** Everyone’s favorite, most ridiculous folk rock trio has disbanded. Get ready to read bills with the phrase (x-Unicorns) in them, (Link via the always on top of it Productshop).
*** Free speech? Freedom of expression? Hmmm… I’d like to see the ratio of pornography subscriptions to library memberships in the state of Mississippi. I bet this library still carries Henry Miller novels.
*** I hope this doesn’t mean the band is coming to an end. I loved their first record and eagerly await another release. It was tough and delicious.
*** Let’s hope they don’t air this at 8pm on Thursday nights. I’m praying this sees the light of day.
3 Comments:
randy moss- eat shit and live
randy is a classless piece of mcgregor not fit for the bottom of my shoe. i'd like to hold him down, give him a mohawk and then present tumbleweed with the hair so he could continue to enhance his tumblebush.
Chris Mortensen is reporting that Randy Moss is actaully Tumbleweed....they are one in the same....who would have thought??
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