Monthly Archives: July 2007

Wii Fit

Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup Sundae at Friendlys! My sister ordering nothing and calling me fat… all my chins quivering and constricting the actual peanut butter cup down my gullet before my sister can even turn on the camera. I am slouching towards obesity. But I know the answer… I’ll simply use a revolutionary new videogame system to exercise and lose the weight. Then I can have as many sundaes as I want!

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Super Megason IV is an active gaming system like Wii, but instead of sensors detecting me bowling, I actually get to cruise through the solar system with a zapper, looking for a player two or just some random NAMBLA type shit!

East Coast Girls are Hip I Really Dig Those Styles They Wear

Hey folks, this is what your brunch Floor Captain, Bar Captain (with special pin on the sash for additional captaining of Bloody Mary Bar), Grillmaster and Latin Skipper El Chad did on Sunday to wash off that special eggy film.

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If brunch was a 12 step program, the presentation of the dessert menu would be the second step. Here we have Step Four, East Coast girls in a convertible, top down, shades on, ripping down the highway and listening to… guess that tune? You got it. But then you always do. That comes right after Step Three, which is crap, shower, and go to Auto Zone to hook up your car’s computer to their portable diagnostics machine.

Step Five would be the murky time in between a state trooper stopping our convertible of freaks for making an illegal U-turn on a state highway to when Tomas toweled off in my face. Both events nearly catalyzed Dick Cheney-scale tsunami heart attacks in my chest cavity. That’s the power of a well-heeled uniformed man, my friends. Also, the rush of a wet heterosexual crotch in my face. Heart attacks for the king freak, my Puritan amigos.

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Step Eight is the pink Mai Tai in a long stem glass, a delicate purple flower in hair. The goal to this stage is to become the delicate flower, perched like a lemur in the red round corner VIP booth of the Chinese restaurant. My mastery of this stage in particular lead me down the path of Floor Captain. My energies peak during the afternoon when I am forced to wake up in the morning like a human being. But thats not why I love brunch. Enjoying Sunday post-brunch with friends is priceless.

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The Thrill of the Grillboy

I can certainly do more than just wait on tables. For a few consecutive years in my childhood I went to a horse camp where I learned to sit in the saddle and steer the beast. The line for me was kicking the spurs into the side of the horse to make it trot. It felt too much like driving a manual car; I needed it to be more automatic. Plus it made me fearful to kick a horse like that. I imagined the horse bucking me off and biting me on the ground. And so I gained some skills as a horseboy, but as a low speed horseboy.

For the moment my occupation in life is waiting on tables for Mr. S. He has written a cookbook called, Let the Flames Begin, that deals with the skills of the grill, and I have read it. Multi-level fires, proper seasoning, various cuts and hobo packs are all discussed in the pages of the text, and many of those lessons I took to heart. Here I am pictured grilling in my aunt’s backyard. We used an experimental hamburger recipe that had shredded cheese and chopped onion mixed in with the hamburg itself. For my vegetarian sister I made a hobo pack filled with radish, celery, green peppers, salt and pepper, and olive oil.

Earlier this July, my aunt made two small patties and then put an entire slice of an onion in between them and pressed the edges together all the way around to make a three level meat onion meat superpatty. If anyone reading this has any ideas how to make a hamburger with even more oniony goodness this former horseboy would love to hear them. Leave a comment and tell me how I can make some kind of radish, green onion / white onion meat bomb, or please surprise me.

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Killing It (the East Coast Grill BBQ Team Gets Grisly)

WARNING: NOT FOR VEGANS, VEGETARIANS, PETA, CHILDREN, BABIES, THE SQUEAMISH, ETCETERA: THIS MEANS YOU

This is a compilation of scenes and pictures from my personal Fourth of July party; similar in many ways to the experiences one might expect of a lawn labrador. I headed out to Westport one night before the party and stayed up all night with EZ, the Schles, Jimmy, Husbands and other chefs to cook a 150LB pig on a spit roast. We had to inject it with flavors. We had to pull it out of the flames because it eventually broke the spit. We just had to drink beers to stay hydrated.

The next day the Lord took over the smoking of an 80LB pig in the box. Its a Caja China box that we typically fit a pig into to smoke it with coals positioned on top for a few hours. However, this pig turned out to be too big as well. So the Lord had to take up his machete and go to work. Some of you may be extremely offended by what I am offering up here. Let me just say, it was all done in a spirit of revelry but most important, respect. We ate these whole animals, and they tasted delicious.

Gourmet Magazine was on hand taking pictures as well. Readers of that magazine can soon compare real journalism to my own gonzo journalism. I bet you that I got the better shots. You know… the flavor shots. In the neck and the butt.

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“Pig on the Spit Keeps on Turnin’… I don’t know where I’ll be tomorroowwww…”

I Wade in the Sun of the Reggae

Here is the celebration elements of the East Coast annual Fourth of July party. This year I celebrated my second anniversary, a seven piece reggae band played, and the guy with white hair in the video threw it down. The Endless Summer, pictured below.

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Bat Signal

Summer hiatus is over, people. I have made my move for the coming year, and am now settled in to my new apartment. Six long blocks down the road from the Olde Pro Lounge is the location where we barn-raised the Pro Lounge 2.0. Union Square, people. I have already eaten at all the pertinent restaurants excluding the Neighborhood Restaurant. Give me a call or drop me a line if you want to sneak over and check out that joint, or my new joint, or just a joint…

For the next couple of weeks I’ll be spending most of my free time down in Connecticut, so I may not be around in person a great deal, however… Now that the heavy lifting is over I will be returning to my internet production. Consider this is your spotlight in the sky. Batman has returned.

The Olde Pro Lounge:
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The New Pro Lounge:
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Big thank you to Lady C for sweating to my oldies… its not just junk in my trunk, its not just a Nightmare… its a record collection!

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