Two Missed Dinners and a case of Herpangina

So happenstance strikes again. Random run-in with Lauren from Fobia days-past was fantastic this last weekend. A party, a huge lunch, a bbq, a movie...it was on. It all lead to an invite from her to her place for dinner last night. Good thing I had to work. It was fantastic drinking kalimotxos and watching her prepare everything. It was a little bit of a let-down to have to leave her place literally as she was pulling the amazing looking dish out of the oven. C'est la vie. Consolation prize - a cherry galette which she sent with me...and I devoured for breakfast.

So anyway, left the dinner party to head to a Beast House party which was rad. And there was food. Thank god or I might have lost it. Went out for work until a little after 1 and was raging hungry. Guess what? Conveniently received a text message at 12:59 which read "I'll get u chinese food today" so I'm hyped. Chinese food? Love it. Today? Even better...I already missed one dinner. I would like a back-up dinner, I mean, who wouldn't? So I drive myself over to Uptown only to find myself with no chinese dinner. Appararently there are no chinese food places open at 2:00am on a Thursday night. Why this would be is pretty much not making sense to me. I would have paid at least $8 for chinese food at 2:00am. $9 if there would have been hot and sour soup. Instead I paid $7 for a Jack's pizza and a turkey and brie sandwich from Kowalskis.

Then, this morning, EC informs me that his boss, the wife of his boss, and he thinks he - have herpangina. That's right. Herpangina. Guess what? Herpangina is not a VD. It's not herpes. It has nothing to do with your gina. It's some weird sore throat thing that gives you blisters on your hands and feet. What the fuck? I'm moving off the couch. Contamination is my fear. Herpangina is it's name. I would also like to point out that the cause of herpangina is Coxsackievirus. Yeah - you read that right. Cox-sack-ievirus. This shit is made up.

The past 12 hours have been insane.

Whatever gets you to sleep at night

Now that the only person who thinks that Hilary Clinton can win the nomination is Hilary Clinton, Barack Obama is focusing his sights on garnering support with fence-riding Democrats. And the group that seems to be on the lips of all media hacks is the White Working Class, aka Reagan Democrats (a contradiction in terms that I enter as exhibit A for the case of why Americans are too stupid to deserve the vote).
Obama continually fails to get the vote of this group. In Oregon, around only 40% of WWCs voted for Obama, in Kentucky (no surprise here) it was less than 20%. Many have been quoted as saying they favor Hilary’s platform, and moreover, would rather vote for John McCain than Obama. Interesting. So, they prefer a moderately liberal president in Hilary Clinton, and barring that, they would rather a left-leaning Republican (whatever that means) who is constantly courting favor with the Neo-Cons. But just so we’re clear, this has nothing to do with race. It’s a matter of experience. Sure. That’s reasonable. And the general misconception that Obama is an elitist.
I love the fact that the black candidate, who has spent most of his professional career working with the working and lower-classes on the streets of Chicago, is the elitist. Not the Republican whose wife’s (albeit undisclosed) wealth is estimated in the hundreds of millions. And certainly not the candidate who grew up in fucking Park Ridge, Illinois (which is the archetype for Anytown, USA—it’s the suburbs personified), had a comfortable, upper-middle class upbringing, and has spent more than 20 million of her own money on her campaign. Nope, it’s Obama.
This bullshit is proof-positive that there are certain voters out there who simply aren’t comfortable with the idea of a black president, no matter how liberal they like to think they are. And interestingly enough, the WWCs aren’t alone. Just today, I was reading an article in the New York Times about retired Jewish Democrats in Florida (yes, they are still fucking it up for the rest of us) who plan to vote for McCain over Obama, because they don’t like Obama’s platform on relations with Israel. So, it’s a foreign-policy issue. Got it.
And a recent installation of Nightline reported how many liberal feminist groups are going to vote for McCain if Obama gets the nomination because they want Hilary to win. So, to follow that train of logic: if Hilary doesn’t get the nomination, feminists will vote for the Republican who waffles over Roe v. Wade depending on who’s fund-raising dinner he’s speaking at, in an effort to punish Obama for taking the nomination away from Hilary. (And apparently the next president will be appointing a new Supreme Court Justice. As things stand in the Supreme Court right now, one more conservative, Pro-Life judge is all that’s needed to repeal Roe v. Wade. But certain feminist groups are willing to risk it in order to teach us all that we should’ve voted for Hilary.) Right.
All of this obstinance in the face of reason can mean only one thing: we are still horribly racist in America. So much so, that people are willing to do things that actually go against what they supposedly want and desire, all in an effort to avoid a little extra melanin in the Oval Office. They can make a great case for foreign policy experience, being out of touch with working-class values, not having a uterus…but it’s all lip-service to their supposed color-blind, P.C. self-perception. The truth is they’re looking for any excuse not to vote for Obama. I just wish these people would have the balls (ovaries in the feminists’ case?) to tell it like it is: “I’m a racist piece of shit and I don’t want a black president.”

It's called hell...and I've been there.

FRIDLEY
ANDOVER
COON RAPIDS

Don't even bother going to any of the above listed towns. They have all been banned from my life. Don't try getting to them, don't have fun while you're there, and don't try to escape once they've got their claws around you...you'll only end up driving your life away. Just stay out of them and you'll be fine.

I heart my bicycle...SAVBAG

So these dudes are pretty much one of the elements of the world that just confuse me. Do they really think I believe them when they say they don't recall their personal earnings in 2007? Can they honestly stand before Congress, sworn in, and claim that they have no good explanation for sky-rocketing fuel prices? And that the simple fact that their company's profits have increased at ridiculous rates over the past five years?

These dudes are a-holes. Not because they're rich, not because they run oil companies, not because they aren't investing in reusable fuels - but because they are willing to stand up there and lie about something so obvious. Just say it! "We made a shit ton of money last year, and guess why? It's because we own something people want and need."

My hate is two-fold. These dudes are obvious. But I'd also like to hate/criticize on everyone who contributes to this problem (self included) and then just bitches. All of the miles driven by American's in their cars, trucks, SUVs, etc are absurd. The simple idea of carpooling, busing, walking, or riding a bicycle is so foreign to most Americans it's actually unbelievable. Do I think these options are best in all situations? No, of course not. But do I know, without a doubt in my mind, that I've made many a useless trip in my car when I could have walked, biked, bused, or called a friend who was going to the same spot and driven together? I'm just saying. SAVBAG is taking over. (Saint Anthony Village Bike Association Gang). Ride it.

Return of the Prodigal Hater: The Media, Still Blowing it on the Iraq War. Me, Trying Not To Blow it.

After a blissful couple of weeks of being low on hate and high on love and liking, I'm back to hating man.

I consider myself a part of the periphery of the media. I'm a staff writer for these guys; I'm a skateboard writer, hence, I'm a part of the fringe of the periphery of the media, but still, I try to take media matters seriously, and if in some meager way, apply it to my "journalism."

One of the ways that I attempt to bolster my media mind is by listening to On The Media; I've posted about these guys before. I rarely catch them on the radio, so I've taken to downloading them weekly. Recently I got behind on listening to my downloads, which meant that I started out today with their show from March 21, '08. I'd gotten rather behind.

The 03.21.08 show happened to be a re-cap show of all their coverage of the coverage of the War in Iraq; what a way to ring in a "Fifth Anniversary"! While I was well aware that the media, for that matter, most of the media, had blown their reportage of the war, what I found in the above episode of On The Media was nothing short of puke in your mouth sickening at times. Download it, pod it, and then find an activity where you can listen to the entire episode in entirety. (Note: I'm well aware that On The Media is a criticism show, and that they damn well intended to make me throw up in my mouth. Still, the fact that they can compile 50 minutes of audio that has the ability to do that to me is telling.)

Here's what bums me out, beyond the tragedy that is everything regarding the current war. The whole thing was a good slap in the face for me to get way more proper about my own work. I'd been making a push to slip in a little bit more "real talk" into my pieces, but really, it's a dicey activity. Piss off the wrong people and advertisers walk. Call out a skater and all of a sudden there's someone who will actually try to kick my ass for some dumb comment. Ridicule a video worth ridiculing (or supposedly ridicule a video), and I end up with someone saying "Fuck Gerbik". I don't want to sound like some gigantic pussy for stating all this, but I also want to have fun doing something I love and not worry about bullshit. All the while I find myself cringing while I dance around the fact that so and so skate video should never, under any circumstances, be purchased, and I worry about the feelings of some 16 year old kid while he blatantly lies to me in the middle of an interview.

Fuck it. Time for some "smart real talk," keeping my job, and having fun. And calling out teenagers; we hate them more than ever.

If It's Not From The Heart It Is Just Paper

Kyle received a birthday card today from his work. The CEO decided to include his personal business card in with the card. How self important do you have to think you are to think that someone would be hyped on receiving your business card for their birthday? I plan on e-mailing the douche and telling him that a business card is not a gift. In fact it is garbage. If this dill hole really believed that people would use the business card than I doubt he would ever send them out. Happy birthday...here's a slap in the fucking face. Well, I plan on using the business card to give this a-hole a piece of my mind. Down with the "corporate mentality".

suck it

p.s. I have not been hating or partying hence my absence.

Ground control to Major

It's just too hard to hate on such a beautiful day. I'm sure I'll be able to fit some in somewhere on this post, but I'm kinda swinging back to the party side of things with a few flicks I've shot over the past month or two that I really like. This first one is of Jamie and I on the night of our random adventure downtown. We both found ourselves solo at the RJD2 show and when we ran into each other we were both psyched (at least I was, she might have been faking). That show was amazing and the rest of the night was ridiculous. Somehow we ended up at the annex drinking for free and dancing with no one. I think we pretty

much spent the rest of the night roaming between the main room and VIP...two totally different nights between the two rooms. So much fun. So ridiculous. And I cannot salsa.

Next photo is a little more recent, me & the TG at his birthday bash at the Stag. If you didn't go you blew it. And by blew it I mean blew it (see photos below).











Don Damiano and a mystery head getting down. Did I make out with that head? Weird.





















Ante up. Bitches. Thanks to Mike the King 2600 for that gem. I think the crowd might have liked it. Just a little.










This might not look like a party...but trust me. It is. You know why? Because it's a couch and a coffee table pushed together with an airmattress on top. And I sleep on it. That's all you need to know.








So there you have it. I'm in a good mood and I didn't even hate at all. I've just been partying too hard - that and falling asleep during too many movies. I plan on keeping the streak alive this evening with a lovely dinner at Palomino to celebrate my girl Sarah's big day! (She just graduated from nursing school...big ups!) Then I'm headed to Park Tavern to celebrate Kyle's big day! (He was born on this day many moons ago). Then who knows? Movie I can't finish and Bed? I think maybe yes. Especially since it's so classy.

And don't forget! Tomorrow night...Wisconsin Party at the BH at 8...Stasiu's at 10pm...Shoreline will kill you and take your soul. Be there. Also - DC Ice's show is opening at Fox taxes. Don't blow it. Yea Art-A-Whirl!

OH WAIT!

who's pissed?

186 definitions why...

...being a poser is some childlike shit. Check out all 186 definitions for the term "poser" right here. I've scrolled thru a bunch...and the verdict is that there is nothing rad about being a poser. So....maybe some of all ya'll want to reconsider your shit.


Hmmm....

Are you fucking kidding me?

And a whole lot of other emotions that are spewing right now. So I kind of had a 180 in attitude today. I woke up feeling great - the airmattress/coffee table setup is working nicely. It was sunny out, I put on a skirt - didn't even need a sweater. Listening to Cut Copy, started a pleasant IM session, talking to the Saloon about an event, planning on going to Triple Rock tonight, City Page's "Best Of" party tomorrow, dinner at Palomino Thursday...the world was in order. Bombs have now been dropped and I'm sort of just sitting here. It doesn't even matter what the "bombs" were, just that something can swing my good mood so far in the other direction bums me out. I am one of those people who tries to have a lot of self control over my emotions and my actions. You all know me - I like control, I'm in charge, I make the decisions (to my detriment at times). I don't like when that is taken away from me, and I don't like that it can happen easily. Hopefully I get in the swing of things and rock the other way soon. I'd just like to give a big fuck you to other people having control. There - feeling better already.

FUCK ALL THAT. (rant)

On some FOR REAL shit....let's bring back a little slice of some mother fuckin hate here shall we. Yo...here we go:

THINK WITH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH CLOSED.

Do you really need to walk around asking questions that are so dumb that GOOGLE can't get you results, because your mom already told you 1,000 times before(and everyone's mom) so that query has been omitted from the entire FUCKING internet WITH your fuckin mouth gaping open accenting your second and third chins perfectly. You're profile was looking stellar as this went down. REAL HYPED on that shit. Nothing (shy of a dunce cap) would make you look any dumber than you already looked while you wasted oxygen living, and speaking just now in my presence.


FUCK man....FUCK.

HPC Special Report: Hating Still Low, Partying Still Up

Even with all the rain, new living situations, emotional roller coasters, and so forth, the past couple of weeks have left me with very little to hate, a lot of partying, and a general sense of well being. So, hating? What about things I'm loving (mainly party-ass things)?

-A's wrapped up in three of four classes. Totally the least party of these bullets.

-Art show dance party keggers.

-Being paid to talk to this guy and this guy.

-Hearing a first hand explanation of this.

-This.

-All the other parties and randomness and all the people involved. Look no further for the definition of the fake life.

If I've got to hate on something, and be it a nominal hate, it's these two things, but I can't get too mad at 'em:

-Skunked by Mother Nature. Rescheduled, might even be better that way.

-Good luck in NYC Viking. But who isn't moving there right now?

-Blogger's totally fuck-o link setup right now. Oh, but the new link in the code for one half way up the page? Cool!

Party on the Run

So, I don't get to party too often these days. I've got to make it count. This is how it goes down: infrequently, and with stars of reality TV. Check it.

I would like to hate...

on this. Blowing it dudes. Really blowing it.

I was really looking forward to reading something today from any of you. Thanks a lot.

Andrew W. K.

So the picture of Max dominating me kind of explains how the past few weeks of my life had been.


Meaning...it didn't take much to knock me down and keep me there for a minute. No blame to myself or others...I'm just hating on life throwing curve balls. I do want to say that I absolutely agree with Mr. Gerbik...Hater Party Crew had been hating hard core, and maybe it's time to focus on the party.

So focus on the party I shall...please note the following exhibits...shennanighans abound when you're in the windy city. There were meet-ups of epic proportions; including a fabulous stay at the 5 star Kemi-Inn, a reunion (and introduction) of our Chicago HPC pal everythingeverything, and a random (yet totally not) meet up with Lisa and Lulu. So, for those of you in HPC who didn't make it to the Chiz...please say you'll come next time. And for those non-HPC members who did come...thanks for the memories. I will walk 4 miles to party with any of you any day.

Mean mugs...or drunk mugs. Either way they're cute.

Ignore the fact that I'm red. I wasn't drunk. I swear. Finger bangs are boring to Chicagoans.

But if you're bored just look for David. He lights up the room...and my heart...





















I still don't think he's a zombie. But he does know how to party.













Had you already ditched us for a gazelle and a taxi at this point? Whatever. Who cares.















Umm...you had to be there.
















And they were.

The Fake Life is Catching On

So the Hater Party Crew hasn't had much to hate about lately. Is that bad? I didn't think so either. One thing that's been lacking thus far for this blog is some good old party. I just got my card reader back from our girl Extreme, and managed to post some proper party pics. So it's like that.

Onwards to Fake Life. I see two members of the HPC have embraced the idea on their other blogs, here and here.
Good to see that, but I must stress the fact that Fake Life has nothing to do with the letter "y", so let's not get it twisted.

As for a definition of the Fake Life. Let's see, it boils down to doing exactly what you want to do, mostly work, a little pleasure, and otherwise, with the best people in the world around you. That's pretty concise, right? Good.

Here's to the guy that coined the term "Fake Life", Mr. Steve Nesser. You can witness his capers here and otherwise just keep an eye on skateboarding to get it otherwise.

In conclusion, I'll say we focused far to much on the hating for far too long. Here's to a damn good party.