Hulk-smashed.

So I was around "The Ave" yesterday after work(outta training! five days a week! this is sounding like a livejournal!) and I stopped in for a whiskey. OK, two. Fine, my real intention was to go see Rubin & Ed tonight totally hammered. Well, not that hammered but anyway... I digress. I was a whiskey and a half in when this happened.

So yesterday 3/28, mid-afteroon I stopped in to one of my favorite bars. You were there too, but for not as long as me. You saw my hoodie as you were leaving and took it with you. I'm not really to clear on why you would do that, being that: 1) anyone that woke up yesterday knew it was going to be cold and/or snowing; 1a) probably dressed for the occasion; 2) could be so damn cold-hearted and selfish on such a day; and finally 3) it was mine.

That's a portion of my craigslist post. Yeah, someone jacked my hoodie. You can see the rest of it here. Be quick though, it's going to expire in six more days, according to the site.

Oh, and here's the hoodie, I'm all thumbs when it comes to CL apparently:



History has been made.

Bartender logic

I'm at Earl's yesterday evening, drinking on Royal Crown Cola, not Crown Royal 'n Coke and shooting straight eight. I'm losing since I seriously believe that booze makes me better. One Jameson and two PBRs would set me in the zone. I have eye witnesses. Anyway, back to the game. Finding myself two games down already, I excuse myself from my new Japanese pool master(this guy was almost too good) and head back to the bar for a refill. The bartender, who has been pouring me Tanqueray and tonics since I turned 21, says, "More Coke?"

"Please."

"You know it is a bad habit." (The bartender is French.)

"What? Coke? What about gin?"

I know how it works, unless the patron is either your best friend or the one that's writing you into the will, as a bartender, I'd rarely question an order unless the customer was getting sassy or crossyfaced. And always you'd get a personal taxi if you looked like you had an extra twenty bones to spend on getting home. But shit, she'd make a horrible tooth fairy.

Oh, and Steep? That extreme high skiing documentary? Save the evening ticket or even a matinee... just rent it. The cinematography will not be lost on your baby silver screen. It was enjoyable, just not mixing jujubees and buttered popcorn-munchable good.