Daily Loaf

As my friends continue to prove unable to handle their liquor, this hopes to become a series of helpful hints and amusing anecdotes which more experienced party-goers can use to ridicule friends who ill-advisedly drink beyond their means. It also sets up some pretty good photography. Here’s hoping they’ll still hang out with me.

A while back at our weekly poker game, one of our regulars decided to partake in a little Smirnoff 100. For those of you who haven’t ever had the misfortune of drinking this godforsaken beverage, Smirnoff 100 is just like regular vodka… except stronger. It is 100 proof rather than 80 proof, hence the name. Making it 20, carry the two, 10% more alcohol. I was told there would be no math.

At the beginning of the evening, I distinctly told my colleague to go easy drinking that stuff, as it would surely catch up with him. And it did.

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Routes Music is a documentary film acting as a roving music census, taking in the true musical passions (and disgusts) of the American people. We’re traveling all across the country, stopping along the way to interview local bands, take footage of live performances and chat with anyone and everyone. Learn more about the documentary here; check out all previous entries here.

The first thing we noticed on Austin’s infamous Sixth Street was the preponderance of clubs. Not the live music that Austin is known for, but booming bass beckoning babes in short skirts (and the dudes chasing them). Roads blocked off … police bored and leering … drunk college kids swaying from one sidewalk to another … a street musician, here or there, drowned out by the latest pop hits.

To find some music that wasn’t prerecorded, the Routes Music crew had to drive across town to locally-owned and operated Violins Etc., a full service string shop.

Inside, we were greeted by hundreds of violins – some brand new and ready for sale, others in various states of disrepair – as well as the employees who fixed them.
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Dream Momma,
I was in my car waiting in line at a gas station. When it was my turn to put gas in my car the pump was dry. I was furious all of the other drivers got gas and I didn’t.

Dear Gas Station Dreamer,
Did you know that the booze we all swill down with reckless abandon and the gas we all pump into our cars non-stop share a common chemical?  Reading your dream conjured up an image of a guy sucking on the end of a gas pump line. I pay attention to my images; they’re my buddies and usually spot on.  I tell you this because I think you’re a drunk being challenged not to drink.

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In Fearsome Creatures of Florida, Tampa author John Henry Fleming serves as taxonomist of Florida folklore, producing a wildlife handbook that could have been published by National Enquirer. This book breathes new life into real creatures and popular myths like the Skunk Ape and the Chupacabra. However, the beasts that stay with readers long after finishing the book are Fleming’s creations, like the ghost of the monkeynaut, Gordo, trouncing along the Space Coast in his shiny suit.

From David Hazouri’s sketched illustrations, I expected a Disney World version of swamp monsters. Instead I was confronted by Swiftian creatures that prey on the book’s true monsters: humans. These unnamed locals and tourists are lazy drunks more concerned with stocking their liquor cabinets than evacuating from a hurricane. Read the rest of this entry »