Category Archives: food

sensory deprivation = over!

posted by:  audra

okay.  look, kids–i know this hasn’t been easy…for any of us.  i miss the weekly recounts of my life just as much as you do!  believe it!  and i have gotten scolded…many a time…for having this much fucking time on my hands & not blogging.  but! it’s all i can do to not sit in front of a screen all day, talking about myself.  it’s been a struggle not to do so, but here you go.  it’s all going to be purged…even old posts from weeks & weeks ago that were never posted!  exciting, right?!  and so, we begin….

august 20-something, 2009:

an elitist’s guide to sea-rattle:  dive bars, lamb & a bus stop

okay.  so.  i know, right?  you’ve been sitting around, waiting for the night to come, or whatever.  at least i have.  you want to know ALL about what the biscuits & i have been up to?  of course you do!  i should have probably made a little note saying ‘sigh…we will be on temporary blog sabbatical for a bit…’ so that y’all didn’t throw a hissy.  but i didn’t.  and now that hissy has come & you’re sick of checking for new posts.  i know my friends well, so i know it’s happened…

disclaimer:  this is neither charming nor witty….like you’re used to.  continue if you wish…

so kids…sam & i had THE most lovely vacay in seattle EVER.  seriously.  like, better than new orleans, london, paris & the coast of italy combined.  for realsies.  believe it.  in seattle, of all places!  we met THE most incredible people EVER.  ever.  and then we came home & then i come into work the next day to find out that i have been fired.  i’ve realized since that day that i’m much too pretty to work there, so it’s for the better.  and anyway, who wants to hear about that?!  not you.  so….

the first night we were in seattle, we stumbled upon this bar i’d found on yelp called the nitelite.  please, please go here iffn’ you’re in the mood for a cranky bar-maid, divey slabtown-esque setting& craving something called taco fries.  de-fucking-licious.  it’s this ridiculously gross looking pile of fries with taco meat, jalapeños, sour cream, tomatoes & cheese.  jesus christ.  i literally was so sick & feeling awful that i was running a fever when we arrived last-last-last thursday night, & these babies totally cured me.  that, and some beer.  these fucking d & d idiots sat next to US (of course), so we had the honor of listening to the different methods & such of dungeons & dragons.  they’re quite lucky i wasn’t feeling well, was getting drunk & had the taco fries on my side.  in fact, the bartender repeatedly asked them if they were ‘actually going to order’ and if not, then to ‘get out of her establishment’.  awesome.  even she knew they were idiots.

the next day was the pinnacle of our trip.  we have the most uh-mazing friends ever, and are SO lucky to have them… friday was the 2-year anniversary of our dear, dear friend seth’s death.  our lovely friends k & a hosted an amazing soiree with all of seth’s close friends, and i tell you what, it was such an honor to be at a gatheringsurrounded  by his nearest & dearest, and to be included in something like that.   there were some incredible experiences surrounding all of that, including getting a town car escort sorta by accident.  anyway, we love you guys to death & miss you terribly already! 

saturday after le party, we slept until 2 or 3-ish.  sam & i–in typical cuntington fashion—got coffee & ended up hoofing it to the funhouse, a rad little venue/bar where some of our very close pdxoxo bands play often.  perhaps you should know that at this point, i am NOT showered, NOT made-up, NOT wearing clean clothes, nor are my teeth or hair brushed.  believe it.  i’m wearing 2 dirty black tank tops, dirty jeans, a leopard headscarf, huge sunglasses & converse.  i know, right?!  see, if you think i never go out in public undone, you’re right.  but maybe in a foreign city i might.  this, or course, is when we run into mutual friends of friends.  and also drink breakfast bloodies…

…because this lovely little venue, and lovely it is…does not serve food.  real food, anyway.  the waitress stated that they ‘have a microwave’ and ‘unless you want a hungryman frozen dinner, you’re better off next door.’   so we drank our breaky drinks & walked to the best bar ever, the 5 point café.  just hearing someone else say ‘hungryman’ is embarrassing enough. 

kids, you don’t know what you’re missing until you’vebeen to the 5 point.  incredible people, super-laid-back, delicious diner food, and a fucking rad juke box.  we had gone to this place on friday afternoon prior to the seth-party & lurrrrved  it.  it felt like home; i never wanted to leave.   it’s not touristy in the least, so you’ll meet the bestest locals EVER.  the sexy bartenders are nice if you’re nice to them.  the bathrooms are clean, but one drunky away from being gross, which is what i like.  the clubhouse is perfectly mayonaissed & baconed.  the omelets are fluffy & cheesy.  you’ll likely hear the cult, mother love bone & mudhoney.  if the regulars like you, they may give you half of their peanut butter cup—straight from the freezer.  and then hug you on your way out the door.  and if you’re lucky, their number & email address.   this place has been around since 1929, or whatever, for obvious reasons.   heart, heart!  i fucking love the 5 point.  thank you, babies!

le saturday afternoon after our booze breakfast, sam & i went back to the hotel max where we were residing, to you know, shower & such.  maybe sober up a spot, too.  we then made our way to a cab to explore capitol hill.  love, love, love, you guys!  it’s sooo quiet & rad up there, i nearly passed out.  after spending waaay too much time & money in sonic boom records, i asked this super-hip & attractive gentleman passing by which bar he would recommend.  he rattled off several places, so we sort of walked around peering in doors to investigate.  nothing really spoke to us until we came upon smith, the last place he’d mentioned.  i could live in smith.  really.  it’s dark, minimalistic, but cozy.  taxidermied heads of various animals & birds mounted tastefully(!) on the walls next to abstract portraits of important americana figures past.  the bathrooms are super dark, with the stalls made out of very old doors.  the sink is mounted in an old sideboard.  delicious.  the servers are really fucking hot, really fucking nice, and the jukebox contains sleater-kinney, heliosequence & the jam.  we ordered some marrow bones with bruschetta ($9) to start.  sam had a burger for around $12 (& mentioned it was possibly better than the slow burger?!), and i had a steak & potatoes with duck fat for 14 bucks.  ridiculously underpriced, fantastic atmosphere, rad servers……sigh!   i’m kicking myself that we didn’t take hardly ANY pictures the entire trip…especially of the food—and the hot people we met.  anyway, at smith we drank several really amazing local beers…which embarrassingly enough, i have no idea what they were…but then went on a quest to find another bar we’d been dying to visit:  the redwood. 

it took asking 3 different people on the street (after walking around drunk & aimlessly by ourselves) to find it.  but when we did, it was like a glowing oracle.  i’d been DYING to come here, you guys.  i read about this thing, this ‘seattle dog’, which is a hot dog smothered with cream cheese.  i nearly had a coronary.  the redwood is supposed to haveit….but upon sitting at the bar, it was nowhere in sight.  we sat awhile & noticed a cute little couple sit next to us.  but i was ready to leave.  the bartender wasn’t very good, my creamy hot dog wasn’t present & i was tired.  my breakfast bloodies were really starting to kick in.  the music was terrible too.  i think we were there long enough to hear the allman brothers greatest hits record twice.  gross.  i’m pretty sure we put some money in the juke at this point…the only song i remember playing was ‘transmission’…

and thanks to ian curtis, it lead us to make instant bffs with the cute couple sitting at the bar next to us.  we began bantering back & forth about music, & ended up doing a bit of bar-hopping with them for the rest of the evening.  i felt a bit out of sorts, what with my frump-wear:  black top, cuffed skinny jeans & converse…but somehow my sparkling personality was still able to shine through.  thanks baby jesus!  the four of us went to the buck  for a few drinks; cute place, crowded, small, nice servers…and three words:  wasabi grilled cheese.  whilst i didn’t have the time to make gastronomic love to my grilled cheese, it was still enough to make me wanna go back.   and so, after we passed the buck, we managed to find this fabulous little bar called the bus stop. 

the bus stop = hot staff, amazing dj (book of love + old new order!), small, intimate classy bar posing as a dive.  it’s the bartender’s bar.  the owner is beautiful, super-nice & he’ll be disgustingly attentive–even if he’s busy.  believe it.  you’ll love it, babies!  promise!  and be sure to stop in the cute little vintage store next door…there just might be a glamorous tranny begging you to come in & take a look at a few oddities.  just sayin…

sunday i believe we slept in…again…and perhaps went for a little walk around.  i think it was hot?   i don’t really remember.  but i do remember meeting our lovely, lovely friend bianca for sushi at the red fin at the hotel max.  yours truly ordered something called the yummy roll; skrimp tempura with cream cheese (!) wrapped up with some sort of fluorescent orange roe on top…salmon roe maybe?  yummy indeed.  b had the las vegas roll, and sam something neither of us remember… but i believe it too had cream cheese & definitely eel.   lovely…but not the greatest place ever.  the alcoholic in me ordered a tasteful lychee martini, but of course followed that up with a vodka tonic after the sushi.  delicious.  we then talked bianca into going back to the bus stop with us; it happened to be karaoke night.   god bless that bar.  i swear on chanel i would have done something, but those fucks were gooood  in there.  intimidatingly good.  had it been a bar with dirty old men & ladies lubed up with jean nate, i totally would have pulled off my best sophie b. hawkins, but for god’s sake….

monday = DEPECHE MODE DAY.  yes, kids– the whole day.  except for the break we took for dinner at ten mercer with our friends g-mae, adrian & new friend tucker.  i highly recommend the rack of lammy.  the place was cool, but our server was kinda cunty…like rushing us a bit too much.  it’s busy.  so?   anyway, sam had the crab ravioli, which was lovely….there’s also a succulent duck breast on the menu.  i love breasts AND ducks.  damn. 

while the lamb was lovely, it caused us to miss the ENTIRE peter, bjorn & john set.  believe it!  wellsies….not the lamb alone, but maybe primping & preening…and sleeping in too late.  and what’s with key arena not allowing booze INTO the shows?!  you have to chug your drinks real quick-like & haul ass back to your seat?   whatevs.  not a fan.   but our seats on the floor were uh-maze-ing & dépêche totally would have ripped my knickers to shreds, had i been wearing them.   one of the best.  shows.  ever.  ever!  including bowie!  and peej!  and i know we say that all the time, but totally really mean it this time!  here’s a little treat from what you missed:

thank god i was there for you, right?!  yes, yes…the audio & such is bad, but i didn’t post it.  i just relay the festivities. 

fuck, this is getting long…sorry loves.  see?   this is what i get for being afraid of falling into the internets-coma & avoiding the computer at all times while i’m newly unemployed.  i just do my nails & chain-smoke instead.  seems healthier somehow.  but anyway….

so, before heading back to the room directly after the show, we dragged our friends back to the five point café once again.  man, i can’t say enough how much i love that place.  this was the third trip to the five point & first time i saw it with standing room-only….  which normally i would throw a hissy fit & leave…but with this place, was happy.  people SHOULD be coming here.  it SHOULD be packed on a monday night at 11.  …or not.  if i lived in seattle, i’d probably be real cunty towards the assholes that were taking up space in OUR bar.  but, whatever.  i got my omelet & some beer; sam got some fried mac & cheese wedges.  we closed the night with the amazing crystal, and then a night-capping serenade with this homeless, but surprisingly well dressed man named pops.  he said to look him up on youtube…and fucking hell, he was  good…but sadly, i didn’t find him.  sigh!

the end was sad.  real sad, for realsies!  but fortunately, we were lucky enough to have one night with our lovely, cute couple we had met at the redwood, in pdxoxo the next week.  we love & miss you kittens!  the photobooth at east end will never be the same…

….and we are fucking LAME we have like, zero photos of our own.  we seriously packed our camera everywhere, too.  i suppose i should just believe that we were having too much fun to take pictures.  and i think that we were. 

loves.

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talk of hot dogs, bladder infections & half-assed movie reviews

posted by:  audra

good evening, lovelies.  did everyone have a blow-your-head-off/i-just-ate-16-hot-dogs-awesome father’s day weekend?  i did.  except there were no wieners involved whatsoever.  this time.  at least in the frankfurter sense.  i managed to avoid all processed meats and processed cheeses(!) this weekend in favor of cooking things that are good for me at home.  aaaand, i worked out both saturday and sunday.  which never, ever happens on the weekend…  aaaand, lost 2 pounds.  finally.

my current weight:  158.0.

which is good.  considering the first week — my efforts consisted of 2 days of sweating & eating well, then following that up with 5 days of laze & massive amounts of beer consumption…along with gratuitous snacking.  i’m gross.

anyway, this last friday night we went a’trolloping to whole foods, which always inspires me to eat well.  it’s the one place i actually enjoy grocery shopping.   i picked out some lovely filet mignon & gathered some things for a potato salad…don’t worry!  the cute kind of potato salad!  not the yellow kind with cut up egg, mayo & relish!  this one is some sort of french recipe i had scrawled onto a note card in 2001(!).  i think it’s from saveur magazine…?  and why i didn’t just cut the thing out of the mag, i’ll never know.   anyway, the salad consists of fingerling potatoes (whole foods was out; i used baby reds), lots of tarragon, good kosher salt, cracked pepper & champagne vinegar.  that’s it!  oh, & apparently some mayonnaise…even though i would swear it was olive oil & vinegar based…it had likely been seven years since i’d last made it & i didn’t remember assembling it with mayonnaise like the recipe had suggested…but i followed along & did the mayo anyhow.  it only called for 3-4 teaspoons, but…

next time i’ll leave it out.  i think just some olive oil would be much, much better.

so that was that, & with some of this, and to start we had my favorite, favorite come-in-your-panties-amazing goat milk truffle tremor cheese, a triple creme delice de bourgogne, and a lovely oregon gorgonzola…cleverly or retardedly named oregonzola.  i can’t decide which.  i took some drunken photographs of the half-eaten cheese plate, only to realize later how gross it looked smeared across a pink depression glass plate.  maybe next time i’ll think first.

yeeeeah, sorry about that.  but the little dish of honey?  lover-ly with the delice de bourgogne.  amazing, in fact.

this was the filet mignon & such…i know it looks ghetto!  and sparse!  it does!  but it was awesome.  i swear it.  next time i’ll dress the plate up with flair & glitter…but i was super-tired & starving by this time.  this photo is purely for ‘proof that i made it’ purposes.  we had some sort of cheap $17 pinot from california with it, too.  block 45 or something?  i don’t remember…but it wasn’t terrible!

saturday was completely unproductive.  i had lofty plans of getting up early (9 or 10-ish), getting all of the laundry done, including the sheets, clearing off the patio, cleaning the floors & being showered & dressed-up by 3pm.  but i should know by now that once these sort of inspirational plans are sought, i will fail tremendously at them.

i got up at 1:00.  then realized that we needed haricot verts, basil & some fresh anchovies for the niçoise platter i was to put together later.  i did minimal cleaning, if any, read my book, melted some fat off of my thighs–courtesy of mustang sally–and was barely out of the shower at 5.  which in turn, landed us back at whole foods around 6:30.

i think dinner commenced at 9 or 9:30 that night after a floundered attempt at watching nighthawks (not the one that was made in the 80s with sylvester stallone, you guys!  jesus!), supposed to be “very controversial” & “daring”1970s film about gay men in london.  this one guy’s a middle school teacher, so he’s forced to be closeted, blah blah blah, then goes out to the clubs to fag it up at night…leading a double life.  sound exciting?  it’s not.  it’s totally boring & i would swear there is absolutely no dialog within the first 20 minutes of the film–in a non-dramatic way.

anyway, this niçoise platter…so easy, you guys… so easy!  if you make this for your friends, i promise they will think you are brilliant in the kitchen & love you forever!  you might even get laid.  it’s that pretty.  you just make a french potato salad (not the tarragon one i mentioned before, but one with basil, flat-leaf parsley, scallions & a vinaigrette–dijon mustard, champagne vinegar, olive oil, good kosher salt & cracked pepper.), & assemble the rest:  grilled ahi steaks, arugula, steamed haricot verts, good anchovies, kalamata olives, heirloom tomatoes & a hard-cooked chicken egg.  i took drunken photographs of this too…nothing great, but you get the picture…

sunday was a movie day that totally made up for that nighthawks debacle!  first we watched a french horror/ thriller, set in romania that we’ve been dying to watch called them (ils in french).  get this immediately.  i’m not even kidding.  i even gambled on a bladder infection because i didn’t want to pause it to make a break for the loo!

…and we also watched dear zachary.  a documentary made by a guy named kurt who loves his childhood friend andrew.  andrew gets murdered by his psychotic ex-girlfriend.   kurt goes all over searching for the people who were in andrew’s life, & interviewing them.  drama ensues.  and i’m telling you, i’ve never cried so much during a movie everrrrr. that shit ripped my heart out.  watch it this weekend, you guys!  it’s amazing.

sigh.  okay.  that’s it.  you’re caught up.  goodnight!  i love you!

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a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips

posted by:  audra

i’ve read this phrase twice today.  on two completely different, unrelated blogs.  curious!  is it a sign, perhaps?  god, i hope not.  after reading it not once, but twice, i was absolutely starving to the point of passing out.  well…not really,but i thought i might if i didn’t eat a cookie immediately.

and i don’t even like cookies.  especially ones that come out of wrappers, but i didn’t really have any other options at the time.  so, i nibbled a bit & ended up tossing most of it.  packaged cookies are always disappointing.  totally a bad idea!

i felt better about disposing the remaining bits, but felt gross & disgusted with myself immediately.  not that my diet is the greatest, but i don’t go around eating shitty cookies all day for god’s sake!  or ever, for that matter.  i went to the powder room & brushed my teeth & tongue harder than i have in awhile, which reminded me of the receding gum line i’ve produced by doing just that.  fuck.

anyway, ‘a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips’ would just not shut the fuck up in my head.  does anyone else get that?  phrases or words stuck in your head on repeat, like getting a song in your head?  is that normal?  i started replaying it constantly, & now i totally believe it.  it is true.  even if you burn it all off doing yoga booty ballet, there are still traces of that fucking cookie in your system forever, probably, right?!

i couldn’t think about anything else at this point, so i investigated the phrase further…just to learn more about this smug, impossibly thin whorelette who thought she was so clever rhyming lips & hips.   come on, any retard could come up with that.

so, i googled the phrase origin.  i visualized an image of a pert, young thing dining on pomegranate seeds & water emerging.

instead, i got this.

yes, kids.  ceruleanbutterfly.com is a pro-anorexia/bulimia website that promotes eating disorders.  wait!  there is a correction on the home page:

In the beginning, we were associated more with the ‘pro-anorexia’ movement; however over the years, as our site has grown and developed, our stance has changed. We now consider our site to be not ‘pro-anorexia’, but ‘pro-reality’. Our mission is to educate people from all backgrounds about what exactly an eating disorder is, as well as providing knowledge of the dangers and threats associated with the issue.

fine.  blah, blah, blah…  and i know that everything exists on the internet, but it’s still appalling.  jesus, the quotes?  it appears that they have removed them from their main website, or whatever…but still.  i love annas & skinny bitches just as much as the next gal, but who really wants to nestle their head betwixt the thighs of a girl with a life philosophy like this:

Starvation is fulfilling. Colors become brighter, sounds sharper, odors so much more savory and penetrating that inhalation fills every fibre and pore of the body. The greatest enjoyment of food is actually found when never a morsel passes the lips.

what the fuck ever!  her hip bone would totally take an eye out!  clearly this poor girl is an idiot, & clearly she has never eaten a piece of bloody lamb with a glob of triple crème brie.  it’s exhausting just thinking of all the deprivation.

that’s my rant for the evening, loves.  i’m starving, & i suspect i’ll be grilling some brats with bleu cheese, just to spite that fucking cookie from this morning…and that god damn phrase.

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a town called malice

posted by:  audra

well, kittens…  what is everyone doing this weekend?  gallivanting gayly through the woods?  going on a three-day drinking/show bender?  attending a  housewarming thrown by one of the best party-throwers you know?  using the pedegg for the first time?  buying a bumpit & making your hair luxuriously big?

i think it’s safe to say i won’t be doing any of these things over the weekend.   buuut, don’t fret:  lots of drinking will ensue.  for suresies.

sam & i will be crossing many a county line tomorrow morning, somewhat early-ish, to stay with my parents for a few days.  seeing them will be nice, but i’m never real enthused to go back to my hometown.  i don’t belong there, & every time i go back i feel more detached from it.   in a good way.  thanks, baby jesus!  but…my parents are fun.  they like the sauce.  and not in a ‘hey-that’s-my-beer-cozy!’ way, either.   there’s pinochle…lots of it.   i hate card games, really i do — well, all games in general actually — but i’m rather good at this one & it makes me feel smarter & cunning, much like a fox in drag.

but anyway!  honestly, i’d much rather stay in pdxoxo this weekend, maybe see a show, perhaps watch the boys in the band again, & definitely cook something.  it seems like it’s been months since i made something in the kitchen that didn’t have to be slit open to allow steam to escape whilst in the microwave.  pathetic!

fuck, where was i going with this…?  random, right?!  oh well.  it’s gone too far now that it’s impossible for me to slow my roll.  i’ll try to keep it on track for you, loves.  i suspect that i will get lots of magazining done this weekend, as there’s not much to do when one is 200 miles away from the nearest sephora.  i may even take pictures of this event.  like i did at thanksgiving, reading up on demi-glace in my mom’s saveur, in the guest bed, at 3am.  the lump on the right in the photograph is sam’s leg:

i thought i would come home, become an expert, make demi-glace & blog about it.

i made it as far as the reading part.

i blame the article that was likely about booze, with a title stolen from david sedaris.  well, maybe he’s not the origin of the phrase, but i’d like to think he is:

this time i intend to get caught up on all sorts of fashion news…i think i’m at least two issues of harper’s bazaar and vogue behind!  i have a stack of food mags as well…there will be absolutely no excuse for me not to cook now.  none at all.  i’ll take drunken photographs too, just as proof!  you’re excited!

i take that back — if it gets hotter than fuck next week upon our return, i will not be cooking.  i’ll be doing cocktail hours out, perhaps before getting a cock in my tail.  what?!  i know.  this is a bullshit post & i’m sorry!  the next one will be worth your time!  promise!

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queers, five years & saturday’s mistake: the conclusion

posted by:  audra

i was so starving & pissed at this point, & had consumed enough wine that i snapped.  mid-shot, i interrupted his photo-taking & hissed, “excuse me, are you going to be doing that all night?” i did!  i totally hissed!  he then of course apologized profusely & noted that he was taking blurry shots for the website & that i would definitely not be in any other shots.  whatever!  you’re still annoying the fuck out of me!  but he did move, & i didn’t see him for the rest of the night.  good work, audra.  good work.

entrees finally arrive & my thighs start sweating:   i ordered the grilled leg of lamb with green herb yogurt, chick pea fritters & a salad of orange & fennel…sam got the grilled sirloin with shallot butter, roof greens & fries.  we weren’t very impressed about the fries part…couldn’t they come up with something a bit more swank?  at least serve them in a cute little cup like this place does?  whatever!  everything was fairly good; except that sam’s meat was a little overdone.  actually, a lot overdone.   and if sam thinks it’s overdone, it’s way overdone.  my lamb was a little on the cool side, too.  it seems to me that they were leaving entrees out to rest too long before serving them.  again with the under-staffing issue!  anyway, the wine we chose to have with dinner was perfect…and oopsies, i have no idea what it was!  i wasn’t all that impressed with the wine-list either.  this being a wine place, you’d think i would be…but 6 years working in the wine industry, i’m hard to please when it comes to wine lists.  maybe it was just the by-the-glass list i wasn’t impressed with.  hmm.  whatevs.  i’m probably just being a bitch.

we did dessert & paid our check quickly…as oddly enough a really weird guy that we sort of know was seated less than a foot away from me, with his date.  she was really pretty & i have no idea what the fuck she was doing with him.  clearly she’s an idiot!  he spent the whole time texting while she sat & stared at her drink.  we don’t know this guy well, only through a friend of ours, and have only been around him twice.  but he’s a real loser & thinks he’s some big fucking treat.   i’ve witnessed him giving pcp to a friend when said friend thought it was just a regular joint.  anyway!   i can’t stand him.  he’s bad news.  luckily, we hadn’t seen him in a few years so he didn’t recognize us before we split.  so! close!

walking back to the car, i stumbled a few times.  i did.  what the fuck!?  i had four glasses of wine total, over the course of maybe 3 hours.  that’s nothing to me!  that’s just warming up!  whatever… i shrugged it off & got into the passenger seat.

not 3 blocks down the street & i have to ask sam to pull over.  i know i’m not going to be sick or anything gross like that, but i just could not be in the car.  super dizzy, you guys!  seriously!  do i need to remind you i only had 4 glasses of wine?!  so he drops me off in this parking lot, & i literally stumble over to the curb.  i can’t believe i didn’t fall down or scuff my shoes or something!  i was totally fucked up!  whoopsies!

i sat for a couple minutes, looking at my shoes, hoping i wouldn’t be sick on them, wondering why in the world i was so drunk & finally teetered my way back to the car.  it was so horrible!  i don’t think i’ve staggered so much, even in my drunkest drunkenness ever!  once i did make it back into the car, i was totally fine.  my drunkenness seemed to disperse as quickly as it had come on.  weird, right?!  i blame it on the one glass i had at le bar de skeeze earlier!  what else could it have possibly been?!   i just don’t know…but something fucked me up beyond recognition, as i went to bed at 11:00 that night.  eleven o’clock!  not my usual 4am antics, no!  eleven o’clock.  believe it.

i can say that there is something good that came out of my going to bed totally yet accidentally wasted at 11 on a saturday night:  i got up before noon sunday morning.  this never, ever happens & i’m kinda proud of myself!  this allowed us to watch all three of our netflix films in one day!  before dark!  this week’s was a fag themed one:  three of hearts, divine trash & the boys in the band.

three of hearts was kinda…meh.  i was real excited for it; documentary – one gay couple married to a woman, so they have this hot threesome thing going on, even though none of the three are really all that hot.  anyway, the woman gets pregnant at the beginning of the doc & they pretty much ruin it with that.  it’s mostly baby stuff from there on out, so i lost interest.

divine trash.  john waters documentary.   enough said!  get it!  i’m hoping to do some geneology maybe sometime real soon &  find out that john is my uncle.  wouldn’t that be rad?!

the boys in the band is fucking uh-mazing!  i’m super-embarrassed that we hadn’t seen it yet!  it’s super-intense & done in what feels like real time…like you’re there hanging out with them without any missing blocks of time, you know?  it’s like queer as folk & who’s afraid of virginia woolf? had a baby & it’s brilliant.  love, love, love.   in fact, as soon as it was over, i had to pop in virginia woolf because boys had put me in such a tizzy for it.  get the boys in the band right this very second, it will totally change your life!

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queers, five years & saturday’s mistake: part two

posted by:  audra

…because apparently, the “cash thing” is “an asshole”…at least according to the girl behind the bar.  finally, the “cash thing” spits out a receipt disguised as an error code, which prompts bar girl to call her manager, who is not on site…but maybe we can “wait around until he shows…?”  she then asks sam to write down his debit card number on a piece of paper so that they can “charge it later”.  you can imagine my frustration at this point.  instead of complying with her sketchy request, sam finds an atm & opts to get $20 out.  for 2 drinks, our tab came to $11, which is not unreasonable.  we pay with the 20, & she hands him back $12.  so, not only can she not use a modern p.o.s program properly, she can’t do basic math!  we conclude that this is alright with us considering our experience thus far & take the extra couple of bucks.  shut up!  you would totally do the same thing!  this place was sick!  not dive-bar-sick in the least…just icky.

in desperate need to take a rape-shower but nowhere to take it, we head back upstairs for our table.  lip gloss will have to suffice.  still, more waiting.  at least 20 minutes worth.  all the while listening to a frizzy-haired ‘actress’ from l.a., wearing a stretchy american apparel frump dress with cowboy boots & a denim jacket go on & on about her next role, opposite brittany murphy: do you know who she is you guys, and ohmygod, & how on both sides of my family there is a long history of suicide, isn’tthatweirdyouguys i was like whoa! really?  jesus!

okay.  things are getting better.  we’re now seated.  deep breath.  wait, where’s our server?  are they like, seriously under-staffed?  please tell me that 4 servers called in sick or something?  i realize saturday nights are busy…but they have a good reputation & should be prepared for this type of thing, wouldn’t you think?  it took at least 10 minutes just to order a glass of wine!  but thanks, baby jeebus, for having the elk cove rosé.  that was lovely to start with & was perfect with our cheese plate.  even though i can’t remember the names of any of the cheeses besides gorgonzola, triple crème & white, that was still really very nice of you.  it almost canceled out the time i asked you for a tranny for christmas & you didn’t deliver.  almost.

then something went awry, just when they were looking up.  some dick photographer decides to set up shop right.  next.  to us.   literally like 6 inches away from our table.  god, i was so pissed!  total disregard.  had he whispered a “pardon me you guys but you two are so incredibly delicious & i just want a photograph of you to masturbate to later, and this will just take a second…sorry for the disruption.” i would have been cool with it.  it was fine at first, but he just stayed there snapping pictures in my face for like 10 minutes, breathing on our four cheeses.  finally he moved & went to bother someone else, only to return moments later…

…to be continued tomorrow, my pets.

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queers, five years & saturday’s mistake: part one

posted by:  audra

good evening, my little tartlettes!  i do hope you all had a swell weekend.  and since you’ve been biting your nails down to the quick in anticipation of what we did over our weekend, i’ll tell you — but this will have to be done in segments because gossip girl is on tonight & we all want to see what happens!

friday night was lame.  it was supposed to be part two of this, just for the lush list, & that didn’t happen.  but she hasn’t been blogging lately (shame!) so i don’t think she’ll notice anyway, right?  sigh!  no, friday night was for drinking & i can honestly say i have no recollection of what we even did for dinner that night.  it’s completely gone.  i do however, remember scanning in a whole bunch of pictures from like 9 years ago, uploading them onto facebook & then promptly deleting them out of embarrassment.  i did put that polaroid up for you, though (you’re welcome).  that night was the night of one of the best parties ever, and happened to be my marc jacobs shoe debut.  2003.  yes.  sigh…so young, so young.  and just so you know, i do have totally normal hands…even though my left one in the photograph looks like a paw.  it was just bad posing on my part.  at least i kept my legs together!  holla!

saturday was our five year wedding anniversary.  believe it.  don’t worry though — we’re not gross like that!  we did not do the traditional anniversary gift exchange like most couples do (the five-year one = wood.  smirk!), nor did we exchange stupid cards or anything lame like that.  i did not get pissed when sam came home without flowers in his hand.  no.  we’d planned on purchasing tickets to pj & john parish, which is happening very, very soon-ish & i’m asking baby jesus not to sell out of them before we get around to actually making this purchase because we’re lazy & didn’t really get around to it this weekend.

sigh!  anyway!  sam & i slept in a bit, chain-smoked on the patio & after completing an extensive menu for the evening (anthony bordain’s haricot verts & asparagus, seared filet mignon, & lobster with endive & maybe a pavlova – maybe), we decided to go out.  it was sort of warm outside & i wasn’t thrilled about searing bloody meat over high heat indoors.  i get hot.  you understand.  i also wanted to avoid frolicking off to the store as much as possible…so, we agreed upon this place, since embarrassingly enough, neither of us had ever been.  i wasn’t in the mood for stuffiness & definitely not in the mood for assholes, so this seemed perfect.

if we left the house early enough, one would think there would be no need to make reservations, right?  i mean, who eats dinner at 5:30?  but 5:30 turned into 6:30, which turned to 7:00.  i had a major makeup-meltdown in the bathroom when i was about 10 minutes away from being completely ready & almost cried.  i threw makeup brushes at the closed bathroom door.  i had wicked cramps.   blood was gushing out of my vagina & i was thoroughly convinced i was having a quintuplet miscarriage.  and i was out of advil and super-plus tampons.  fuck!  normally, this would be a complete disaster…but after my little tantrum, i pulled it together & managed to leave the house without any real drama.

we arrive at our destination, & it’s.  totally.  packed.  with a wait-list at least 7 parties deep.  jesus christ…really!  it’s after 7pm on a saturday & mama needs a drank.  my general impression of the crowd-corralling wasn’t good.  the owner checked us in & acted like a college student hostess in her first week on the job.  no one really knew what was going on & it was tough to even get a time estimate out of her for which to rest upon.  a youngish boy then checked on us & said it will be 30-40 minutes, so we settled on going someplace else for a drink whilst we wait.

i thought i had been to the worst bar ever, until this place.  i won’t name names, but just know that it’s housed in the space that was formerly the chesterfield.  perhaps it was the three skeezed-out meth heads sitting at the bar, or the really inept barmaid, but the second i stepped in the door, i wanted to leave.  typically i don’t get really creeped out by places, but this one made me feel like something terrible had happened there.  i’m guessing a tall, hairy man with a prosthetic arm ripped off his plastic limb to rape a young, stringy, blonde thing with before he bludgeoned her to death with it.   in the bathroom, probably.  again, just guessing…but i’m usually pretty good at this stuff.  anyway!  moving on…

as soon as we order our drinks, i know it’s trouble.  first i asked for a wine list, as i see the other patrons have wine in front of them.   bartender looks confused.  “uhmm…..” she picks up a menu.  scans it.  turns it over.  more reading, squinting…  “oh!  it says to check the chalkboard.” hmm.  really?  wouldn’t you know that already if you’d been employed here for…i don’t know, an hour?!  i walked to the other end of the bar where the chalk board resides — nowhere near the entrance or where you would normally order  — and i asked for a glass of pinot noir, which turned out to be opened for too long.  i should have had her open another bottle, but i didn’t have the patience for that either.  i really just should have gotten a safe beer like sam did!  sigh!  so, we settle our tab & it takes foreverrrrr

oh my god!  what happens next?!  come back tomorrow for part two, my buttery little lamb chops!  until then, kisses on your sticky bits.

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