I've been gone. Sorry, I had to work a bajillion hours at work last week.

I was in San Diego last weekend hanging with Andy, Kara and others. No crazy parties, but good fun on the beach. I did get harassed by the cops for "being to legit for the beaches of San Diego". I had to fake it out a bit. Keep it less real. So I toned down the 'reality' and the cops left. I passed out at a party and was definetly hanging out with a bunch of old people drinking Jameson's and listening to live piano. It ruled.

Friday(two days ago) I came back to Chicago, and went to Rhino with David Ramirez. I haven't seen this guy for two years. So of course we had to close out Rhino, then Brewbakers. Shine and Tracy(in town from LA) rolled with us for the night. We sure did start at 9.30 and finish at 4am. It was a good night. Also the toast of the night, "Sacking the twins." Yes, they were very sexy.

Last night was James' bachelor party. Nothing crazy, just 6 hours of drinking up on the north side. However, I'm currently pissed at him because I lost 5 bucks to his drunken ass. Its the end of the night, he's been done for awhile. He's teetering on his barstool. Another guy and I start making over/unders for how long until he face plants. I take the over on 9 minutes. He looked pretty stable. He went face first, chair and all, after 2. It was a poor, poor performance on his part. And he has a huge knot on his forehead.

We hit "Irish Eyes" the bar on the crawl. Northe side bar and I got the performer guy to sing "South Side Irish". It felt good. Oh, and I hijacked a pizza. A delivery guy is just walking around with a pizza, I buy it. I, like prometheus, gave pizza to hungry drunks laughing at a soon-to-be sick dude getting married in a week. It felt needed.

Oh, and James bruised my entire back by repeatedly punching me and humping me. So I felt very justified when it was the pizza that made him toss his cookies. It felt good.

And now, a night I hope isn't 6 hours of boozing and maybe I'll wake up tomorrow, get some doughnuts and put one on a stick to waive at the runners as they jog past my house. It should be good times.
- posted by Pat @ 4:57 PM

 
The LA Adventure!

And, as it happens, not all adventures go well for the protagonist. Or maybe I was the antagonist this time around, so I got my dues.

Friday was hitting a totally rad record store called Amoeba. I got approx. 1000 cds for 35 cents. Good cds too, Daft Punk, Mountain Goats, Air, etc. Too many to list. Then some dinner. Wait, no, there was no dinner. Only a late lunch. Also, no breakfast. Hrm... I sense trouble. Of course, I was also there, so I outta know.

Brian Tracy, the person I was visiting in LA, and I go to the Universal Walk. Watch some Invader Zim and head over to Howl at the Moon. A dueling piano bar. Important note here: I feel very lonely most of the time. Especially for a female friend. There were 3 dollar draughts of Bass Ale. I, uh, went a little overboard. Maybe. Okay, I'm aware I was hitting on a number of girls. Most of whom shut me down. Except for a 35 year old first grade teacher. All I have to say to that is, ahh crap. I sure hope Drunken Pat enjoyed that. At this point I would like to point out that I was not slapped or thrown in jail. Although Brian did think I should have received either. Well, maybe not jail time, but yeah.

MOVING ON!

Saturday was heading to Hollywood, being surprised how small it is. Hanging out at Venice Beach and being scared by the performers. One guy's line was, essentially, "give me money so I don't mug you and go back to jail." I suppose he's being honest, but, there has got to be a better way to convey your desire for other people's money. I hear change in a tin can works.

We caught a pretty bad NuMetal band that I have forgotten the name of, ate at both Denny's and Ihop in a 26 hour period and threw an extra trip to Denny's in Saturday night. All in all, a relaxing weekend after Brian dragged me out of Howl at the Moon.

Work continues to plod on and it is getting increasingly hot out here in Tuscon. Also! I will be getting an apartment out here in short order, so now people can come and visit me. I'll even help with the plane ticket. We can go hiking! Or roll in the dirt or something. We'll just have to see when you get here.
- posted by Pat @ 3:18 PM

 
Its the big, rambling on incoherantly, San Diego post. Oh yeah, I was in San Diego this past weekend. I would have gotten this up sooner, but I was busy halucinating. I'll get to that later.

I left Tuscon with a rumble and played my gameboy on the flight as I tried to hide from the awful couple next to me. They were going on vacation. To hawaii apparently. I don't know that for a fact, but they were wearing similar hawaiin(sp) shirts. And the dude's was a polo. It made my eyes hurt.

San Diego is beautiful. Just gorgeous. And the weather is consistently 70 and sunny. A bad day to them is 69 and a small cloud off on the horizon. Those people are so spoiled.

Friday night was just a night at the bars. There was some teaching by myself and Fishman(Andy). We spread the good word of the wingman technology. Someday, I will write them down in a web readable format, and the world will know of our genius! But, I'm lazy and no one actually cares anyway.

Saturday was the Pacific Beach blockparty. It was kinda "Taste of Chicago" like except not as crowded and not brutally hot and muggy. It was, as always, 70 and sunny. Fishman, his friend Jeremy and myself had a three man one fist boxing match. I got my ass kicked. It ruled. Then the party.

I entered said party with 1 giant can of Sopporro and 1 40 of Mickey's ice. I figured, "Hey, its early, I don't want to party out." It was about 5.30 pm at this point. I finished my Sopporro and was starting on my Mickey's when the "Mayor of Beertown"(Raj) showed up and began to distribute cans of Bud Light. He and some other dude, the deputy mayor I guess, just walked around for awhile and passed out beer. I grabbed one, because, well, I had no spare left. They left, came back about 5 minutes later, saw the undrunken beer and yelled at me. I was forced to chug said beer. This was the turn that did not need to happen.

Things from this point on are somewhat chaotic and will not be delievered in order. I do not remember the sun setting, only that the sun was set. I do remember talking to some dude and attempting to convince him to move to chicago. There was a fight. One guy lost pretty badly, got saved by the crowd and would not give up. Some bystander got hurt and I attempted to administer first aid. Instead the guy tried to rush past me to fight again. I held him without really trying. He was rather foolish. Then there was the ritualistic shaking of beer cans. The ritualistic poking with keys of said shaken beer cans. And, of course, the ritualistic guzzling foamy beer as it spewed forth from said beer can. The cops showed up. Then a swat team. Then some female police officer hit on one of Fishman's female friends. The cop asked her her sign. She denied hitting on her, but no one believed it.

Some people were dancing(not me). Some people were mugged and had a bottle of sprit and a bottle of rum shoved into their mouths and told to drink or drown(me). One person went to the ocean with a beer fairy(she had a hat made out of a keystone light box and wings(I still think her head was beer box shaped)) and her 3 amazingly sexy friends(not me, you bastard Jeremy). And one sad, sad person got fucking TOSSED to the ground like a sack of potatoes by Kara, Fishman's girlfriend(me).

Then a walk to the car on the beach. Going to the burrito stand. Having a very convincing transvestite talk me into buying a nasty, nasty fish taco and then passing out at Jeremy and Kim's(another of Fishman's friend's) apartment. All in all, an amazing night.

Sunday was a bbq on the beach with me learning how to bodyboard, playing in the ocean for the first time and having a totally chill time. The ocean rules. Even if it is all salty and stuff. And, since its summer, I needed my official, "It's summer!", sunburn. And did I ever get it. I'd like to not make this a tradition, but I do it every year. So on the flight back and as I was falling asleep on Sunday I was hallucinating ridiculous shit as the sun poisining rocked my brain. It was pretty awful.

Verdict: San Diego kicks ass.

Lesson's Learned: "The Mayor of Beertown" kicks ass. Jeremy needs to share when he has FOUR DAMN WOMEN. Kicking cats, like Fishman's, is just as much fun as kicking kitties, especially when they attempt to slit your wrists open by biting them. And, as always, never trust transvestities. Because, really? You're just asking for it.
- posted by Pat @ 12:02 AM

 
Often times in my life, I'll want to listen to music. Typically, it isn't a desire for a certain band, but for a style. These are not electrofunk or industrial styles or pop styles or other Industry named styles. These are self-created or stolen styles; such as: Music to Break Things by, some Rolling Shit and other wildly unspecific phrases. Because I usually don't care what music is on, its in the background. So long as it sets the mood, everything else is kosher.

Music to Break Things by and Music to Sleep to are easy enough to find, hardcore and anything slow and without screaming, respectively. However, some Rolling Shit has always been hard to find, until today. The 'New Indie' station on the AOL/Netscape radio is perfect. Its been rolling all day.

Sorry for the amazingness of this post, I just felt the need to share with you heathens that I had finally found a reliable source for "some Rolling Shit." And special props to Colleen Norton for getting me into anything Indie in the first place. Although there is no Promise Ring or Cap'n Jazz, the Indie stylings remain.

And yes, Tuscon is in the desert. And it is super hot and the Day Star burns bright overhead. Its as if its trying to make my lilly white body not be a weapon of mass blindness when its rays reflect off of me. I say my Irish heratige is too strong. But we'll see who wins this battle, me or the day star.
- posted by Pat @ 2:03 PM

 
I'm in Arizona. I'm developing. Its good times.

Free as in Guiness.

I went to this thing last year, its actually free Guiness. And after the dinner, they start serving black and tans. Its a good deal. I hope to be able to make it, but its most likely during the week only, and I'm kinda in the wrong state for that.

So go, drink the Guiness for me. And enjoy.
- posted by Pat @ 10:48 AM

 
The east coast has nothing left to fear from me. My DOMINATION of said coast has been curtailed. I was ramping up for some serious romping and stomping up and down the coast, but it was not meant to be. I have been reassigned. I got my new location and job Friday afternoon. Thanks for the advance warning boss type(s).

Tuscon, Arizona, are you ready for the Pat Christopher experience? You better be, because I'm coming at you like a howitzer seeking out an unkicked kitty. West Coast: its on.

To my friends out East: sorry, I'm out.
To my friends out West: I will need a couch and an almost constant supply of either coffee or beer. You can choose, but the supply must be there.

First on the list of people to crash: Fishman.
- posted by Pat @ 6:05 PM