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A mellowing and meandering trip through this American life. Follow the adventures of Jan, Jack, and Patrick as they take you on a whirlwind trip through Washington, DC's seedy underbelly of cut-rate poolhalls, thrift stores, and temp agencies.
Comments-[ comments.]Wednesday, May 19, 2004
oooh! I am about to eat a philly cheese steak from Pat's on Philly's South Street.
a little shout out to Adam and Paul:
"Yo Dudes, I bought you guys a vintage turquoise Chris Carter Viking's jersey in a Chicago thrift store. Unfortunately, my nephew Josh saw it and wanted it to hang up in his room (inexplicably). So, atleast you guys know that Carter ended up in a good place. Also, when were the viking's light purple/pink?"
maybe a stop at the ordinance museum off 95? or the cal ripken birthplace?
pbr
Comments-[ comments.]
a little shout out to Adam and Paul:
"Yo Dudes, I bought you guys a vintage turquoise Chris Carter Viking's jersey in a Chicago thrift store. Unfortunately, my nephew Josh saw it and wanted it to hang up in his room (inexplicably). So, atleast you guys know that Carter ended up in a good place. Also, when were the viking's light purple/pink?"
maybe a stop at the ordinance museum off 95? or the cal ripken birthplace?
pbr
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
The rolling crime wave that is the ANTPARTY EXPRESS creeped into Breckinridge yesterday and the Police were on alert. Obviously their brethren in Reno, Neveda and Salina City, Utah had alerted them to our devious plans. What the podunk officers in Breck [sic] couldn't possibly have been informed of was that we were preparing to change vehicles. That insight on their part was pure detective genius.
So it was: we left the Goat Soup and Whiskey at approximately 10:30pm on Sunday night. Amy was driving her 2004 Toyota Tacoma from the Goat (where she works) to Breck (where she lives) with Me, Jan, and Jack in tow. Jan was riding in the truck bed (for no good reason) and Jack in the back seat. As we entered Breck city limits, we were pulled over for going 58 in a 50.
The officer also informed Amy that she was weaving and asked her why she was weaving. She responded with the immortal words of "Sorry Officer, I am a weaver." Which, apparently, was the right answer because the cop wrote us up a warning and sent us on our way.
This episode, though not in itself very exciting, capped off a 36 hour strech in which we were pulled over three times in three different states and marks our fifth time being pulled over for the trip. If you include Jack's run-in with John Q. Law in Baton Rouge for sleeping in the library, that is six cop-related interactions. What do we have to show for all this hoopla? 4 warnings and one very superficial "search" of our car for drugs. We were very helpful during that event, pointing out various good places for him to search, though we did get slightly persnickedy when the officer picked up green burrs from the carpet of the car and shout "Eureaka". He was like "I've made over 1300 narcotics arrests, I just have a sixth sense about these things." And Jan was just like "Dude, that's a burr."
Anyway, he sent us on our way with a verbal warning to, uh, well, I don't know exactly what. He pulled us over because Jack made a wide lefthand turn onto the freeway entrance ramp.
Our Reno warning was karmic gold though. The speed limit dropped from 70 to 50 for a construction zone and Jan was immediately pulled over for going twenty miles per hour over the limit in a construction zone. Which would have been some combination of reckless driving ($100) and $15 per mph over the limit. Then the total would have been doubled because it is a contstruction zone. Me and Jack calculated a $400 to $600 ticket. Jan did not want to calculate. When the officer came back with the writen warning, it was pretty sweet. So, even though we might give the cops a hard time in our blogs, our overall rating for them has been A+. Even that narcotics dick in Utah.
xoxo,
pbr
Comments-[ comments.]
So it was: we left the Goat Soup and Whiskey at approximately 10:30pm on Sunday night. Amy was driving her 2004 Toyota Tacoma from the Goat (where she works) to Breck (where she lives) with Me, Jan, and Jack in tow. Jan was riding in the truck bed (for no good reason) and Jack in the back seat. As we entered Breck city limits, we were pulled over for going 58 in a 50.
The officer also informed Amy that she was weaving and asked her why she was weaving. She responded with the immortal words of "Sorry Officer, I am a weaver." Which, apparently, was the right answer because the cop wrote us up a warning and sent us on our way.
This episode, though not in itself very exciting, capped off a 36 hour strech in which we were pulled over three times in three different states and marks our fifth time being pulled over for the trip. If you include Jack's run-in with John Q. Law in Baton Rouge for sleeping in the library, that is six cop-related interactions. What do we have to show for all this hoopla? 4 warnings and one very superficial "search" of our car for drugs. We were very helpful during that event, pointing out various good places for him to search, though we did get slightly persnickedy when the officer picked up green burrs from the carpet of the car and shout "Eureaka". He was like "I've made over 1300 narcotics arrests, I just have a sixth sense about these things." And Jan was just like "Dude, that's a burr."
Anyway, he sent us on our way with a verbal warning to, uh, well, I don't know exactly what. He pulled us over because Jack made a wide lefthand turn onto the freeway entrance ramp.
Our Reno warning was karmic gold though. The speed limit dropped from 70 to 50 for a construction zone and Jan was immediately pulled over for going twenty miles per hour over the limit in a construction zone. Which would have been some combination of reckless driving ($100) and $15 per mph over the limit. Then the total would have been doubled because it is a contstruction zone. Me and Jack calculated a $400 to $600 ticket. Jan did not want to calculate. When the officer came back with the writen warning, it was pretty sweet. So, even though we might give the cops a hard time in our blogs, our overall rating for them has been A+. Even that narcotics dick in Utah.
xoxo,
pbr
Friday, May 07, 2004
A lot has transpired since San Diego. We made our way back up to LA for a Dogers game with Nora Lawrence (who knows all the tricks for sneaking into Doger Stadium). When we drove up to the park, the parking attendants were all like "The game's sold out, Dudes, sorry."
But Nora was just like "Whatever, bitch." And we turned around and parked on this random neighborhood street. We were like "Aren't you worried that we are going to get towed?" Nora just looked at us, all steely-eyed.
So we walked up to the gates and Jan asked the ticket lady if there was anyway we could get tickets for tonight. She offered to sell us $45 Club Seats. We balked. Next we went around to a side entrance and this one ticket taker dude was like "Yo, hommies, I'll let you in right here for $20. You won't have seats or anything, but you can get your bobblehead and leave."
We were like "Bobblehead? Whatever."
Next we went around to a gate where people were already starting to leave the game (with their bobbleheads). It was maybe the third inning and people were pretty much just psyched to have their Eric Gagne bobblehead. Apparently, even though it was a tuesday and the Dogers were playing the Expos, Gagne Bobblehead night was the Sixth largest attendance in Doger Stadium history: 56,450 or so. So we got to this exit with people leaving and I was just like "Man this is going to suck, getting to the game and not being able to go in..." when Nora is just like "YOINK!" and darts into one of these closing doors and into the stadium.
Me, Jan, and Jack were just left there standing (outside the stadium). So I go next. I time it perfectly and get in right before the door closes. I look out at Jan and Jack and they are just standing there holding each other and shaking, terrified. I think I see Jan crying. It takes them about 5 minutes to muster up whatever little courage they possess and then they finally make it in, jabbering-bawling-and-caterwauling.
The game was good and we learned about a new drink "Southern Comfort and Pepsi". It was a bleacher seat special. Thank you Los Angeles. Even though you didn't give us a bobble head we will always remember you.
xoxo,
pbr
But Nora was just like "Whatever, bitch." And we turned around and parked on this random neighborhood street. We were like "Aren't you worried that we are going to get towed?" Nora just looked at us, all steely-eyed.
So we walked up to the gates and Jan asked the ticket lady if there was anyway we could get tickets for tonight. She offered to sell us $45 Club Seats. We balked. Next we went around to a side entrance and this one ticket taker dude was like "Yo, hommies, I'll let you in right here for $20. You won't have seats or anything, but you can get your bobblehead and leave."
We were like "Bobblehead? Whatever."
Next we went around to a gate where people were already starting to leave the game (with their bobbleheads). It was maybe the third inning and people were pretty much just psyched to have their Eric Gagne bobblehead. Apparently, even though it was a tuesday and the Dogers were playing the Expos, Gagne Bobblehead night was the Sixth largest attendance in Doger Stadium history: 56,450 or so. So we got to this exit with people leaving and I was just like "Man this is going to suck, getting to the game and not being able to go in..." when Nora is just like "YOINK!" and darts into one of these closing doors and into the stadium.
Me, Jan, and Jack were just left there standing (outside the stadium). So I go next. I time it perfectly and get in right before the door closes. I look out at Jan and Jack and they are just standing there holding each other and shaking, terrified. I think I see Jan crying. It takes them about 5 minutes to muster up whatever little courage they possess and then they finally make it in, jabbering-bawling-and-caterwauling.
The game was good and we learned about a new drink "Southern Comfort and Pepsi". It was a bleacher seat special. Thank you Los Angeles. Even though you didn't give us a bobble head we will always remember you.
xoxo,
pbr
