430 Paris Street, San Francisco, California, 94112. It’s five minutes to midnight and I just lumbered the Toyota into the drive way, surely blocking in whatever soul happens to haunt this house these days. Pulling out my walker, I’m ecstatic that I can somewhat walk in a normal fashion with the assistance of four wheels and some handlebars; I spy ( Read more... )

I'm drunk.

I've just spent the last three hours arguing Lady GaGa's artistic merits.

New York Livejournalers. Me?  Upper West Side of Manhattan. You?  Plans? Let's rock.

I dare anyone to rock an Iron Chef against me in cream-based pasta sauces. Bring it on. A fucking monster in Italian cooking, I am.

From scratch, baby.

[Inserting a CD into the car stereo as the mid-nineties Toyota speeds down the street]Me: "Listen, I'm sorry if I weirded you out with the whole 'I love you' thing. Yeah, you know ( Read more... )

The plan for the evening ( Read more... )

That is the last time I tear ass in the middle of the week for a while. A Lincoln, a Cessna, a horse race, and a couple of states later, I am now battling a case of the bottled flu. I got to work fifteen minutes early this morning, only to be greeted by the secretary's sarcastic remark, "You know, getting to work early won't earn you any points," ( Read more... )

I got an apartment today in Chicago. It's on Division between Humboldt and Wicker Park, surrounded by numerous bars, very close to The Empty Bottle, and next door to a sandwich shop. Could it get any better? Sure it could: wireless DSL, it's a third story loft with massive square footage, only $300 a month rent, close to bus and train stops, and my ( Read more... )

Milwaukee's Best may taste like dental tools, but God Damnit, the Best Chest was only $7.99, and I intend to finish it ( Read more... )

Dear Emo kids, Girl-Pant wearing Hipsters, and Dudes that have dyed black hair strands in their eyes,

As long as Slayer is on the face of the Earth, you will hold no credibility whatsoever.

The same thing goes for you, Slipknot and Papa Roach fans.

Introspectively yours,

Ian

So I decided to add a bit of uniformity to my crazy antics. Colin and I have formed the Drinking Troupe: Thelonious Drunk. Plans on constructing a web site will soon be realized, but I've created a Myspace profile in the interim to catalogue the stories, columns, pictures, and random sound bites (there is an awesome clip of Colin leaving a drunk ( Read more... )