Last Round

Friday, June 26- The Hunches @ The Hemlock

Summer Prudence

The weekend is here, so avail yourself of some Kingsley Amis on Drink (a necessary repeat)-

On Coping with the Physical Hangover
If your wife or other partner is beside you, and (of course) is willing, perform the sexual act as vigorously as you can. The exercise will do you good, and- on the assumption that you enjoy sex- you will feel toned up emotionally, thus delivering a hit-and-run raid on your metaphysical hangover (M.H.) before you formally declare war on it. Warnings- 1. if you are in bed with somebody you should not be in bed with, and have in the least degree a bad conscience about this, abstain. Guilt and shame are prominent constituents of the M.H., and will certainly be sharpened by indulgence on such an occasion 2. For the same generic reason, do not take the matter into your own hands if you awake by yourself.

The ideal arrangement, very much worth the trouble and expense if you are anything of a serious drinker, is a shower fixed over the bath. Run a bath as hot as you can bear and lie in it as long as you can bear. When it becomes too much, stand up and have a hot shower, then lie down again and repeat the sequence. This is time well spent. Warning- Do not do this unless you are quite sure your heart and the rest of you will stand it. I would find it most disagreeable to be accused of precipitating your death, especially in court.

On Coping with the Metaphysical Hangover
When that ineffable compound of depression, sadness, (these two are not the same), anxiety, self-hatred, sense of failure and fear for the future begins to steal over you, start telling yourself that what you have is a hangover. You are not sickening for anything, you have not suffered a minor brain lesion, you are not all that bad at your job, your family and friends are not leagued in a conspiracy of barely maintained silence about what a shit you are, you have not come at last to see life as it really is, and there is no use crying over spilt milk.

The Boozing Man's Diet
The first, indeed the only, requirement of a diet is that it should lose you weight without reducing your alcoholic intake by the smallest degree. Well, and it should be simple: no charts, tables, menus, recipes. None of these pages of fusspottery which normally end- end, after you have wasted minutes ploughing your way through- "and of course no alcohol" in tones of fatuous apology for laying tongue to something so pikestaff-plain. Of course? No alcohol? What kind of people do they think we are?

For Your Summer Pleasure

all soon from the good people at ITR.

Hey Rein, Good On Ya

Reception at Tuna's

I enjoyed two free keg parties this weekend. The first was a birthday party for somebody I do not know. I walked right up to the Top Dog guy catering, ordered a brat, sidled to the keg and did not move until I had five new friends. Repeat, and two hours later the painful view upon entrance was a glorious haze of middle-age festive blur. At least that's what I kept telling myself when plaid-pants man kept screaming about the death of Obama and the SEC. And then we played beer pong.

Slipped out yesterday to Issues' 2nd Anniversary party and pretended to shop while I drank at high speed. From Piedmont to Piedmont Ave. flips your keg demographic, but I'm versatile. Met up with Mr. Mosher and we made plans. Please attend them. Walked off with four records I did not need but that look good in front of my television. The cover of the Black Shampoo soundtrack is particularly eye-catching, especially to children.

And that's your weekend update. Let's get lost- I'm temporarily unemployed in four days.

I Suck

Fred And Toody Cole Finish The Portland Marathon!
By Brian J Barr in News
Tuesday, Oct. 7 2008 @ 12:28PM
Here's a fact: Fred and Toody Cole (of Dead Moon/Pierced Arrows fame) live more in one week than the rest of us do in a year. Fred had threatened to me a few years ago (as he had with many others) that he was going to run the Portland Marathon someday. When he told me this, he was on his umpteenth cigarette of the day and we had been drinking Yukon Jack and Bud all afternoon on his backporch. But I had to believe the guy. This weekend, he finally did it...and so did his wife Toody and their son Weeden. These people are nuts! Fred emailed yesterday and said they had to wake up a 4 a.m., drive into Portland for the worst marathon weather ever...windy, rainy, shitty, cold. At mile 21, Fred says his legs and the backs of his heels went out on him, his son Weeden blew a hamstring, so they jogged/limped/walked slowly the rest of the way. They finished somewhere in the middle of the pack at about 6 1/2 hours. Toody finished about a mile ahead of them. Then...and this is the best part...
"By the time we got home we could hardly get up the stairs. We all got drunk and passed out for close to 24 hrs and I can still barely walk. We're heading out on the US tour at 5am this morning and play 12 gigs in a row before a day off."

Summer is here!

Yeah, you wouldn't know it by the weather, but summer is here. The facts are undeniable:

The NBA season only has two weeks more to go!

In other cities girls are wearing really short things and people are drinking outdoors at night.

I'm going to Chicago twice this month to enjoy the city's few months of decent weather and a couple of 40th birthdays.

My little sister is graduating from high school on Thursday. This implies that at some point in the next year or so, I will have an excuse to visit a sorority.

When's that beer festival in Booneville? Who wants to go to Tahoe and raft in July? Lets see some Giants games!

Whaddya say?