On February 13, I typed I am not a soccer fan… But I think the Crewzers could change that… Tonight, I will find out… Gossip CBUS will twitter live as the Crew oppose the D.C. United…
Get out tonight, cheer, drink, and read our tweets… Until the final goal, you know you love me…
Showing posts with label Twitter Live. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Twitter Live. Show all posts
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Sugar Bar Makes Their Critics
In every law student’s initial class, an imperative and unsophisticated lesson is learned. Do not make the opponent’s case for them…
Theoretically, the Undone Lingerie Fashion Show was this evening’s subject. When I arrived, Sugar Bar’s crowd appeared energized for the exhibition. The couch klatch, dance floor, and upper mezzanine were swarmed… DJ Samurai was sizzling… And the platinum bunnies were copious…
Whether they were wearing a rainbow top with white jeans, scattered blue with dark jeans, or a gold sequin dress, the panorama and another event (which we will discuss momentarily) reminded me of Sugar Bar’s allure… They reminded me of the initial evening I ventured into the venue exactly six months ago…
This is the moment, within this column and history; that time travel occurs… From 1977-1980, Steve Rubell operated this nation’s premiere venue… Studio 54 was decadent, outlandish, and unpredictable… Celebrities craved access… Patrons craved entrance… Rubell provided surprise after spectacle for both…
Within this city, Chris Corso is Rubell. Sugar Bar is Studio 54. Yet, neither has ever attempted their potential. As I observed cash floating from the ceiling, I silently questioned why this was not an every evening occurrence. I silently questioned when this would reoccur. I silently questioned what the value was in the abhorrence I had witnessed moments earlier.
Remember I commenced this column theoretically… The Undone Lingerie Fashion Show was cancelled… The Giovanni Body Art Show occurred as scheduled… Seven naked attention whores, clad only in color, grinding and shaking as if they were platinum bunnies… Someone should remind them they are putrid excrement…
I know I said this concerning another subject, but it’s worth rephrasing… If you’re performing “body art,” you should wear a sign which reads stupid… You may as well pain pathetic trash across your chest… Because that is what you are… Pathetic trash… Your actions clearly crave attention, which makes you pathetic… Your actions indicate that you have zero respect for yourself, which makes you trash…
Whenever Corso is criticized, the opposition is viewpoint is universal… Corso’s venues promote trash… They recruit trash… They showcase trash… Tonight, Corso provided his critics with every “I told you so” they ever wanted…
Mozaic is Work in Progress
Since it’s inception, Martini Park has not equaled expectations. The venue’s concept is spectacular. The venue’s interior is splendid. The venue’s pretension and pricing are the problem.
Upon my arrival at Mozaic, the venue was merely buzzing. I am certain a half dozen excuses could be offered and I will not impart any implication… I will simply state the obvious… If a venue cannot challenge capacity on their eighty-first night, this is comprehensible… If a venue cannot challenge capacity on their initial night, this is cause for concern…
While their attendance is a conundrum, Mozaic’s illuminated bar, bottle rack, and plasma waterfall are an artistic triumph. The waterfall showcases rural and vibrant scenes and the bar and bottle rack compliment them perfectly… Akin to several venue aspects, the structure evokes Martini Park…
Potentially the venue’s signature are the four French doors, which when opened provide this city’s premiere sidewalk café experience… Instead of traditional tables and chairs, which have been placed toward the north and west of the main room, patrons can enjoy comfortable leather couches and a view that encompasses Park and Vine Streets.
Evoking Martini Park and Sugar Bar, Mozaic costumes their severs in cocktail dresses…. I don’t oppose form flattering black… However, silver sequins and white, which they allow their drink slingers to wear, would have made a unique statement… Fashionable and trendy are admirable objectives, but individualism is much more memorable…
Where Mozaic should score is it’s menu, which includes appropriately priced cocktails and cuisine… In lieu of the nine and twelve dollar martinis competing venues offer, Mozaic’s prices are six and eight… Their menu also includes an extensive bottled beer and wine selection.
Where Mozaic could collapse is their atmosphere, which tonight included several bunny chasers who wore suits their mothers selected… Lamentable shoes… Nauseating ties… Wrinkled pants… These accountants and technologists arrived seeking prestige and a platinum bunny and I’m assuming they exited with neither… Luck may be preparation meeting opportunity, but these office ostracized are ill-prepared and will never receive an opportunity…
They may ruin a venue… Mozaic could be a scrumptious scene and they could be a pariah’s paradise… If last evening’s assembly is an indication, Mozaic will merely resemble a scrapbook collage.
Upon my arrival at Mozaic, the venue was merely buzzing. I am certain a half dozen excuses could be offered and I will not impart any implication… I will simply state the obvious… If a venue cannot challenge capacity on their eighty-first night, this is comprehensible… If a venue cannot challenge capacity on their initial night, this is cause for concern…
While their attendance is a conundrum, Mozaic’s illuminated bar, bottle rack, and plasma waterfall are an artistic triumph. The waterfall showcases rural and vibrant scenes and the bar and bottle rack compliment them perfectly… Akin to several venue aspects, the structure evokes Martini Park…
Potentially the venue’s signature are the four French doors, which when opened provide this city’s premiere sidewalk café experience… Instead of traditional tables and chairs, which have been placed toward the north and west of the main room, patrons can enjoy comfortable leather couches and a view that encompasses Park and Vine Streets.
Evoking Martini Park and Sugar Bar, Mozaic costumes their severs in cocktail dresses…. I don’t oppose form flattering black… However, silver sequins and white, which they allow their drink slingers to wear, would have made a unique statement… Fashionable and trendy are admirable objectives, but individualism is much more memorable…
Where Mozaic should score is it’s menu, which includes appropriately priced cocktails and cuisine… In lieu of the nine and twelve dollar martinis competing venues offer, Mozaic’s prices are six and eight… Their menu also includes an extensive bottled beer and wine selection.
Where Mozaic could collapse is their atmosphere, which tonight included several bunny chasers who wore suits their mothers selected… Lamentable shoes… Nauseating ties… Wrinkled pants… These accountants and technologists arrived seeking prestige and a platinum bunny and I’m assuming they exited with neither… Luck may be preparation meeting opportunity, but these office ostracized are ill-prepared and will never receive an opportunity…
They may ruin a venue… Mozaic could be a scrumptious scene and they could be a pariah’s paradise… If last evening’s assembly is an indication, Mozaic will merely resemble a scrapbook collage.
Excessive Conditions, Excruciating Combinations, & Exemplary Canines
On Friday, temperatures exceeded eight-five degrees. Amidst these excessive conditions, factions sought relief via available means. Humans exploited air conditioning and sipped chilled beverages. Animals rested upon cooler surfaces and slurped water.
Predictably, conversation consumed my initial forty-five minutes at Lodge Bar… General Manager Pat West recounted his career as a mixer… Promotions Superstar Jen Bunny flaunted her Hines Ward jersey ear rings… The variety of chatter resembled the variety of pooches I would encounter…
And Lodge Bar Bouncer Scott Burn, the employee with whom I sparred previously, spit another pair of stingers… Asking whether four legged would outnumber two legged mutts… He also proposed the Lodge Bar Leash, a contrivance which would illuminate and ostracize the two legged mutts…
As I strode toward the patio (when my conversations finally concluded), I encountered Ohio Pug Rescue, a non-profit organization which rescues, rehabilitates, and relocates the short muzzled animals… I never imagined specific breed recoveries existed… I also never imagined the cooperation and cost one recovery entails… Ohio Pug Rescue are exemplary individuals…
As I strode onto the patio, I encountered Lindsey Natural, who proffered an intriguing and relevant question… In excessive conditions, are air conditioners or patios preferable? The canine response was obvious… Whether sprawled upon concrete or wood, the pooches relaxed as their owners conversed and sipped happy hour pitchers…
While Dogs on the Deck One’s attendance was superior, this evening’s variety was equally stellar… A dachshund, a pekingese, and black and golden labrador retrievers offset a crush of pugs… Several canines also appeared large enough to serve as transporters should their owners offset the excessive conditions with excessive consumption…
Two paragraphs previous, I mentioned pooches sprawled as weather relief… It is entirely possible they were cringing concerning the performance of DJ Shawn… The moment when this city must realize that music providers are not mixers and sponsored shills are not spinners was struck when this bleach blonde salesman spun “Mountain Music” and “Never Ever” consecutively…
Nevermind the combination is musically abhorrent… The songs are a decade old… “Lose Your Love” is an aged classic… “Sweet Caroline” is an aged classic… Aged classics are acceptable… Randomly spinning a song simply because one owns the selection is ridiculous… Shawn should not only forfeit this week’s salary… He should forfeit his music collection…
As I exited the pain of Shawn’s performance and the panorama of pooches, my mind considered appropriate variety… Ten breeds were enjoyable… Ten random selections were excessive… It may be a miniscule peculiarity… However, minute details dictate memorable evenings…
Predictably, conversation consumed my initial forty-five minutes at Lodge Bar… General Manager Pat West recounted his career as a mixer… Promotions Superstar Jen Bunny flaunted her Hines Ward jersey ear rings… The variety of chatter resembled the variety of pooches I would encounter…
And Lodge Bar Bouncer Scott Burn, the employee with whom I sparred previously, spit another pair of stingers… Asking whether four legged would outnumber two legged mutts… He also proposed the Lodge Bar Leash, a contrivance which would illuminate and ostracize the two legged mutts…
As I strode toward the patio (when my conversations finally concluded), I encountered Ohio Pug Rescue, a non-profit organization which rescues, rehabilitates, and relocates the short muzzled animals… I never imagined specific breed recoveries existed… I also never imagined the cooperation and cost one recovery entails… Ohio Pug Rescue are exemplary individuals…
As I strode onto the patio, I encountered Lindsey Natural, who proffered an intriguing and relevant question… In excessive conditions, are air conditioners or patios preferable? The canine response was obvious… Whether sprawled upon concrete or wood, the pooches relaxed as their owners conversed and sipped happy hour pitchers…
While Dogs on the Deck One’s attendance was superior, this evening’s variety was equally stellar… A dachshund, a pekingese, and black and golden labrador retrievers offset a crush of pugs… Several canines also appeared large enough to serve as transporters should their owners offset the excessive conditions with excessive consumption…
Two paragraphs previous, I mentioned pooches sprawled as weather relief… It is entirely possible they were cringing concerning the performance of DJ Shawn… The moment when this city must realize that music providers are not mixers and sponsored shills are not spinners was struck when this bleach blonde salesman spun “Mountain Music” and “Never Ever” consecutively…
Nevermind the combination is musically abhorrent… The songs are a decade old… “Lose Your Love” is an aged classic… “Sweet Caroline” is an aged classic… Aged classics are acceptable… Randomly spinning a song simply because one owns the selection is ridiculous… Shawn should not only forfeit this week’s salary… He should forfeit his music collection…
As I exited the pain of Shawn’s performance and the panorama of pooches, my mind considered appropriate variety… Ten breeds were enjoyable… Ten random selections were excessive… It may be a miniscule peculiarity… However, minute details dictate memorable evenings…
Friday, June 19, 2009
A Collage Worth Capturing
Assumedly, she was five years old. She wore a pink sundress. She savored an ice cream cone as she passed… She was the evening’s perfect representation…
On Thursday, I attended the Wexner Summer Warm-up. Both the event and visual were exemplary. Children frolicked and strolled safely sans their parents. Couples canoodled and relaxed upon blankets in the grass. Fashion nuances and nightmares provided incalculable column material.
The triad of flashback music, people, and vendors intermixed into one of the most unique atmospheres in this city. Between the children and blankets on the grass, the ice cream and hot dog vendors on the sidewalk, and the psychedelic soundtrack, the ambiance ran the gambit… Gidget, Jimi Hendrix, and Seth Cohen would have assimilated comfortably.
Also assimilated comfortably was Wexner Center Promotions Superstar Tim Fulton, one of their premiere characters in this city… It’s not as if I don’t encounter a cocktail of personalities each evening, but Fulton is tectonic triple shot… He is analyst and humorist… Enthusiast and influence… Mastermind and pupil…
In two hours, Fulton enters and exits a dozen conversations… He is more comfortable in the present than the previous… Obviously, his profession is public relations, which involves speaking… Thus, he should be proficient in the art form… With that said, Fulton is a conversationalist and not a talker… The difference must be appreciated…
The difference between artistic and random is miniscule and that line was encountered and erased frequently this evening… I know quirkiness is a characteristic which will win you praise within the artistic sphere… However, quirkiness is an engraved invitation into this column and said invitation is inescapable…
Whether they were wearing Arabic writing or Bart man or Ghostbusters t-shirts (if the gimmick is more than three years old, toss the shirt) or hot pink (males just shouldn’t), the choices resembled those a mother would have made for her sixth grade son a decade ago… Any of those individuals should have been nervous to read the twitter…
Since I mentioned the twitter, I have been asked why this website tweets so much…. Why are virtually every moment and reaction typed as they occur… Tonight was a perfect example of the simple answer… You never know what you could encounter next…
On Thursday, I attended the Wexner Summer Warm-up. Both the event and visual were exemplary. Children frolicked and strolled safely sans their parents. Couples canoodled and relaxed upon blankets in the grass. Fashion nuances and nightmares provided incalculable column material.
The triad of flashback music, people, and vendors intermixed into one of the most unique atmospheres in this city. Between the children and blankets on the grass, the ice cream and hot dog vendors on the sidewalk, and the psychedelic soundtrack, the ambiance ran the gambit… Gidget, Jimi Hendrix, and Seth Cohen would have assimilated comfortably.
Also assimilated comfortably was Wexner Center Promotions Superstar Tim Fulton, one of their premiere characters in this city… It’s not as if I don’t encounter a cocktail of personalities each evening, but Fulton is tectonic triple shot… He is analyst and humorist… Enthusiast and influence… Mastermind and pupil…
In two hours, Fulton enters and exits a dozen conversations… He is more comfortable in the present than the previous… Obviously, his profession is public relations, which involves speaking… Thus, he should be proficient in the art form… With that said, Fulton is a conversationalist and not a talker… The difference must be appreciated…
The difference between artistic and random is miniscule and that line was encountered and erased frequently this evening… I know quirkiness is a characteristic which will win you praise within the artistic sphere… However, quirkiness is an engraved invitation into this column and said invitation is inescapable…
Whether they were wearing Arabic writing or Bart man or Ghostbusters t-shirts (if the gimmick is more than three years old, toss the shirt) or hot pink (males just shouldn’t), the choices resembled those a mother would have made for her sixth grade son a decade ago… Any of those individuals should have been nervous to read the twitter…
Since I mentioned the twitter, I have been asked why this website tweets so much…. Why are virtually every moment and reaction typed as they occur… Tonight was a perfect example of the simple answer… You never know what you could encounter next…
Present As You Seek Infamy
Every evening, I ask myself one question… Where’s the news tonight?
On this evening, I thought that question could remain unanswered. The streets were vacant. The venues were vacant. Several churches and synagogues this weekend will have superior energy. Why was this? Park Street Festival was last weekend… Ohio State students have vanished… Opposing activities were occurring… Any reason is sensible… No reason is sufficient…
If you’ve read this website (and I know you have), Drink with a Lodge Bar employee night is an identifiable phrase. When last call echoed this evening, Lodge Bar employees were the only identifiable people… Trevor Day… Joe Information… Mike Material… The contingent was superb… However, Lodge Bar prefers this contingent’s alone presence prior to the venue opening…
While Lodge Bar’s night was regrettable, Matt Delight’s sentences were spectacular… He mocks his colleagues and this nation’s premiere comedy writers should applaud… He offers insight about the opposite sex and those who penned proverbs cringe… I know I typed he has never spent one second not amused with the thoughts in his own head… When those thoughts are spoken aloud, a column material encyclopedia is available…
Whereas Matt Delight was Lodge Bar’s lone highlight, Park Street Patio accrued their third consecutive victory. I know what you’re thinking… I said every venue was vacant and victory is utilized? This was not an evening when one venue survived an incomprehensible competition… Park Street Patio governed an evening when they were merely adequate…
Since our initial encounter, Jamie Precious has accrued four column appearances… You would assume one would run out of adjectives and then you realize the obvious… There are spectacular bunnies who are forgotten in five minutes and there are bunnies who speak for five minutes and are unforgettable… Jamie is the latter…
In a contrasting manner, Mia Charisma is another unforgettable slinger… Mia isn’t the precocious showcase… She isn’t the scandalous provocateur… She is simply an off the rack perfection… If the choice is the glitzy slinger who struts or the subdued slinger whose soul is visible within their eyes, Mia is the selection… Her soul is exquisite…
On Saturday, Lodge Bar Assistant General Manager Trevor Day raised expectations and won… Tonight, Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Avi Primetime attempted a similar speculation… And speculation reestablished it’s definition… Sugar Bar was only buzzing… No section ever challenged or equaled swarmed…
And Sugar Bar’s evening deteriorated further… A fight ensued which included four security personnel, three randoms, two police officers, and a heifer in a tutu (and no that’s not the conclusion of a joke)… Conflicting reports exist concerning the scrap itself… According to witnesses, two women commenced fighting… Their boyfriends intervened… Security and police intervened… A Sugar Bar security person was inadvertently pepper sprayed in the mele…
Mia Charisma, Matt Delight, and Jamie Precious were excellent conversations… However, the preceding paragraph illustrates why my exit is never early… If I had learned about this incident via someone else, I would have remained regretful… I abhor missing the news…
On this evening, I thought that question could remain unanswered. The streets were vacant. The venues were vacant. Several churches and synagogues this weekend will have superior energy. Why was this? Park Street Festival was last weekend… Ohio State students have vanished… Opposing activities were occurring… Any reason is sensible… No reason is sufficient…
If you’ve read this website (and I know you have), Drink with a Lodge Bar employee night is an identifiable phrase. When last call echoed this evening, Lodge Bar employees were the only identifiable people… Trevor Day… Joe Information… Mike Material… The contingent was superb… However, Lodge Bar prefers this contingent’s alone presence prior to the venue opening…
While Lodge Bar’s night was regrettable, Matt Delight’s sentences were spectacular… He mocks his colleagues and this nation’s premiere comedy writers should applaud… He offers insight about the opposite sex and those who penned proverbs cringe… I know I typed he has never spent one second not amused with the thoughts in his own head… When those thoughts are spoken aloud, a column material encyclopedia is available…
Whereas Matt Delight was Lodge Bar’s lone highlight, Park Street Patio accrued their third consecutive victory. I know what you’re thinking… I said every venue was vacant and victory is utilized? This was not an evening when one venue survived an incomprehensible competition… Park Street Patio governed an evening when they were merely adequate…
Since our initial encounter, Jamie Precious has accrued four column appearances… You would assume one would run out of adjectives and then you realize the obvious… There are spectacular bunnies who are forgotten in five minutes and there are bunnies who speak for five minutes and are unforgettable… Jamie is the latter…
In a contrasting manner, Mia Charisma is another unforgettable slinger… Mia isn’t the precocious showcase… She isn’t the scandalous provocateur… She is simply an off the rack perfection… If the choice is the glitzy slinger who struts or the subdued slinger whose soul is visible within their eyes, Mia is the selection… Her soul is exquisite…
On Saturday, Lodge Bar Assistant General Manager Trevor Day raised expectations and won… Tonight, Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Avi Primetime attempted a similar speculation… And speculation reestablished it’s definition… Sugar Bar was only buzzing… No section ever challenged or equaled swarmed…
And Sugar Bar’s evening deteriorated further… A fight ensued which included four security personnel, three randoms, two police officers, and a heifer in a tutu (and no that’s not the conclusion of a joke)… Conflicting reports exist concerning the scrap itself… According to witnesses, two women commenced fighting… Their boyfriends intervened… Security and police intervened… A Sugar Bar security person was inadvertently pepper sprayed in the mele…
Mia Charisma, Matt Delight, and Jamie Precious were excellent conversations… However, the preceding paragraph illustrates why my exit is never early… If I had learned about this incident via someone else, I would have remained regretful… I abhor missing the news…
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Characters, Storylines Provide City’s Soundtrack
Characters and storylines are omnipresent. Characters are the people and personalities which crystallize an evening’s moments. Storylines pattern and progress an evening’s entirety.
Upon my arrival for the Park Street Festival, the panorama was perfection. Parents and children strolling the scenery… Children smiling as their faces were painted… Couples and singles walking their dog… One could not have requested (and if they did, they would have been rejected) a superior visual to start the sun soaked afternoon…
As announced on twitter, I received the perfect start to my afternoon… Joe Boxer invited me onto his program… I will discuss my appearance momentarily, but I must compliment (and potentially gush about) Joe Boxer and WNCI. In three hours, the radio station’s triad and myself broached twenty separate conversations… A myriad of subjects, including this website’s ambition, composition, and origin, were discussed… These exchanges could have severed merely as icebreakers (and they did)… However, they also improved my intelligence…
Once, I labeled Joe Boxer as one of the most authentic, engaging people that one could encounter… If I continued praising his humanity for the next three pages, my assessment would remain spectacularly insufficient… Joe is not a role model you hope your children emulate… He is the role model you know you should emulate…
I promised I would return to my radio appearance, which I assumed would encompass three minutes… My appearance encompassed three hours and three segments… If you weren’t listening (and you should have been), Joe and I discussed the Gossip Awards, his hosting of them, this website, people watching, and platinum bunnies… If you were listening (I applaud you), I know I spoke with exceeding speed… You attempt twittering and have someone, as you’re typing, tell you your appearance is in thirty seconds…
Since I mentioned people watching (a phrase I never utilize), Park Street Festival’s afternoon was an amusing mosaic. From the lady who strode with a multi-colored purse and a gorilla wrapped around her arm to the Pittsburgh Steelers fans who offset their jerseys with terrible towels (no I’m not kidding), the calamitous cornucopia reaffirmed the obvious… This city needs a stylist…
The Steelers tandem simply epitomized the random and ridiculous montage of sports apparel which was present… The St. Louis Cardinals were copious… And every conference was represented… Big East, Mid American, Citywide Alliance of Kickball Champions… I enjoy sports… However, Park Street Festival isn’t the set of College Game Day… (Replace the gear with a polo)…
Between our initial and second twitter sessions, I encountered Park Street Patio Promotions Superstar Tori Lioness… As we discussed the event, one observance interwove through our conversation… Both of us were on minimal sleep and our work was half-over… When Tori suggested a shot, my conscience opposed alcohol (it’s not a stimulant)… All my mind could articulate is “I will have one with you…”
When Tori and I’s consumption and conversation concluded, Jamie Precious captured my attention… Jamie has amassed three mentions in three columns… We could have discussed the periodic table and she would have maintained my attention… Yet, as we discussed Les Wexner and his impact upon this city, Jamie reminded me of what should be this website’s watchwords… Those are column material are column material…
What is applicable concerning people is applicable concerning venues… And Park Street Patio’s weekend crowds reinforce this… While other venues awaited or exchanged patrons, Park Street Patio acquired and sustained patrons throughout the event… They were never crushed… Yet, Park Street Festival never poached their audience…
After ninety minutes of rest (not relaxation), Gandhi invited me onto her program. I promoted the website. We then shared an off-air conversation about this city; it’s media and nightlife… As I said on twitter, Gandhi has more personality than professionals who have been in the business a decade… For her, randoms are merely unmet friends…
Amidst Ghandi and I’s conversation, Gonzo appeared, munching on a pulled pork sandwich… His apparel (a shirt which read “my mustache brings all the boys to the yard”) and our conversation (whether twittering sounds as a dirty word) assimilated perfectly into the twilight’s random atmosphere… Clearly, the characters would be this evening’s storyline…
One of those characters… Lodge Bar Assistant General Manager Trevor Day, a superstar among management in this city… Superstars do not typically commit colossal mistakes… They comprehend managed expectations… They comprehend exceeded expectations impress, even when the original expectations are miniscule… Imagine my shock when he raised expectations…
Whereas most view cockiness as a defect, Trevor views cockiness as a competitive advantage… His expression and eyes assume victory; they present victory, even when victory is a virtual impossibility… Common sense implored he should minimize expectations… He should embrace the term average night… Instead, Trevor appeared to bet the house on his pair of fours…
As I returned to the Park Street Festival, I encounter Drew Hanson and Jimmy Jam, walking amongst the throng… We locate a somewhat unoccupied space (somewhat at this hour, a relative term) and the pair continue their previous conversation… Now, I have no clue concerning the context or subject matter… Yet, this is irrelevant… Jimmy Jam and the Cheshire Cat’s incidental complaints are as entertaining as any stage production as I have ever witnessed…
Moments after midnight, the Park Street Festival concluded… And the storylines commenced… Park Street Patio was crushed… The entrance line extended into the street and locating one’s friends would have required google earth… Lodge Bar was swarmed… And Callahan’s was merely scattered… Inside the booth, Gonzo was mimicking Mike Gallicchio’s prowl of the previous week… Where was his crowd? Where was his crowd?
One hour subsequent, as anyone walking toward their car, would have been better off walking home, Callahan’s crowd vastly improved… Consistently the perfectionist, Gonzo’s prowl remained ever present… He concocted sets… He connected sets… One glance toward the dance floor and one would assume he would have been elated… Yet, Gonzo’s intensity never relented…
Until one hour remained… It’s not as if there was a sudden influx of patrons… Gonzo’s strut simply reappeared… Gonzo mixed, he spun, he scratched, his hands noted the rhythm of the selection, his head noted the rhythm of the selection, he interacted with the crowd and the selection… For the final sixty minutes, his spectacular personality was palpable…
For the second consecutive evening, Park Street Patio was the unquestioned champion… I could spend several paragraphs praising their performance… However, their inside and outside were virtually impassable… And their bars were stacked five deep… Those scenarios scream for themselves…
When I returned to Lodge Bar, the venue was crushed… I could type never again will I doubt Trevor… However, that presumptive statement would be inaccurate… I will doubt him again… You never assume victory is possible with a pair of fours, until the winner sitting across from you is counting your chips… On this evening, Trevor was counting every single one…
Now, I would be remiss if I exited this column without admonishing DJ Michael. I sincerely respect him… He possesses skills… Unfortunately, there is a miniscule line between genius and madness and he flirted with it… “Barbie Girl,” “Mmmbop…” Did someone invite me to a retirement ceremony for insipid teenage anthems?
Concerning this website, I’ve been asked the question of why? What occurs in the various venues is not relevant… It is not news… Why analyze, report, and twitter every evening? In this city, characters and storylines are omnipresent. Information and stars are nonexistent. All four are coveted and inescapable. I am simply their soundtrack.
Upon my arrival for the Park Street Festival, the panorama was perfection. Parents and children strolling the scenery… Children smiling as their faces were painted… Couples and singles walking their dog… One could not have requested (and if they did, they would have been rejected) a superior visual to start the sun soaked afternoon…
As announced on twitter, I received the perfect start to my afternoon… Joe Boxer invited me onto his program… I will discuss my appearance momentarily, but I must compliment (and potentially gush about) Joe Boxer and WNCI. In three hours, the radio station’s triad and myself broached twenty separate conversations… A myriad of subjects, including this website’s ambition, composition, and origin, were discussed… These exchanges could have severed merely as icebreakers (and they did)… However, they also improved my intelligence…
Once, I labeled Joe Boxer as one of the most authentic, engaging people that one could encounter… If I continued praising his humanity for the next three pages, my assessment would remain spectacularly insufficient… Joe is not a role model you hope your children emulate… He is the role model you know you should emulate…
I promised I would return to my radio appearance, which I assumed would encompass three minutes… My appearance encompassed three hours and three segments… If you weren’t listening (and you should have been), Joe and I discussed the Gossip Awards, his hosting of them, this website, people watching, and platinum bunnies… If you were listening (I applaud you), I know I spoke with exceeding speed… You attempt twittering and have someone, as you’re typing, tell you your appearance is in thirty seconds…
Since I mentioned people watching (a phrase I never utilize), Park Street Festival’s afternoon was an amusing mosaic. From the lady who strode with a multi-colored purse and a gorilla wrapped around her arm to the Pittsburgh Steelers fans who offset their jerseys with terrible towels (no I’m not kidding), the calamitous cornucopia reaffirmed the obvious… This city needs a stylist…
The Steelers tandem simply epitomized the random and ridiculous montage of sports apparel which was present… The St. Louis Cardinals were copious… And every conference was represented… Big East, Mid American, Citywide Alliance of Kickball Champions… I enjoy sports… However, Park Street Festival isn’t the set of College Game Day… (Replace the gear with a polo)…
Between our initial and second twitter sessions, I encountered Park Street Patio Promotions Superstar Tori Lioness… As we discussed the event, one observance interwove through our conversation… Both of us were on minimal sleep and our work was half-over… When Tori suggested a shot, my conscience opposed alcohol (it’s not a stimulant)… All my mind could articulate is “I will have one with you…”
When Tori and I’s consumption and conversation concluded, Jamie Precious captured my attention… Jamie has amassed three mentions in three columns… We could have discussed the periodic table and she would have maintained my attention… Yet, as we discussed Les Wexner and his impact upon this city, Jamie reminded me of what should be this website’s watchwords… Those are column material are column material…
What is applicable concerning people is applicable concerning venues… And Park Street Patio’s weekend crowds reinforce this… While other venues awaited or exchanged patrons, Park Street Patio acquired and sustained patrons throughout the event… They were never crushed… Yet, Park Street Festival never poached their audience…
After ninety minutes of rest (not relaxation), Gandhi invited me onto her program. I promoted the website. We then shared an off-air conversation about this city; it’s media and nightlife… As I said on twitter, Gandhi has more personality than professionals who have been in the business a decade… For her, randoms are merely unmet friends…
Amidst Ghandi and I’s conversation, Gonzo appeared, munching on a pulled pork sandwich… His apparel (a shirt which read “my mustache brings all the boys to the yard”) and our conversation (whether twittering sounds as a dirty word) assimilated perfectly into the twilight’s random atmosphere… Clearly, the characters would be this evening’s storyline…
One of those characters… Lodge Bar Assistant General Manager Trevor Day, a superstar among management in this city… Superstars do not typically commit colossal mistakes… They comprehend managed expectations… They comprehend exceeded expectations impress, even when the original expectations are miniscule… Imagine my shock when he raised expectations…
Whereas most view cockiness as a defect, Trevor views cockiness as a competitive advantage… His expression and eyes assume victory; they present victory, even when victory is a virtual impossibility… Common sense implored he should minimize expectations… He should embrace the term average night… Instead, Trevor appeared to bet the house on his pair of fours…
As I returned to the Park Street Festival, I encounter Drew Hanson and Jimmy Jam, walking amongst the throng… We locate a somewhat unoccupied space (somewhat at this hour, a relative term) and the pair continue their previous conversation… Now, I have no clue concerning the context or subject matter… Yet, this is irrelevant… Jimmy Jam and the Cheshire Cat’s incidental complaints are as entertaining as any stage production as I have ever witnessed…
Moments after midnight, the Park Street Festival concluded… And the storylines commenced… Park Street Patio was crushed… The entrance line extended into the street and locating one’s friends would have required google earth… Lodge Bar was swarmed… And Callahan’s was merely scattered… Inside the booth, Gonzo was mimicking Mike Gallicchio’s prowl of the previous week… Where was his crowd? Where was his crowd?
One hour subsequent, as anyone walking toward their car, would have been better off walking home, Callahan’s crowd vastly improved… Consistently the perfectionist, Gonzo’s prowl remained ever present… He concocted sets… He connected sets… One glance toward the dance floor and one would assume he would have been elated… Yet, Gonzo’s intensity never relented…
Until one hour remained… It’s not as if there was a sudden influx of patrons… Gonzo’s strut simply reappeared… Gonzo mixed, he spun, he scratched, his hands noted the rhythm of the selection, his head noted the rhythm of the selection, he interacted with the crowd and the selection… For the final sixty minutes, his spectacular personality was palpable…
For the second consecutive evening, Park Street Patio was the unquestioned champion… I could spend several paragraphs praising their performance… However, their inside and outside were virtually impassable… And their bars were stacked five deep… Those scenarios scream for themselves…
When I returned to Lodge Bar, the venue was crushed… I could type never again will I doubt Trevor… However, that presumptive statement would be inaccurate… I will doubt him again… You never assume victory is possible with a pair of fours, until the winner sitting across from you is counting your chips… On this evening, Trevor was counting every single one…
Now, I would be remiss if I exited this column without admonishing DJ Michael. I sincerely respect him… He possesses skills… Unfortunately, there is a miniscule line between genius and madness and he flirted with it… “Barbie Girl,” “Mmmbop…” Did someone invite me to a retirement ceremony for insipid teenage anthems?
Concerning this website, I’ve been asked the question of why? What occurs in the various venues is not relevant… It is not news… Why analyze, report, and twitter every evening? In this city, characters and storylines are omnipresent. Information and stars are nonexistent. All four are coveted and inescapable. I am simply their soundtrack.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Park Street Festival Minimizes Metropolis
Activity is not a singular word. I cannot comprehend those who watch a movie and assert that as activity… Activity is texting friends about a movie as you view that movie… Activity is discussing sports as you watch sports… Activity is attending a festival which encompasses this city’s premiere market, music, and strip of entertainment real estate…
Whoever conceptualized the Park Street Festival merits applause, drinks, or recognition (whichever they choose)… Instead of commencing or concluding the street with the stage (practical, but obvious), the round creation splits the environment, creating a spectacular visual with patrons arrayed everywhere…
Amidst the crowd, vendors, and venues, I encountered several people I had met previously… Whether they were professional colleagues or simply venue acquaintances, the montage of familiar faces was elating… An extensive conversation was virtually impossible (thank you zero crowd control), still the encounters reminded me that this city’s miniscule market mentality is not always unwelcome…
As I walked amongst the carnival chaos, my eyes darted between the imposing city skyline and a couple walking their adorable dachshund… For a second moment, the minor attitude of this major city was appreciated and inviting… I was walking a street I traverse every evening, yet I may as well have been walking through my hometown…
Whoever conceptualized the Park Street Festival merits applause, drinks, or recognition (whichever they choose)… Instead of commencing or concluding the street with the stage (practical, but obvious), the round creation splits the environment, creating a spectacular visual with patrons arrayed everywhere…
Amidst the crowd, vendors, and venues, I encountered several people I had met previously… Whether they were professional colleagues or simply venue acquaintances, the montage of familiar faces was elating… An extensive conversation was virtually impossible (thank you zero crowd control), still the encounters reminded me that this city’s miniscule market mentality is not always unwelcome…
As I walked amongst the carnival chaos, my eyes darted between the imposing city skyline and a couple walking their adorable dachshund… For a second moment, the minor attitude of this major city was appreciated and inviting… I was walking a street I traverse every evening, yet I may as well have been walking through my hometown…
Friday, June 12, 2009
Personalities Salvage Pathetic, Weak T’s
Every column and every evening is a study is personality. Behavior can be evaluated and observed. Character can be equaled and scrutinized. Traits can be examined and inspected. Qualities can be compared and contrasted.
Upon my arrival for the Park Street Festival Kick Off, the weather was ominous. Every chair and table were occupied. A swarm encircled the area immediately prior to the stage… Still, everyone focused one of their eyes on their conversation or the stage and one of their eyes on the sky, which simultaneously taunted the mass with inciting clouds and inviting sunshine…
Approximately ten minutes after my arrival, I encounter Park Street Patio and Sugar Bar Co-Owner Chris Corso… And any thoughts I had concerning the weather were rapidly abandoned as a conversation that was equal measures awkward, entertaining, and intelligent commenced… (Trust me when I say cringed and smiled simultaneously several times)…
While the Park Street Festival and Social Room are discussed, the majority of our conversation references Corso’s work philosophy (he doesn’t believe the hours spent inside his venues are work… That must be nice) and the male anatomy (I’m not expanding upon that and don’t ask)… In this website’s existence, Corso and I have had fifty conversations, but until this one, I never truly appreciated the paradox of his personality… He is a brazen cross between Gordon Gekko and Kid Rock…
Amidst Corso and I’s conversation, Park Street Patio and Sugar Bar Co-Owner Mike Gallicchio arrives. Corso alone is a venerable verbal opponent… Corso and Gallicchio as a tandem are enough to make even the most gifted of gabbers sit down and sob… They are the Hollywood Blondes with business acumen… They are Money Incorporated with insightful sarcasm…
As Gallicchio and I discuss the Social Room, the venue’s appearance on another website is broached (and no, I’m not mentioning the other website on this website)… Gallicchio mentions the link was lifted from his facebook page… I ask why aren’t we friends on facebook… He states he must be selective about his friends and Corso retorts that Gallicchio is selective, which is why his facebook includes 800 friends… The three of us exchange glances and laughs… Obviously, we are friends… But friendship is not immunity from mockery…
With split skies still overhead, the Plain White T’s took the stage. Now, I’ve overestimated certain acts previously and I will confess that this city’s taste remains a partial mystery… However, I expected the Plain White T’s would excel with Park Street Patio’s intimate exterior stage… I want everyone who has ever or will ever send me a critical response to read this (as I am only typing this once)… I was wrong again….
The Plain White T’s commenced their four song set with “1, 2, 3, 4” and they concluded with “Hey There Delilah.” None of the quintet ever appeared comfortable… They never appeared enthusiastic… And the lead singer appeared twice as if he wanted to cease playing and exit the premises… I was certain that the acoustic nature of their music would blend brilliantly with the crowd… Instead, the crowd treated the Plain White T’s as if they were simply five teenagers in plain white t-shirts playing for prom money….
As I said on twitter, if Thursday’s crowd was any indication, Friday’s concert will not be sold out… Also (and I am hoping this remains untrue), if Thursday’s crowd was any indication, Park Street Festival could be a disappointment…
Since I mentioned the Park Street Festival, I enjoyed a ten-minute conversation with Park Street Patio Promotions Superstar Tori Lioness, who appeared scrumptious in a simple white top with jeans… I will say and I assume she would as well… This weekend has to be one of the highlights of the summer calendar… Yet, she will be elated when it concludes…
I cannot conclude this column without mentioning Park Street Patio’s cupcake collection, which could rival any drink slinging contingent in this city… Jamie Precious, a platinum bunny with a matching personality, is their perfect personification… She is adorable and alluring… Entertaining and exquisite… (And she isn’t the only one)…
As I walked Park Street at the conclusion of my evening, I strode with conflicting thoughts… This city ignored another significant act… Yet, I knew this column would read significantly positive… Another study in the behavior, character, qualities, and traits that comprise my evenings.
Upon my arrival for the Park Street Festival Kick Off, the weather was ominous. Every chair and table were occupied. A swarm encircled the area immediately prior to the stage… Still, everyone focused one of their eyes on their conversation or the stage and one of their eyes on the sky, which simultaneously taunted the mass with inciting clouds and inviting sunshine…
Approximately ten minutes after my arrival, I encounter Park Street Patio and Sugar Bar Co-Owner Chris Corso… And any thoughts I had concerning the weather were rapidly abandoned as a conversation that was equal measures awkward, entertaining, and intelligent commenced… (Trust me when I say cringed and smiled simultaneously several times)…
While the Park Street Festival and Social Room are discussed, the majority of our conversation references Corso’s work philosophy (he doesn’t believe the hours spent inside his venues are work… That must be nice) and the male anatomy (I’m not expanding upon that and don’t ask)… In this website’s existence, Corso and I have had fifty conversations, but until this one, I never truly appreciated the paradox of his personality… He is a brazen cross between Gordon Gekko and Kid Rock…
Amidst Corso and I’s conversation, Park Street Patio and Sugar Bar Co-Owner Mike Gallicchio arrives. Corso alone is a venerable verbal opponent… Corso and Gallicchio as a tandem are enough to make even the most gifted of gabbers sit down and sob… They are the Hollywood Blondes with business acumen… They are Money Incorporated with insightful sarcasm…
As Gallicchio and I discuss the Social Room, the venue’s appearance on another website is broached (and no, I’m not mentioning the other website on this website)… Gallicchio mentions the link was lifted from his facebook page… I ask why aren’t we friends on facebook… He states he must be selective about his friends and Corso retorts that Gallicchio is selective, which is why his facebook includes 800 friends… The three of us exchange glances and laughs… Obviously, we are friends… But friendship is not immunity from mockery…
With split skies still overhead, the Plain White T’s took the stage. Now, I’ve overestimated certain acts previously and I will confess that this city’s taste remains a partial mystery… However, I expected the Plain White T’s would excel with Park Street Patio’s intimate exterior stage… I want everyone who has ever or will ever send me a critical response to read this (as I am only typing this once)… I was wrong again….
The Plain White T’s commenced their four song set with “1, 2, 3, 4” and they concluded with “Hey There Delilah.” None of the quintet ever appeared comfortable… They never appeared enthusiastic… And the lead singer appeared twice as if he wanted to cease playing and exit the premises… I was certain that the acoustic nature of their music would blend brilliantly with the crowd… Instead, the crowd treated the Plain White T’s as if they were simply five teenagers in plain white t-shirts playing for prom money….
As I said on twitter, if Thursday’s crowd was any indication, Friday’s concert will not be sold out… Also (and I am hoping this remains untrue), if Thursday’s crowd was any indication, Park Street Festival could be a disappointment…
Since I mentioned the Park Street Festival, I enjoyed a ten-minute conversation with Park Street Patio Promotions Superstar Tori Lioness, who appeared scrumptious in a simple white top with jeans… I will say and I assume she would as well… This weekend has to be one of the highlights of the summer calendar… Yet, she will be elated when it concludes…
I cannot conclude this column without mentioning Park Street Patio’s cupcake collection, which could rival any drink slinging contingent in this city… Jamie Precious, a platinum bunny with a matching personality, is their perfect personification… She is adorable and alluring… Entertaining and exquisite… (And she isn’t the only one)…
As I walked Park Street at the conclusion of my evening, I strode with conflicting thoughts… This city ignored another significant act… Yet, I knew this column would read significantly positive… Another study in the behavior, character, qualities, and traits that comprise my evenings.
Talent, Truffles Present Material Treasure
Column material isn’t obvious. Column material doesn’t introduce itself via an engraved invitation. It must be conceptualized, examined, polished, and resolved. It’s availability must match it’s omnipresence.
Theoretically, Thursday Night Live was this evening’s subject. I would discuss the third edition of our series, but the recapitulation would resemble a comprehensive analysis of the Manny Pacquiao-Ricky Hatton contest… It would be brief and brutal…
This was not two weeks ago when Sugar Bar scored victory, despite their random recital… This evening, Sugar Bar’s platinum bunnies were spectacular… Lodge Bar’s population was nonexistent… If the Detroit Red Wings and Pittsburgh Penguins needed a vacant venue in which to discuss strategy prior to their game seven skirmish, they could have utilized Lodge Bar…
Thankfully, Maxwell captured my interest amidst the silence… It’s not as if I unaware of Maxwell… He is a former WNCI host, I had heard his show, and we know several of the same people… What turned a three-minute grip and gab (that’s a handshake and hello to those of you without imagination) into a one-hour conversation was the insight and vision he articulated…
For six months, I’ve discussed this city’s miniscule market mentality… Maxwell shares my premise… We spoke for ten minutes… twenty minutes… And his words continued illustrating my thoughts… Why aren’t more premiere events staged in this city? Why isn’t this city capitalizing on it’s talent? Why shouldn’t those with talent and vision attempt to transform this city’s mindset? The dialogue was informative and intense…
I’ve had conversations with superstars that make me appreciate their talent… I’ve had conversations with superstars where ideas are concocted… Maxwell and I’s conversation motivated me to advance several of our ideas and made me value his exponential talent… Maxwell is brilliant, but brilliant is a trait shared by several in our city… It’s Maxwell’s unlimited vision which shocked my attention…
While Lodge Bar’s virtually vacant main room allowed Maxwell and I to converse, DJ AAA squandered several impressive moments in the silence… From “Break the Ice” to “I Love College,” AAA spun selections that everyone enjoys, that everyone likely indulges inside the privacy of their vehicle, but that never score space on a set list… It is unfortunate that the venue’s décor was his principal spectator…
Now, I know what you’re thinking… Three sentences prior I utilized the phrase virtually vacant, meaning a minimal audience must have been present… Minimal in numbers… Maximum in mass… This is where I return to the unfairness of comparing Lodge Bar and Sugar Bar… Sugar Bar had miniature morsels such as Brie (a future fashion show participant) on their stage… Lodge Bar had, as one bouncer phrased it, more beautiful creatures on their walls than on their dance floor…
Since I mentioned the bouncer, who I spoke with frequently, yet whose name escapes me (I apologize), I must compliment him on his aptitude… I have thirty conversations a night in this city, most are entertaining, but rare is the conversational participant who can spar with me as I praise platinum bunnies and scorch heifers… This bouncer was my equal…
From his beautiful creatures comment to stating the obvious (Sugar scored the bunnies, Lodge scored the dust bunnies), he equaled and occasionally exceeded my saucy and searing commentary on the calamity that was the venue’s crowd… In fact, there was only one moment I can remember where he was overmatched… As we both stared toward a platinum bunny, he stated that she was a diamond among coal… I responded she was more accurately a truffle amongst the pig excrement…
Over four hours, one venue was scattered. Another venue was swarmed. No storyline was obvious. Yet, a bouncer, a mixer, and a premiere talent provided column material.
Theoretically, Thursday Night Live was this evening’s subject. I would discuss the third edition of our series, but the recapitulation would resemble a comprehensive analysis of the Manny Pacquiao-Ricky Hatton contest… It would be brief and brutal…
This was not two weeks ago when Sugar Bar scored victory, despite their random recital… This evening, Sugar Bar’s platinum bunnies were spectacular… Lodge Bar’s population was nonexistent… If the Detroit Red Wings and Pittsburgh Penguins needed a vacant venue in which to discuss strategy prior to their game seven skirmish, they could have utilized Lodge Bar…
Thankfully, Maxwell captured my interest amidst the silence… It’s not as if I unaware of Maxwell… He is a former WNCI host, I had heard his show, and we know several of the same people… What turned a three-minute grip and gab (that’s a handshake and hello to those of you without imagination) into a one-hour conversation was the insight and vision he articulated…
For six months, I’ve discussed this city’s miniscule market mentality… Maxwell shares my premise… We spoke for ten minutes… twenty minutes… And his words continued illustrating my thoughts… Why aren’t more premiere events staged in this city? Why isn’t this city capitalizing on it’s talent? Why shouldn’t those with talent and vision attempt to transform this city’s mindset? The dialogue was informative and intense…
I’ve had conversations with superstars that make me appreciate their talent… I’ve had conversations with superstars where ideas are concocted… Maxwell and I’s conversation motivated me to advance several of our ideas and made me value his exponential talent… Maxwell is brilliant, but brilliant is a trait shared by several in our city… It’s Maxwell’s unlimited vision which shocked my attention…
While Lodge Bar’s virtually vacant main room allowed Maxwell and I to converse, DJ AAA squandered several impressive moments in the silence… From “Break the Ice” to “I Love College,” AAA spun selections that everyone enjoys, that everyone likely indulges inside the privacy of their vehicle, but that never score space on a set list… It is unfortunate that the venue’s décor was his principal spectator…
Now, I know what you’re thinking… Three sentences prior I utilized the phrase virtually vacant, meaning a minimal audience must have been present… Minimal in numbers… Maximum in mass… This is where I return to the unfairness of comparing Lodge Bar and Sugar Bar… Sugar Bar had miniature morsels such as Brie (a future fashion show participant) on their stage… Lodge Bar had, as one bouncer phrased it, more beautiful creatures on their walls than on their dance floor…
Since I mentioned the bouncer, who I spoke with frequently, yet whose name escapes me (I apologize), I must compliment him on his aptitude… I have thirty conversations a night in this city, most are entertaining, but rare is the conversational participant who can spar with me as I praise platinum bunnies and scorch heifers… This bouncer was my equal…
From his beautiful creatures comment to stating the obvious (Sugar scored the bunnies, Lodge scored the dust bunnies), he equaled and occasionally exceeded my saucy and searing commentary on the calamity that was the venue’s crowd… In fact, there was only one moment I can remember where he was overmatched… As we both stared toward a platinum bunny, he stated that she was a diamond among coal… I responded she was more accurately a truffle amongst the pig excrement…
Over four hours, one venue was scattered. Another venue was swarmed. No storyline was obvious. Yet, a bouncer, a mixer, and a premiere talent provided column material.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Scrumptious Excellence & Sickening Excrement
This city’s nightlife and reality are polar opposites. Occasionally, reality intrudes upon our exquisite charade. Executives are reassigned. Slingers are removed. Servers are replaced.
Theoretically, Alexa’s Summer Escape (I’ll explain the title) was this evening’s subject. The intoxicating tart will receive the requisite number of sentences, but as frequently occurs obvious and unexpected column material presented itself… And by presented itself, I mean alcohol, embarrassment, and randomness were involved…
Since warm weather commenced, Lodge Bar’s crowd is difficult to evaluate. They separate themselves between the main room and the patio… I would label the individual cliques as scattered, then I pause and consider that if a catastrophic rainstorm struck, the combined mass would rival any evening I witnessed in cold weather…
If a catastrophic rainstorm is a possibility (and it obviously is), can I request one to obliterate every bachlorette in this city? I know that comment may offend anyone and I know that I’ve spent several sentences on this subject and I assume that you are over reading my opinion… You are not half as over reading my opinion as I am stating my opinion… However, the putrid volume of what I witnessed this evening necessitate several additional sentences…
It’s not that I wish to cuddle another controversy in every column, but the excruciating and excremental behavior seems to escalate… Just when I assume I’ve seen every repugnant and ridiculous utilization of a pink plastic penis, these eventual ex-wives embarrass themselves… They embarrass the sanctity of marriage… A necklace of penises? A name tag which reads baby mama?
I know I said this on twitter… Yet, it’s worth repeating for emphasis…. If you’re wearing a penis on your head (anywhere on your person), your nametag should read stupid… You may as well wear a shirt with the words pathetic trash emblazoned upon it… Because that is what you are… Pathetic trash… Your actions clearly crave attention, which makes you pathetic… Your actions indicate that you have zero respect for yourself, which makes you trash…
I have said repeatedly, heifers have a right to a social life… Bachlorettes have no such right… Heifers may ruin my visual, but their insolence is the result of appearance, which is only partially controllable… Bachlorettes choose their penis attire… They choose their insolence and tastelessness… Thus, I can choose to banish them… (and since I haven’t said it yet, save your e-mails)…
Since I’ve mangled bachlorettes and mentioned heifers, I must intertwine the pair for a moment… Amidst a conversation with Joe Information, I asserted that every bachlorette party was forgettable… He countered that one party, a collection of heifers with flower necklaces, was not… Immediately, I realized what I had always assumed and never admitted… My standards are acceptable… Joe’s are exceedingly low…
As the evening progressed, Lodge Bar’s energy remained impressive… Energy was never a concern… The conversation was prevalent… The dance floor was crushed… I didn’t want to depart because the venue was dull… I considered departing because the composition of those inhabiting the venue was dreadful… Fortunately, the favorites salvaged the evening…
Once again, DJ Michael (and I swear, we will alter that name by the next column) was spectacular… I could spend multiple paragraphs discussing how he cultivated this evening’s superb energy, but I will instead state the obvious… No spinner in this city possesses his mix of audacity and style…
Speaking of audacity and style, Jen Bunny frolicked in the spotlight… With the vast majority of muffins, it’s an aspect or a pair of aspects that capture your attention…. With Jen Bunny, it’s the entire experience… Whether encouraging mass consumption of a shot, dancing, or compelling you to dance, Jen is a mesmerizing encounter… She is simply someone attention craves…
While Jen Bunny was alluring, Lindsey Natural ensorcelled my attention… I know I have discussed off the rack previously and even enumerated several examples, but Lindsey Natural (hence her gloss), may be the perfect personification of the term… With a Coach purse on her arm and the most engaging eyes of any platinum bunny I have encountered, Lindsey never invites anyone’s attention… She simply owns it…
Whether it’s dancing on the stage (which wasn’t unique to her) or ordering a shot while singing “Mmmbop,” Lindsey possesses an effortless quality that ninety percent of bunnies (even though they are bunnies) still covet… She will never struggle for the spotlight… Her personality will simply provide it for her…
Another platinum bunny and consistent spotlight object is Lodge Bar Promotions Superstar Kattie Minx… Typically, my mentions are predicated upon an amusing anecdote or important insight the favorite provides… For the purpose of this column material, I don’t need paragraphs to justify Kattie’s inclusion… I don’t need sentences either…. I simply need one unambiguous ten-word statement… No one can rock a pink dress as she can…
I know I promised an Alexa story, but the truth is, I don’t have one… Not one that would rival her previous exploits…. This wasn’t an evening where she danced the cupid shuffle… This wasn’t an evening where she utilized bar equipment as a microphone… On her final evening (see, I explained the title), Alexa was simply the professional, thorough server one would expect…
One month ago, Rick Genius and I shared a conversation and while I will leave the vast majority private, one statement he made merits reprinting… “Alexa could teach servers in this town at their profession ten years about how to be a server…” Rick is correct… Precocious personality aside (although we heart it), Alexa is preeminent in her profession…
As I stood behind the stage, staring toward the Lodge bunnies making it rain napkins, I reflected upon a repetitious question I have received… Anyone who doesn’t comprehend the volume of coverage this venue receives, should meet Jen Bunny, Rick Genius, Joe Information, Kattie Minx, Lindsey Natural, and the intoxicating tart… They should stand with me behind the stage starting toward the entrancing visual… Then, they should consider their question answered…
Theoretically, Alexa’s Summer Escape (I’ll explain the title) was this evening’s subject. The intoxicating tart will receive the requisite number of sentences, but as frequently occurs obvious and unexpected column material presented itself… And by presented itself, I mean alcohol, embarrassment, and randomness were involved…
Since warm weather commenced, Lodge Bar’s crowd is difficult to evaluate. They separate themselves between the main room and the patio… I would label the individual cliques as scattered, then I pause and consider that if a catastrophic rainstorm struck, the combined mass would rival any evening I witnessed in cold weather…
If a catastrophic rainstorm is a possibility (and it obviously is), can I request one to obliterate every bachlorette in this city? I know that comment may offend anyone and I know that I’ve spent several sentences on this subject and I assume that you are over reading my opinion… You are not half as over reading my opinion as I am stating my opinion… However, the putrid volume of what I witnessed this evening necessitate several additional sentences…
It’s not that I wish to cuddle another controversy in every column, but the excruciating and excremental behavior seems to escalate… Just when I assume I’ve seen every repugnant and ridiculous utilization of a pink plastic penis, these eventual ex-wives embarrass themselves… They embarrass the sanctity of marriage… A necklace of penises? A name tag which reads baby mama?
I know I said this on twitter… Yet, it’s worth repeating for emphasis…. If you’re wearing a penis on your head (anywhere on your person), your nametag should read stupid… You may as well wear a shirt with the words pathetic trash emblazoned upon it… Because that is what you are… Pathetic trash… Your actions clearly crave attention, which makes you pathetic… Your actions indicate that you have zero respect for yourself, which makes you trash…
I have said repeatedly, heifers have a right to a social life… Bachlorettes have no such right… Heifers may ruin my visual, but their insolence is the result of appearance, which is only partially controllable… Bachlorettes choose their penis attire… They choose their insolence and tastelessness… Thus, I can choose to banish them… (and since I haven’t said it yet, save your e-mails)…
Since I’ve mangled bachlorettes and mentioned heifers, I must intertwine the pair for a moment… Amidst a conversation with Joe Information, I asserted that every bachlorette party was forgettable… He countered that one party, a collection of heifers with flower necklaces, was not… Immediately, I realized what I had always assumed and never admitted… My standards are acceptable… Joe’s are exceedingly low…
As the evening progressed, Lodge Bar’s energy remained impressive… Energy was never a concern… The conversation was prevalent… The dance floor was crushed… I didn’t want to depart because the venue was dull… I considered departing because the composition of those inhabiting the venue was dreadful… Fortunately, the favorites salvaged the evening…
Once again, DJ Michael (and I swear, we will alter that name by the next column) was spectacular… I could spend multiple paragraphs discussing how he cultivated this evening’s superb energy, but I will instead state the obvious… No spinner in this city possesses his mix of audacity and style…
Speaking of audacity and style, Jen Bunny frolicked in the spotlight… With the vast majority of muffins, it’s an aspect or a pair of aspects that capture your attention…. With Jen Bunny, it’s the entire experience… Whether encouraging mass consumption of a shot, dancing, or compelling you to dance, Jen is a mesmerizing encounter… She is simply someone attention craves…
While Jen Bunny was alluring, Lindsey Natural ensorcelled my attention… I know I have discussed off the rack previously and even enumerated several examples, but Lindsey Natural (hence her gloss), may be the perfect personification of the term… With a Coach purse on her arm and the most engaging eyes of any platinum bunny I have encountered, Lindsey never invites anyone’s attention… She simply owns it…
Whether it’s dancing on the stage (which wasn’t unique to her) or ordering a shot while singing “Mmmbop,” Lindsey possesses an effortless quality that ninety percent of bunnies (even though they are bunnies) still covet… She will never struggle for the spotlight… Her personality will simply provide it for her…
Another platinum bunny and consistent spotlight object is Lodge Bar Promotions Superstar Kattie Minx… Typically, my mentions are predicated upon an amusing anecdote or important insight the favorite provides… For the purpose of this column material, I don’t need paragraphs to justify Kattie’s inclusion… I don’t need sentences either…. I simply need one unambiguous ten-word statement… No one can rock a pink dress as she can…
I know I promised an Alexa story, but the truth is, I don’t have one… Not one that would rival her previous exploits…. This wasn’t an evening where she danced the cupid shuffle… This wasn’t an evening where she utilized bar equipment as a microphone… On her final evening (see, I explained the title), Alexa was simply the professional, thorough server one would expect…
One month ago, Rick Genius and I shared a conversation and while I will leave the vast majority private, one statement he made merits reprinting… “Alexa could teach servers in this town at their profession ten years about how to be a server…” Rick is correct… Precocious personality aside (although we heart it), Alexa is preeminent in her profession…
As I stood behind the stage, staring toward the Lodge bunnies making it rain napkins, I reflected upon a repetitious question I have received… Anyone who doesn’t comprehend the volume of coverage this venue receives, should meet Jen Bunny, Rick Genius, Joe Information, Kattie Minx, Lindsey Natural, and the intoxicating tart… They should stand with me behind the stage starting toward the entrancing visual… Then, they should consider their question answered…
Friday, June 5, 2009
Twitter Live Only: Volume Four
Love Always Live? Love our columns? Don’t follow our twitter? You should and here’s your motivation… This is a specific evening. Twitter will be your one and only resource. No column will be written….
One Night in Sugar
Expectations are useful and unwanted. Expectations are adaptable, flexible, modifiable, and variable. They make one smarter. They make one stronger. They make defeats resemble victories. They make victories more substantial. How are expectations unwanted? Eventually, one’s moment occurs and expectations must be met…
For seven days, innuendo, rumor, and speculation swirled. Would Paris Hilton actually appear in Sugar Bar? I had complete confidence she would. Why was I so confident? Chris Corso, Mike Gallicchio, and Brian Swanson are not morons. They are not stupid. If Hilton’s appearance were merely a publicity stunt, forget figurative egg… Corso would be scraping omelet off of his face indefinitely…
With one hour remaining until Sugar Bar’s open, activity and energy were omnipresent. Whenever I am asked my favorite aspect of this website, I never hesitate… The hours prior to open and subsequent to close are my favorite… The bunnies and bunny chasers never witness these hours…. They never witness (unless they have worked in a venue) the hours of prepping or concluding a venue requires…
As drink slingers and servers placed bottles onto tables, security mentally prepared, and sound was checked, Gallicchio and Swanson paced with anticipation. Their demeanor and dialogue was an intricate mixture of accomplishment, cockiness, and nervous energy… Would Hilton produce the crowd? Would the crowd arrive earlier? Would the evening equal previous iconic escapades?
I know I’ve mentioned Swanson previously, but inevitably, he is an annotation when I discuss Corso and Gallicchio. Why is this? Corso and Gallicchio’s persona scream millionaire moguls… Swanson’s persona suggests your high school classmate, who always strode with assurance because he knew the proposition was not if, but when he would succeed. Corso and Gallicchio made nightlife in this city, but Swanson is equally relevant… He is the street credibility of the trio…
Approximately one hour into the evening, one of my previous questions was answered… The crowd maintained this city’s reputation for tardiness… On the sidewalk, Gallicchio prowled as if he were a Royal Bengal Tiger… His eyes were intense… His face was expressionless… By eleven p.m. on the night of Donnie Wahlberg’s appearance, Sugar Bar was crushed… By eleven p.m. on this night, one could dribbled a basketball comfortably through the venue…
Thankfully, Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Whitney Allure rescued the opening hours… You would assume I would have one evening where I encounter the precocious pop tart and cannot construct a paragraph… I’ve known her less than two weeks… That evening was not this evening, as via her personality and scrumptious black and sequined dress, Whitney once again ensorcelled my attention…
Ensnaring my attention for the polar opposite reason was the casting session for Freaks & Beef that Sugar Bar was hosting… I know I’ve typed several scorching sentences about heifers and I promise I will type some more… But, I must cuddle another controversy and discuss the transvestite collection which was present this evening… I want to say this before you even type word one, let alone sentence one, of your e-mails… I have no objection to an alterative lifestyle…
However, transvestite is not an alternative lifestyle… Men wearing dresses (as several did this evening) or women wearing men’s clothing is not appropriate… Ken transforming himself into Barbie doesn’t make Ken a special subset of people worthy of equal rights… It makes him weird… Every moment the abhorrent green and gold dress wearing perversion crept near me this evening was a moment when I considered leaping from Sugar Bar’s balcony onto the dance floor…
I promised I would return to my favorite piñata and the heifers were prevalent amidst the platinum bunnies tonight… I realize every crowd cannot be composed solely of muffins and some evenings, an even equation is a victory… But, Sugar Bar’s crowds have crossed the sixty-forty parallel and are flirting with seventy-thirty… Is Sugar Bar the official venue for those who haven’t heard the words calorie count or can we correct this?
At approximately 12:30, I encountered Park Street Patio Promotions Superstar Tori Lioness, who informed me that Hilton would not be arriving until one a.m. Thirty seconds and less than fifteen steps after those words were spoken, I was walking the edge of the venue’s dance floor when Hilton strutted past me…
Dressed in royal blue with a matching headband and showcasing enough diamonds to purchase several sections of this city (as well as city center for the purpose of turning it into her dog’s new home), Hilton was escorted into the balcony by a phalanx of security that would have made any elected official in any state or city jealous… Six security personnel and a trio of police…
As Hilton ascended into the balcony, an anticipated and anxious throng followed (and was of course refused entrance into the balcony by security)… Moments subsequent, I encountered the throng personally when Avi Primetime, Shawn Money, and I sought our spots above the dance floor… Avi was in front of me with a hand on my shoulder… Shawn was behind me with a hand in my back… We squeezed our way through the clamoring hoard and after one moment of walking stairs arrived in Paris’ perch…
And allow me to state that the seconds I was squeezed through the clamoring hoard were completely worth it… Above the dance floor was an unequaled compilation of empire and platinum bunny perfection… Corso, Gallicchio, Swanson, Randy Haffey, Tori, Shawn, Avi, and Paris Hilton… I know I’ve compared this city’s nightlife with the circus, but that comparison was marginal until this evening… Above the dance floor, I was now part of the collection in the center ring…
Within ten minutes of my entrance into the balcony, Hilton assumed the microphone and spoke with her typical tandem of instigative playfulness… She then swallowed a shot, took pictures of the crowd on the floor, danced with her boyfriend (was anyone even noticing he was there), danced with herself, and sat atop the rail… With her back to the potential peril, Hilton appeared placid and provocative, openly flirting with those who could not garner entrance into her paradise…
If asked (and I don’t know this personally, but everything I’ve read suggests it), Hilton will tell you that she craves the camera and that she makes the cameras crave her… Both were true this evening… Her antics entranced and invited digital flashes and those digital flashes outnumbered the amount of people staring toward the balcony…
Amidst the crush of digital flashes, Corso approached and requested vindication… The conversation I will keep private, but the subtext was that Hilton had appeared, even though this city had doubted his ability to produce this result… I will retype what I told him and also twittered… Chris, I make it a point never to doubt the king…
As her night concluded, Hilton appeared dissimilar to the decadent debutante, who had entered the balcony only ninety minutes earlier… Seated upon a couch, her boyfriend’s arm around her, Hilton was withdrawn… She smoked a cigarette… She pressed her hands to her face… She appeared at multiple points to cry…
At approximately two a.m., Hilton surrounded herself with security and walked the stairs toward the exit… As she passed the balcony bar, the upstairs drink slinger snapped a pair of pictures and Hilton disappeared into the stairwell… Her hyped and hyperbole visit to this city concluded with only pictures as proof she was ever present…
In the exhilaration of their triumph, Corso, Gallicchio, and Swanson celebrated and conversed with clutches, as their venue was cleaned… Despite incomprehensible expectations, the trio once again, shut up and put their money where their mouth was… Today, the expectations will alter, as the trio shakes this conquest from their memories…
For seven days, innuendo, rumor, and speculation swirled. Would Paris Hilton actually appear in Sugar Bar? I had complete confidence she would. Why was I so confident? Chris Corso, Mike Gallicchio, and Brian Swanson are not morons. They are not stupid. If Hilton’s appearance were merely a publicity stunt, forget figurative egg… Corso would be scraping omelet off of his face indefinitely…
With one hour remaining until Sugar Bar’s open, activity and energy were omnipresent. Whenever I am asked my favorite aspect of this website, I never hesitate… The hours prior to open and subsequent to close are my favorite… The bunnies and bunny chasers never witness these hours…. They never witness (unless they have worked in a venue) the hours of prepping or concluding a venue requires…
As drink slingers and servers placed bottles onto tables, security mentally prepared, and sound was checked, Gallicchio and Swanson paced with anticipation. Their demeanor and dialogue was an intricate mixture of accomplishment, cockiness, and nervous energy… Would Hilton produce the crowd? Would the crowd arrive earlier? Would the evening equal previous iconic escapades?
I know I’ve mentioned Swanson previously, but inevitably, he is an annotation when I discuss Corso and Gallicchio. Why is this? Corso and Gallicchio’s persona scream millionaire moguls… Swanson’s persona suggests your high school classmate, who always strode with assurance because he knew the proposition was not if, but when he would succeed. Corso and Gallicchio made nightlife in this city, but Swanson is equally relevant… He is the street credibility of the trio…
Approximately one hour into the evening, one of my previous questions was answered… The crowd maintained this city’s reputation for tardiness… On the sidewalk, Gallicchio prowled as if he were a Royal Bengal Tiger… His eyes were intense… His face was expressionless… By eleven p.m. on the night of Donnie Wahlberg’s appearance, Sugar Bar was crushed… By eleven p.m. on this night, one could dribbled a basketball comfortably through the venue…
Thankfully, Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Whitney Allure rescued the opening hours… You would assume I would have one evening where I encounter the precocious pop tart and cannot construct a paragraph… I’ve known her less than two weeks… That evening was not this evening, as via her personality and scrumptious black and sequined dress, Whitney once again ensorcelled my attention…
Ensnaring my attention for the polar opposite reason was the casting session for Freaks & Beef that Sugar Bar was hosting… I know I’ve typed several scorching sentences about heifers and I promise I will type some more… But, I must cuddle another controversy and discuss the transvestite collection which was present this evening… I want to say this before you even type word one, let alone sentence one, of your e-mails… I have no objection to an alterative lifestyle…
However, transvestite is not an alternative lifestyle… Men wearing dresses (as several did this evening) or women wearing men’s clothing is not appropriate… Ken transforming himself into Barbie doesn’t make Ken a special subset of people worthy of equal rights… It makes him weird… Every moment the abhorrent green and gold dress wearing perversion crept near me this evening was a moment when I considered leaping from Sugar Bar’s balcony onto the dance floor…
I promised I would return to my favorite piñata and the heifers were prevalent amidst the platinum bunnies tonight… I realize every crowd cannot be composed solely of muffins and some evenings, an even equation is a victory… But, Sugar Bar’s crowds have crossed the sixty-forty parallel and are flirting with seventy-thirty… Is Sugar Bar the official venue for those who haven’t heard the words calorie count or can we correct this?
At approximately 12:30, I encountered Park Street Patio Promotions Superstar Tori Lioness, who informed me that Hilton would not be arriving until one a.m. Thirty seconds and less than fifteen steps after those words were spoken, I was walking the edge of the venue’s dance floor when Hilton strutted past me…
Dressed in royal blue with a matching headband and showcasing enough diamonds to purchase several sections of this city (as well as city center for the purpose of turning it into her dog’s new home), Hilton was escorted into the balcony by a phalanx of security that would have made any elected official in any state or city jealous… Six security personnel and a trio of police…
As Hilton ascended into the balcony, an anticipated and anxious throng followed (and was of course refused entrance into the balcony by security)… Moments subsequent, I encountered the throng personally when Avi Primetime, Shawn Money, and I sought our spots above the dance floor… Avi was in front of me with a hand on my shoulder… Shawn was behind me with a hand in my back… We squeezed our way through the clamoring hoard and after one moment of walking stairs arrived in Paris’ perch…
And allow me to state that the seconds I was squeezed through the clamoring hoard were completely worth it… Above the dance floor was an unequaled compilation of empire and platinum bunny perfection… Corso, Gallicchio, Swanson, Randy Haffey, Tori, Shawn, Avi, and Paris Hilton… I know I’ve compared this city’s nightlife with the circus, but that comparison was marginal until this evening… Above the dance floor, I was now part of the collection in the center ring…
Within ten minutes of my entrance into the balcony, Hilton assumed the microphone and spoke with her typical tandem of instigative playfulness… She then swallowed a shot, took pictures of the crowd on the floor, danced with her boyfriend (was anyone even noticing he was there), danced with herself, and sat atop the rail… With her back to the potential peril, Hilton appeared placid and provocative, openly flirting with those who could not garner entrance into her paradise…
If asked (and I don’t know this personally, but everything I’ve read suggests it), Hilton will tell you that she craves the camera and that she makes the cameras crave her… Both were true this evening… Her antics entranced and invited digital flashes and those digital flashes outnumbered the amount of people staring toward the balcony…
Amidst the crush of digital flashes, Corso approached and requested vindication… The conversation I will keep private, but the subtext was that Hilton had appeared, even though this city had doubted his ability to produce this result… I will retype what I told him and also twittered… Chris, I make it a point never to doubt the king…
As her night concluded, Hilton appeared dissimilar to the decadent debutante, who had entered the balcony only ninety minutes earlier… Seated upon a couch, her boyfriend’s arm around her, Hilton was withdrawn… She smoked a cigarette… She pressed her hands to her face… She appeared at multiple points to cry…
At approximately two a.m., Hilton surrounded herself with security and walked the stairs toward the exit… As she passed the balcony bar, the upstairs drink slinger snapped a pair of pictures and Hilton disappeared into the stairwell… Her hyped and hyperbole visit to this city concluded with only pictures as proof she was ever present…
In the exhilaration of their triumph, Corso, Gallicchio, and Swanson celebrated and conversed with clutches, as their venue was cleaned… Despite incomprehensible expectations, the trio once again, shut up and put their money where their mouth was… Today, the expectations will alter, as the trio shakes this conquest from their memories…
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Sugar Bar All Access
On Thursday, Paris Hilton and Doug Reinhart will occur live via twitter… Join Gossip CBUS before you arrive, as you enjoy, and after you leave for an unprecedented view of this outstanding event.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Crawl For Cancer Decadence Defines Generation
Generation One A.M. does not attend four figure fundraisers. Generation One A.M. does not host charitable tournaments or cocktail receptions. Generation One A.M. philanthropy is casual, expressive, and pleasurable.
Crawl for Cancer is eight years old. Generation One A.M. is twenty-eight evenings old. Yet, the former perfectly epitomizes the latter’s philanthropic philosophy. Forced conversation, formal attire, and fusty appetizers require invitations and protocol. Camaraderie colors and charitable intoxication translate via facebook, instant message, and text.
Now, I’ve twittered every second of celebrity appearances and sports spectacles and I will twitter every second of the Gossip Awards, Park Street Festival, and Red, White, and Boom… Without hesitation, no visual has equaled and no visual will equal Crawl for Cancer. The intermixed visual of squad personality and venue presence was phenomenal.
For several squads, merely matching colors was insufficient. Their coordination and individualism required extra. A pair of squads prepped for the Cleveland Cavaliers contest with matching headbands, one squad’s headbands reading “I Heart LBJ.” A pair of squads utilized Mardi Gras, one wearing beads and the other wearing masks. One squad was island themed. One squad wore shark necklaces. One squad lettered their jerseys, complete with a captain’s insignia. And one squad utilized “Super Troopers” as an inspiration with every member sporting a mustache.
The venues mirrored the participants. From coordinated servers (Garage Bar in black, Lodge Bar and Park Street Patio in red) to pink Coors Light banners which read “Welcome Crawlers,” the silent structures immersed themselves within the chaotic atmosphere. Their management and slingers serving simultaneously as enablers of the decadence and witnesses to it…
And every scene and squad witnessed was spectacular… Park Street Patio offered scrumptious slingers, an outdoor grill, and spray fans… Lodge Bar split their patio between a music menagerie and their rock stars on the back bar… Callahan’s second level was as swarmed as any summer evening… And every venue included cheers and screams, physical encouragement (also known as high fives) as members finished their pitchers… Vocal encouragement as they contemplated whether they could finish them…
Inevitably, several who finished embarrassed themselves and this superb event… One random puked, passed out, and was removed via stretcher… Another random was shoved onto the ground by his friends, which cracked his head open… You would assume, in an event such as this, responsibility would be inherent… Since it’s not, I will state the obvious… If you cannot converse, remain upright, or recognize your surroundings, you should exit the premises…
While the irresponsible were ridiculous (alright, they were also column material), they could not obscure the success. As the patios and sidewalks, which were previously massed with squads, silenced in the pre-evening air, my mind revisited what I had witnessed… “Debauchery for a good cause” was the phrase of earlier hours… Yet, this phrase was inadequate… Crawl for Cancer was the definition of a generation…
Crawl for Cancer is eight years old. Generation One A.M. is twenty-eight evenings old. Yet, the former perfectly epitomizes the latter’s philanthropic philosophy. Forced conversation, formal attire, and fusty appetizers require invitations and protocol. Camaraderie colors and charitable intoxication translate via facebook, instant message, and text.
Now, I’ve twittered every second of celebrity appearances and sports spectacles and I will twitter every second of the Gossip Awards, Park Street Festival, and Red, White, and Boom… Without hesitation, no visual has equaled and no visual will equal Crawl for Cancer. The intermixed visual of squad personality and venue presence was phenomenal.
For several squads, merely matching colors was insufficient. Their coordination and individualism required extra. A pair of squads prepped for the Cleveland Cavaliers contest with matching headbands, one squad’s headbands reading “I Heart LBJ.” A pair of squads utilized Mardi Gras, one wearing beads and the other wearing masks. One squad was island themed. One squad wore shark necklaces. One squad lettered their jerseys, complete with a captain’s insignia. And one squad utilized “Super Troopers” as an inspiration with every member sporting a mustache.
The venues mirrored the participants. From coordinated servers (Garage Bar in black, Lodge Bar and Park Street Patio in red) to pink Coors Light banners which read “Welcome Crawlers,” the silent structures immersed themselves within the chaotic atmosphere. Their management and slingers serving simultaneously as enablers of the decadence and witnesses to it…
And every scene and squad witnessed was spectacular… Park Street Patio offered scrumptious slingers, an outdoor grill, and spray fans… Lodge Bar split their patio between a music menagerie and their rock stars on the back bar… Callahan’s second level was as swarmed as any summer evening… And every venue included cheers and screams, physical encouragement (also known as high fives) as members finished their pitchers… Vocal encouragement as they contemplated whether they could finish them…
Inevitably, several who finished embarrassed themselves and this superb event… One random puked, passed out, and was removed via stretcher… Another random was shoved onto the ground by his friends, which cracked his head open… You would assume, in an event such as this, responsibility would be inherent… Since it’s not, I will state the obvious… If you cannot converse, remain upright, or recognize your surroundings, you should exit the premises…
While the irresponsible were ridiculous (alright, they were also column material), they could not obscure the success. As the patios and sidewalks, which were previously massed with squads, silenced in the pre-evening air, my mind revisited what I had witnessed… “Debauchery for a good cause” was the phrase of earlier hours… Yet, this phrase was inadequate… Crawl for Cancer was the definition of a generation…
Friday, May 29, 2009
Crawl For Cancer Live
3,500 participants. 1,400 pitchers. Ten venues. Seven hours. Two exemplary charities. One and only resource for this philanthropic spectacle.Join Gossip CBUS before you arrive, as you enjoy, and after you leave for an unprecedented view of this outstanding event. From 12:30 p.m. until 2:30 a.m., our twitter will be live with the events, people, and sites, which will make the memories…
When and where will we be? You know you love me…
Twitter Live Only: Volume Three
Love Always Live? Love our columns? Don’t follow our twitter? You should and here’s your motivation… This is a specific evening. Twitter will be your one and only resource. No column will be written….
Reasons to Relish & Resign
People don’t appreciate the human aspect of this website. The bunny chasers and bunnies, their random actions and fashion, are column material, but they are vastly anonymous. The venues are column material, but they are vastly inanimate. It’s the natural slingers, the camaraderie and friendship, the moments you read and the stories you never will, that make this website.
Tonight, Thursday Night Live experienced it’s second edition. I promise we will discuss the occurrences and results… However, this was an evening when winners were nonexistent. This was an evening when the squad atop the scoreboard didn’t defeat their opponents; they merely outscored them.
While the clutches were scattered and unmemorable, DJ Legend and DJ Samurai were exquisite. Last week, DJ Samurai was patterned and predictable. This evening, DJ Legend’s creativity was equaled… DJ Legend mixed “Love Story” dance remix… DJ Samurai responded with an “Other Side” dance remix. DJ Legend spun “How Do You Sleep” and “Summer Girls.” DJ Samurai responded with “Poker Face” over the “Rocky Theme.”
The clash was an auditory delight. If only the crowd could have merited this skirmish… Pre-game, Lodge Bar appeared to enjoy a minimal advantage. In-game, Sugar Bar scored the initial round, although their swarm induced wincing (and only some of it was mine)… Particularly putrid was their stage, which was inhabited by an amount of weight not seen since the NFL Draft’s top ten selections…
While the heifers were horrific, Emily Rose Perfection’s presence made their repulsiveness invisible. I know I typed that Emily Rose is my favorite Lucky Charm… She may be (although she has a crush of competition) my favorite platinum bunny, venue employee or non-employee, in this city… It’s not simply her fashion (green and white top, form flattering white shorts)… It’s not simply her eighteen carat personality… It’s not simply her thirty-six carat appearance… It’s the elegant, precocious, and scandalous combination of the trio…
From the moment she arrived to the moment she messed up my hair, Emily’s glamour and magnetism were omnipresent… I typed this once with another superstar, but at this moment, the verbiage is transferable… You think ultimately, I would run out of adjectives for her, but every moment, Emily Rose’s personality amazes me…
In the second round, the crowd continued to disappoint me… While Sugar Bar scored the sequence on numbers, Lodge Bar possessed almost every platinum bunny (except Emily Rose)… The venues were polar opposites with similar attributes… Lodge Bar with every morsel and zero mass… Sugar Bar with an impressive mass and zero morsels…
Since I mentioned morsels, I must spend several sentences adoring Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Whitney Allure, who has accomplished in six evenings, what some bunnies amass six weeks attempting… She has captivated and ensorcelled my attention…
It’s not merely her appearance, which is understatedly scrumptious… It is her intoxicating personality, which compels one to flirt with her, respect her, snuggle with her, and speak with her… You spend five minutes with Whitney; you want to spend twenty minutes… You spend twenty minutes with her; you want to spend twenty hours…
With this evening’s masses, I wanted to spend about thirty seconds less than thirty seconds… Sugar Bar completed their domination and scored a shutout… However, they should not salute or savor this triumph… If this were last week or Lodge Bar could have scraped together (and by scraped together, I mean admit anyone they could find) a crowd, Sugar Bar’s random recital might not have sufficed…
As the evening concluded, my twitter updates abruptly concluded, when I heard the most incomprehensible news… Crown Princess Kadi and Lodge Bar have separated… Crown Princess Kadi was this website’s initial superstar… She was the most referenced superstar and the first person I dealt with on an everyday basis… Her exodus is not merely disheartening…. Her exodus is devastating…
As I walked Vine Street at the conclusion of my evening, I strode with two thoughts… The first was obvious; this will likely be Crown Princess Kadi’s final mention in my column… The second was much more complex…
In the eyes and minds of venue executives, the natural slingers are akin to cattle… They are acquired, raised, and slaughtered without compassion or concern… In my eyes, they are the entire attraction… They are not a reason this website succeeds… They are the reason…
Tonight, Thursday Night Live experienced it’s second edition. I promise we will discuss the occurrences and results… However, this was an evening when winners were nonexistent. This was an evening when the squad atop the scoreboard didn’t defeat their opponents; they merely outscored them.
While the clutches were scattered and unmemorable, DJ Legend and DJ Samurai were exquisite. Last week, DJ Samurai was patterned and predictable. This evening, DJ Legend’s creativity was equaled… DJ Legend mixed “Love Story” dance remix… DJ Samurai responded with an “Other Side” dance remix. DJ Legend spun “How Do You Sleep” and “Summer Girls.” DJ Samurai responded with “Poker Face” over the “Rocky Theme.”
The clash was an auditory delight. If only the crowd could have merited this skirmish… Pre-game, Lodge Bar appeared to enjoy a minimal advantage. In-game, Sugar Bar scored the initial round, although their swarm induced wincing (and only some of it was mine)… Particularly putrid was their stage, which was inhabited by an amount of weight not seen since the NFL Draft’s top ten selections…
While the heifers were horrific, Emily Rose Perfection’s presence made their repulsiveness invisible. I know I typed that Emily Rose is my favorite Lucky Charm… She may be (although she has a crush of competition) my favorite platinum bunny, venue employee or non-employee, in this city… It’s not simply her fashion (green and white top, form flattering white shorts)… It’s not simply her eighteen carat personality… It’s not simply her thirty-six carat appearance… It’s the elegant, precocious, and scandalous combination of the trio…
From the moment she arrived to the moment she messed up my hair, Emily’s glamour and magnetism were omnipresent… I typed this once with another superstar, but at this moment, the verbiage is transferable… You think ultimately, I would run out of adjectives for her, but every moment, Emily Rose’s personality amazes me…
In the second round, the crowd continued to disappoint me… While Sugar Bar scored the sequence on numbers, Lodge Bar possessed almost every platinum bunny (except Emily Rose)… The venues were polar opposites with similar attributes… Lodge Bar with every morsel and zero mass… Sugar Bar with an impressive mass and zero morsels…
Since I mentioned morsels, I must spend several sentences adoring Sugar Bar Promotions Superstar Whitney Allure, who has accomplished in six evenings, what some bunnies amass six weeks attempting… She has captivated and ensorcelled my attention…
It’s not merely her appearance, which is understatedly scrumptious… It is her intoxicating personality, which compels one to flirt with her, respect her, snuggle with her, and speak with her… You spend five minutes with Whitney; you want to spend twenty minutes… You spend twenty minutes with her; you want to spend twenty hours…
With this evening’s masses, I wanted to spend about thirty seconds less than thirty seconds… Sugar Bar completed their domination and scored a shutout… However, they should not salute or savor this triumph… If this were last week or Lodge Bar could have scraped together (and by scraped together, I mean admit anyone they could find) a crowd, Sugar Bar’s random recital might not have sufficed…
As the evening concluded, my twitter updates abruptly concluded, when I heard the most incomprehensible news… Crown Princess Kadi and Lodge Bar have separated… Crown Princess Kadi was this website’s initial superstar… She was the most referenced superstar and the first person I dealt with on an everyday basis… Her exodus is not merely disheartening…. Her exodus is devastating…
As I walked Vine Street at the conclusion of my evening, I strode with two thoughts… The first was obvious; this will likely be Crown Princess Kadi’s final mention in my column… The second was much more complex…
In the eyes and minds of venue executives, the natural slingers are akin to cattle… They are acquired, raised, and slaughtered without compassion or concern… In my eyes, they are the entire attraction… They are not a reason this website succeeds… They are the reason…
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Crawl For Cancer Live
3,500 participants. 1,400 pitchers. Ten venues. Seven hours. Two exemplary charities. One and only resource for this philanthropic spectacle.Join Gossip CBUS before you arrive, as you enjoy, and after you leave for an unprecedented view of this outstanding event. From 12:30 p.m. until 2:30 a.m., our twitter will be live with the events, people, and sites, which will make the memories…
When and where will we be? You know you love me…
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Twitter Live Only: Volume Two
Love Always Live? Love our columns? Don’t follow our twitter? You should and here’s your motivation… This is a specific evening. Twitter will be your one and only resource. No column will be written….
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