Skip to content


My

Topic #2
My Neighbors. I think I'll kill them.

 

Avery

Janet

Ok, now before one of you bleeding heart liberals start calling the police on me, let me clarify the topic. I don't really want to kill my neighbors, there is only one of my neighbors who I really want to kill.

Upon further consideration (and some advice from my legal counsel&#41… I really don't want to kill my downstairs neighbor. I just want to hurt him really badly.

I am not sure what annoys me more… the fact that even though he is TWO FLOORS under our apartment I can still hear his wannabe pseudo-techno god-awful music thump thump thumping so loud that the cats freak out OR the fact that when you knock on his door that he doesn't acknowledge that there is anyone out there OR the fact that when you confront him the next day he can't recall that he was even playing music the last night.

ARRGH! It makes me so mad that I want to go out to his circuit breaker, kill the power, and stand outside his door, waiting for him to come out so I can introduce him to by friend Louisville Slugger.

The damn thing is this: EVEN though I have called the cops twice on him and EVEN though I have complained to the landlord (who, by the way, is great man who is between a rock and a hard place due to this schmuck&#41… if I ever threatened this arrogant bastard, I'd be the one arrested.

Why the hell can't people take personal responsibility for their actions anymore?

The guy who lives two floors below us makes me so tense.  I mean, he makes my blood pressure go so sky-high that I feel short of breath.  All of this stress simply because either he's deaf, or he thinks the rest of the other 9 apartments are, because he plays his stereo at the loudest volume possible, with the loudest bass possible.

We're talking so loud that we can hear the songs over our TV set…and this is TWO floors away!  TWO!  And this isn't just a couple of hours on a Friday or Saturday night, no sir.  It is completely without warning, just unpredictable enough so that you have to sit anxiously on the edge of the couch for the rest of the night (20 minutes of music, 10 minutes of silence, 30 minutes of music, 30 minutes of silence…has he stopped for good?&#41. 

 I once left work at 10:00 AM with a sickmaking migraine headache. When I got home the music was on!  On another occasion I came home from a terrible day at work.  At 5:00 PM the music was on! One night I was trying to relax and get ready for bed (8:00 PM this time&#41 What? You guessed it!  Music!  On!

The peculiar thing about this situation is the fact that we had lived here for, like two years without hearing a peep out of this guy. Then all of a sudden it was like an epidemic, happening every day.  Then for about a year it was relatively quiet again. He's very cyclical, that neighbor.

You would think that complaining and calling the police would get him evicted. But NO!  In San Francisco, everyone has rights…and it's almost impossible to evict someone without a docket chock full of a year's worth of proof.  I could go on and on about the earplugs and Nytol I had to buy, but he just shut off the music.  I hope it's for good this time! 

Posted in Topics of the Week (1990s).


Chris Comes to the Spigot

The news came out on Friday, September 10. Wizards of the Coast, the company that distributes Pokemon cards (as well as many card-based games, such as Magic the Gathering&#41, was being acquired by Hasbro. Hasbro also announced that they would expand the card distribution to increase sales to major retail stores (like Toys R Us and K*B Toys&#41 and bookstores.

I'm sure that 99% of you out there don't give a damn about this, but when one of your friends owns a comic shop, it can spell disaster for them. This sort of move, especially during the pre-holiday season, is the sort of thing that could put many independent comic/game shops out of business.

I found this news out from Chris, a friend that owns the comic shop that Janet and I frequent. It was in the same breath (ok, virtual breath because it was all done online&#41 that he mentioned that he could use a beer. So, we decided to meet up at The Spigot at 8:30pm so we could drown our collective sorrows in pints of Spaten Oktoberfest beer.

Within minutes of arrival at the Spigot, Chris stopped licking his wounds and the conversation moved quickly into ribald stories of drinking, traveling and eating. As the conversation progressed, Janet mentioned that we had just come back from Boston, and I asked Chris if he had ever been to the Sunset Grill and Tap in Allston (a district of Boston&#41 before.


If you haven't read my posting of our trip to Boston yet, this would be a good time to give it a quick read before continuing with the story… otherwise, the ending just won't make any sense.
It seems that Chris makes an annual pilgrimage to the Sunset with a group of his buddies. The last time he was there, he decided that all he was going to drink were yards of beer. Most normal men can handle one yard. A staunch person like myself could probably handle two. Chris handled four full yards of beer… without going to the restroom. Though his recollection of the night is fuzzy, he recalls that when they finally kicked his party out because the bar was closing, he responded by watering the side of the building with the aforementioned four yards of beer.

Chris' friends who lived in Boston informed him that due to the way he carried on that night, the Sunset imposed a two yard per person limit.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: what a small freaking world.

Posted in Barflies At Large.


"So, why hadn't we been to Boston yet?"

It was a simple enough question when you think about it. I mean, we did live there for almost two years before moving to San Francisco… and we are only living about an hour and a half away from there… and it is only about five dollars in tolls to get there and back. Ok! Enough already! We'll go to Boston!

That's pretty much how the discussion went earlier this month. We picked a day (September 5&#41, woke up dreadfully early, filled the Kia up with some hi-test and hit the open road.

The details of the drive are even less than interesting. I-84 is actually quite a pretty drive. However, once you hit the Mass Pike, all you see is concrete. Miles and miles of concrete. Boring concrete. At least we could tune in WFNX radio out of Boston for the last 45 minutes of the drive.

We made it into Boston around 8:30, and by 8:45, we had parked the car in a lot under the Prudential Center mall (solely out of convenience&#41 and were trying to figure out what the hell to do next. Usually, when we take a trip somewhere, we set up a list of things to do. Now, it's not like we detail every minute of the trip, but it's good to have an agenda. For example, here are the basic notes that we put together for our trip to NYC:

Meet up with Annie (a friend from San Francisco who recently moved to Manhattan&#41 for drinks and dinner
Go to d.b.a. for a couple of beers
Find some noren (Japanese curtains&#41
Try and hook up with Janet from Janet Jewelry to have our rings re-sized
Hit Anime Crash (Japanese animated movies&#41 and Kinokuniya (Japanese book store&#41
Look around Soho
Try and find a good place to have moules frites (Belgian mussels and fries&#41

As you can see, it wasn't an itinerary, or even an agenda, but just a guide of things that we wanted to do. However, we didn't have anything close to that for this trip, aside from the fact that we knew that we would either be having dinner at Gyuhama or Cafe Sol Azteca, two of our favorite restaurants from when we were living there.

So, the trip started out with us trying to figure out what the hell we wanted to do. Since we were close to Newbury street, the first choice was just to walk around there and window shop. Well, window shop was all we could do because none of the shops opened before noon. "That's right," we quickly remembered "Boston opens late on Sundays!"

Still, we wandered up and down the street, peeking into stores that we once shopped at, lamenting the loss of Coffee Connection to Starbucks and standing in shock at the now vacant building that used to be Waterstone's Books.

Ok, that shot a whole hour. What next?

Next was Harvard Square. Though it had been over five years since we were last on the T (Boston's light rail system&#41, we knew the basic way to get there: Green Line to the Red Line, get off at Harvard Square. We walked to Arlington station and went down to the booth to purchase our 1 day T passes. Unfortunately, the Arlington T station didn't sell passes, but in a show of good faith, he let us in for free, telling us that we can purchase the passes at the transfer station.

Harvard Square… well, it was Harvard Square. The nasty, smelly Au Bon Pan was still there, as was Herrell's Ice Cream and Harnett's Naturopathic/Health Food Shop. The great magazine shop in the middle of the square was still there as well! Woo hoo! Five years and everything was pretty much the same!

Cambridge was a blast… we ate asian noodles, bought some closeout Timbuk 2 Messenger Bags from Urban Outfitters, and spent way too much money at Anime Crash, Million Year Picnic (one of the best comic book shops in the country&#41 and Newbury Comics (where we didn't actually buy any comics but did buy lits of little knick-knacks&#41. Unfortunately, by the early afternoon we were all tuckered out from walking and shopping, so we decided to make a trip down to our old neighborhood (Allston&#41 to search out the legendary Sunset Grill and Tap.

The Sunset Grill and Tap is one of the beer meccas of the world. Unfortunately, when we were living there, I was quite underage, making it impossible to actually enter the bar. Legend was that this bar had every beer known to man available. Rumor was that there were over one hundred taps and a couple hundred beers available in the bottle. As a self-proclaimed beer geek, I knew that we must find this place… and since it would allow us to walk through the old neighborhood, I figured that it was a worthwhile place to grab a cold beer and relax. This time it was the Red Line to the Green Line "B" train, exiting at Harvard and Commonwealth.

The neighborhood was pretty much the same as we had left it years before… except now it was being called Allston Village in an attempt to bring the yuppies and socialites (and their money&#41 to the area. We walked up Harvard Ave and entered the Sunset.

Holy shit.

First off, the taps run across the whole back wall… with over 140 beers available (and only two non craft beers on tap… Amstel Light and Heineken&#41. I asked if they had a list and they presented me with a book (ok, actually a pamphlet&#41 that listed over four hundred different beers (between the bottled and the taps&#41. They had everything that I could ever want: Anchor Small Beer, Thurn und Taxis Roggen (a rye beer&#41, Stella Artois (a Belgian Pilsner&#41, North Coast Brewing's Red Seal Ale and to top it off, Framboise and Hoegaarden on tap! Life was good. Before we left, we made sure to get punch-cards for their two beer clubs: the craft beer club and the yard club. Once you get through the card, they give you a prize (usually a shirt or mug&#41… and since there was no expiration date, it seemed to make sense. Upon further examination of the yard club's card, it noted that they serve a maximum of two yards of beer per person per night. Considering that each yard is over a quart of beer, this made of sense to me… though I wondered how a person could ever consume more than two without passing out.

Post Sunset Grill, we meandered back towards the car, stopping at New England Comics and then walking up Newbury Street. By the time we made it back to the car, we were hungry and decided to make our final stop of the night at Cafe Sol Azteca, our favorite Mexican restaurant of all times.

We made it home at 9:45… fifteen minutes before Iron Chef started on the Food Network. Truly, this was a very good way to spend a Sunday.

Posted in Smirks.


Back to School Special

Why I Hate the Web (Ironic, Ain't it?&#41: A Report
By Janet Glasser, just in time for back-to-school.

I hate the web because it's infinite. Because I can surf and surf until the cows come home and link my way through several million different subjects, but when I have a specific question or want to find something out about a specific place or thing, search all I might, No Matches Found. Or six million matches found, all of them outdated and none of them helpful. Websites themselves are even infinite: I recently visited a site that I hadn't been to in quite a while and found out that the entries he had written could now be sorted 101 different ways. I started out thinking that I had two new entries to read, but every time I sorted them — by subject, by date, by area — I got a bigger and bigger list of entries. So many new ones, in fact, that I got overwhelmed and left the site. I have problems finishing magazines in a timely fashion, never mind something that updates constantly.

I hate the web because it's hyped as such a new and modern form of media, but all it really is is 60-year-olds sending e-mail to their grandchildren and everybody else forwarding lousy urban myths to everyone they know. The internet is something that came to pass during my lifetime…something new, as pure as the driven snow — nothing but potential on top of potential. All it seems to be now is just another giant billboard — a big, slow-loading billboard — for every single corporation, every single soft drink company, every single movie, with a bunch of teen-aged websites ("Come look at my website full of pictures that I ripped off from other websites, but none of that boring text, which is good because with my god-awfully patterned background you couldn't read a thing anyway!"&#41 mixed in for flavor.

The web's not that big out here, on the East coast. When we lived in San Francisco, I had a job that afforded me the luxury of being able to surf the web for several hours during my workday, and guess what! Everyone else was doing it too! And when we came home from work, the computer went on and stayed on until we went to bed. Our computer used to be strategically placed on the coffee table in front of the couch, which of course faced the TV, so no matter what we were doing — eating, watching TV, playing video games — we were at the same time surfing the web, writing updates for Scowl, sending e-mail, or chatting. Nearly all of our friends had their own personal websites which were updated frequently. Everyone knew at least HTML. Everyone was connected. Every bit of information was up-to-the-second. It gets to be all about updating, and who is and isn't doing so (i.e. "They never update" = the site's updated three times a week. See how easy it is for virtual life to surpass real life?&#41

I hate the web because sometimes I want to read…oh, how do I put this…at least semi-intelligent and time-and-space-worthy information without wading through the following:

"And for all those people who hate Tori Spelling because she is skinny, you can just SHUT UP because she is pretty!!!!!! And she is a GOOD PERSON!!!!!!!!!!! SHE IS NOT THE BITCH, YOU ARE!!!!!!!!!!!"

Or the middle-aged "Diary of a cat-loving, single, overweight, been-through-hell-and-back born again Goddess." Sample excerpt: "I know I am living my life to the fullest, even with the disease. I am growing stronger in love and in life! The cat loves to curl up around my toes and purr; it's as if she knows I have made peace with the past!" (Spelling errors may or may not occur in this type of entry, depending on literacy level of the individual Goddess.&#41

Or this crap: "If you know me, then DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!! Anyway, even if you do know me, I'm only using the first letter of the first names of people on this site. I have changed the names of everyone I know for this site and I have also changed a few of the details of their lives, so unless you REALLY DESERVE TO BE HERE you will not know who I am talking about." (In other words, what the hell's the point? Just another hairclog in the septic system which is The Web.&#41

Then there's always the "I have a free website and on the website I put only icons which move, like the envelope which keeps stuffing and unstuffing itself , and the little walking man, and the lizard who keeps peeking it's head out of the ground because I want my exit on the information highway to be unique" website.

And finally, anything that mentions the phrase "Our own little corner of the web" or has the sole purpose to be a site solely for the purpose of keeping "the family" informed of upcoming family reunions.

Since we've moved to Connecticut, I haven't really surfed the web at all, and have been more and more disenchanted (or is it bored?&#41 with the web as a whole. I still write for Scowl, but aside from that and balancing the checkbook on Microsoft Money, I rarely log onto the computer. Is it because the computer is in another room now? Is it because the weather's better here in the summer? Is it because my job doesn't even afford me the luxury of going pee, I'm so busy? Or do I really… have I really…grown to hate the web?

If you need me, I'll be busy deleting the 84 pieces of daily spam from my Hotmail account.

Posted in Observations.


March Beers in Fall…

Janet and I decided that we should go to the Spigot for a beer after work on Friday. So, we sat down on the new comfy stools at the bar and ordered a round. Janet got her usual, a Magic Hat #9, while I decided that I would get a Belaven Scotch Ale.

I really didn't want a Scotch Ale, what I really wanted was a good Octoberfest Märzenbier, but since I didn't expect to see a Märzenbier on tap until late September, I made due with the Belhaven. Scotch Ales and Märzenbiers share a similar maltiness, but Scotch Ales are… well… ales, while Märzenbiers are lagers… and that difference meant everything to me that night.

I was two sips into my Belhaven when Janet pointed at the newly revised tap list… and there it was: Spaten Octoberfest. Aah, Spaten! The true king of beers and the master of the Märzenbier style! How could I have missed you on the list? I quickly downed the Scotch Ale in front of me and immediately moved onto the Spaten. From the first caramely sip, I knew that I was not only in heaven, but also in extreme danger that I would not be able to leave the bar seat by the time I had my fill.

But three pints of Märzen later, I was not only able to get up, but I was able to walk home and order delivery Mexican food from Coyote Flaco as well… now if I can only get them to start serving Bratwurst and Weisswurst, I'll never have to leave the bar again.

Posted in Barflies At Large.


McAssholes

Yesterday morning, on our way to Boston, we decided to stop off at McDonalds for a quick Egg McMuffin. We spotted a sign for a McDonalds off of I-84 (exit 64&#41 and decided that it was as good a place to stop as any.

We parked the car and went to the "server" to place our order. The "servers" however were too busy talking to a friend that stopped by that none of them were able (or willing&#41 to "serve" us. Two minutes later, a management-type person (he was wearing a tie&#41 came out from the back and told the "server" closest to us to take the order. Instead of apologizing to us for being more interested in talking to her friend than to actually do her job, she decided to turn around and repeat the manager's request in a mocking tone back to him. Then she finished her conversation and then did she take our order.

If that wasn't enough, when the McMuffins were ready, she got involved in another conversation with another friend that showed up… delaying her from actually putting the McMuffins into the McBag and serving them to the McFuckingCustomers!

It's people like this that make me want to vote down every raise-in-the-minimum-wage proposal that comes around.

Posted in Scowls.