Yakitori Boy

Oh my dear Lord. Where have you been Yakitori Boy? You have lived, sang, and held so many hot asians only a block from my apt. without me ever seeing you. Unfair. But alas I made it out to, as far as I know, the only bar in Chinatown.

In short it was amazing. It was like an old city bar without the douches. A dive bar, without the dirty grime. And a karaoke bar without the terrible singing. Wrapped in dough and fried in an egg roll. Terrific! Beer specials, spacious, sushi bar downstairs, private karaoke rooms, and hot asians. There were hot asians there...fyi.

So my friends and I were hanging out at the bar, drinking our karaoke courage juice, and taking in the sights and sounds. Without warning the manager on duty leaps on top of the bar and begins singing some song in Spanish as the crowd cheers and throws napkins like confetti. It was the best concert I have ever seen! Working the crowd. Shaking the hips. He was quite a showman.

Needless to say, Yakitori Boy blew me away and I recommend it to anyone who isn't afraid to have a good time.

Yakitori Boy, check.

Crash a Wedding

I was standing in the pew, aside my sister this Christmas Eve. Candle in hand, the lighting ceremony was going off without a hitch. No burn victims or fires, and a lack luster rendition of Silent Night. Per usual. Until the minister decides to surprise everyone there with his daughter's wedding ceremony...just tacked on to the end of the Christmas Eve service. Now this is sad for a couple of reasons.

One. It's obvious that the bride and groom desperately wanted a large wedding, in front of family and friends and in their father/father-in-law's church. However they did not have enough family/friends to fill said church so they tricked innocent, apathetic church-goers into their surprise wedding. Very sneaky Mr. and Mrs. R.J. Hickman.

And two. They totally ruined Jesus' annual 24 hours of fame. This whole service was to remind us all of the true meaning of Christmas! Now we are reminded about how sneaky and untrustworthy the Hickman's are.

So in essence I was not invited to this wedding, yet was still there. I suppose it's more of the wedding crashing me, but that sounds odd so I'll stick with the original title.

Crash a Wedding, check.

ALLive.

I had a great idea today. Although it involves cheating on blogspot with tumblr I could care less about hurting feelings. Starting tomorrow, 12/23/2009, allive.tumblr.com will be the simplest way to get you to live music in the Philadelphia area. Bored and you already went to the movies twice this week? ALLive will have every venue and whether or not they have a musician performing that night. Click the link to be sent right to the online ticket office and away you go. Easy. Music. ALLive.

ALLive, check.

Sewing

How I loved that pair of grey jeans. My friends didn't make fun of me nearly as much as they did when I wore other pairs of slim pants. I felt like a new man. My party jeans. Well I partied too hard in these poor guys and ripped a DVD sized hole in my crotch. Every other pair of jeans I own have this same hole. What was I doing wrong? Probably dancing like an idiot, but that's irrelevant.

I had to do something. It being the Christmas season, coupled with the fact that I am moving into a new house, I didn't have extra money for a silly thing like pants. So I whipped out my needle and thread and got "Grandma" all over that jawn. It took me a good hour but I closed it up like a damn surgeon. Most likely it will rip again because I was recently informed that you need to do a certain pattern to ensure a tight hold. I just went back and forth, forth and back, forth and forth, etc. Time will tell, but I got my party jeans back.

Sewing, check.

Fast

Starting tonight at midnight I will embark on a dark and unforgiving journey that few men have ever completed. It will not be easy or tasty. I will fast for 24 whole hours. There will be temptations, peking ducks staring at me upside down in Chinese storefronts. But I will not budge, no I will stand firm in my beliefs. That I must try something new everyday.

Fast, TBD...

UPDATE

Fast, check.

Wild Boar

I took the subway down to south Philly for happy hour today, South Philadelphia Tap Room being the destination. I had stopped in briefly during an apartment hunt the other week but did not have anything more than a drink to kill some time. Today however, I was hungry and the appetizers were half off in the same vein as the drafts. The wild boar tacos immediately caught my attention because I originally envisioned myself being on the "eaten" end of this situation. Wild boars run wild in Florida where my parents live and they are creepy and unlike the sing songy Pumba of Disney fame. So I ordered and devoured with zest. To be brief they were incredible. I thought the meat would be tough, and maybe it typically is, but I believe it was braised and had the perfect amount of seasoning for a rare and peculiar appetizer. Topped with diced onions and guacamole, they were fantastic.

Wild boar, check.

Become Famous

...well maybe not quite. But my first album review was posted on PlugInMusic...dot com. As in the internet. So if I'm not famous yet, the potential is definitely there. Let me know what you think and keep a look out for more musically tinted opinions from this guy.

Become Famous, check.

Stealing a Bike

This is a story of accidents.

To start, I left my wallet in a jacket I wore to work. Didn't realize until I was back at my apartment and starting the process of taking my pants off and relaxing a bit by the TV. The problem arises when I am due to look at an apartment in Northern Liberties in 15 minutes. I originally planned to ride my own bike, but remembered it wasn't in my possession (long story). Arriving home and not seeing my bicycle I turn on the primal instincts, scheming how I will get to the apt.

There are several bikes in the stairwell of my apt. building. All of which are small, beat up, and have flat tires. Needless to say I must take one. I took the closest one to me and left a note on the wall reading, "Sorry I took your bike. It was an emergency and will return it soon." P.S. I had a great cover story for the so called "emergency."

Long story short, I rode said bike, returned said bike and don't think anyone noticed. Does that count as stealing?

Stealing a bike, check.

Boxing

I didn't really plan on "trying" this new experience. It kinda just happened, because it was an event I was working tonight. Bernard Hopkins vs. Enrique Ornelas. I know nothing about either of them. Hopkins is from Philly so everyone chanted "BHop" when he was fighting. Ornelas is from Mexico so nobody chanted anything when he was fighting. At least not that I could understand, because I don't speak Spanish. The crowd was made entirely of meatheads and incredibly sexy women. The main event was kinda weak, I heard that the undercards were more entertaining, with KO's and TKO's galore. Apparently Hopkins was supposed to beat this guy then fight Roy Jones in March, pending a win for Jones in Australia today. Jones got knocked out in the first round however so who knows what these two washed up boxers will do next. Either way I don't really care.

Boxing, check.

Music Review

I wrote a live music review for a website so I can exert some creative energy. I chose a Raekwon show I saw a few weeks ago. The review is below.

First Unitarian Church, Philadelphia, PA, USA

Atop a dingy tiled platform, raised a couple of feet off the floor, the mood is relatively raucous but awkwardly still. In front of a sold out crowd in the basement of Philadelphia’s First Unitarian Church, a former Wu-Tang lyricist is about to give the crowd what they’ve been chanting for all night. “Cash Rules Everything Around Me,” the Brooklyn native mumbles into the mic. The RZA’s xylophone-laced beat kicks in and hundreds of raised hands throw up the W. Through a cloud of smoke, Raekwon steps on stage.

It is both fitting and ironic that the most street-wise, criminologist of the Wu-Tang Clan is performing in a sepia-tinted basement littered with empty Pabst cans and Philly blunt wrappers, while an active Unitarian church sits idle a few feet above the audience’s head. It is in DIY venues like this that have helped Raekwon propel himself into the hip-hop/indie limelight that he now swaggers in.

Before he even steps on stage it is clear who the night belongs to. Despite Philly native, Reef the Lost Cauze bobbing the heads of his hometown crowd, Rae chops ‘em off. Opening his set with classics like “C.R.E.A.M” the crowd of a few hundred is ready to follow the “Chef” down a lyrical alleyway of grimy, Mafioso wordplay and street jargon. Lumbering from side to side in a black flat cap, pulled low over his eyes, Rae rattles off verse after verse from his new album Only Built 4 Cuban Linx…Pt. II.

A haunting loopy soul beat kicks off “House of Flying Daggers,” one of the singles off the Billboard chart topper. The crowd nods up and down reciting word for word Rae’s tribute to the sinister dealings of the rise of a mafia boss, broken up only by the occasional W in the sky or toke on the devil’s lettuce. Other crowd favorites like “10 Bricks” and the Dr. Dre produced steel drum shaker “Catalina” has Rae’s fans simmering in the already muggy atmosphere.

It is a night of disbelief. A collision of peculiar artist, venue, audience, and ambiance. The type of show where you feel like you should shower afterwards, but honestly don’t want to. And once the Chef has finished off the last morsel of a RZA infused instrumental, he ambles off the stage in triumph, through the same cloud of smoke he entered.

Music Review, check.