I've Said It Before...

…and I’ll say it again.  I hate hippies.

All I wanted was a sandwich. Just one sandwich.  It was late Thursday night.  I had just finished at the gym and wanted to hit up the Subway near Windward.  As I was locking my bike up out front, I watched as three high school aged, baggy pants, shaggy haired, Birkenstock wearing, male hippies wandered into the shop ahead of me.  I could tell as they passed me they were high.  Damnit. 

Inside, they proceeded to take their jolly-ass old time ordering.  Whispering to the gentleman trying to get their food together, it took them a good ten minutes before the decided what they wanted.  They couldn’t grasp the concept placing an order.  Verbs eluded them.  These three degenerate hippies-in-training talked amongst themselves in between each condiment and vegetable added to their sandwich.  It was painful. 

After ten minutes, finally, it came my turn to order.  It was a very simple request: Italian BMT, 6-inch wheat roll.  As I was sitting there, bullshitting with the man behind the counter, a full-grown hippie couple, both equipped with dreadlocks, walked into the shop.  The female yells out, “We’re just getting fucking water!”  No one prodded her, she just yelled.  One of the employees orders her leave immediately.  The woman yells something about “The Man” and reassures everyone in the Subway her and her man are just getting water.  The guy behind the counter tells me the couple often comes in and steals soda, and once came in to order a sandwich.  When it came time to pay, the guy said he had no money and tried to reach over the counter and steal the sandwich.  When he failed at his attempt to de-sandwich the ‘Way, he yelled profanities and shit about the Subway employees being instruments of The Man.  Yeh, b/c these two Hispanic guys working at eleven at night are single handedly holding these dirty, lazy ass mothers back from accomplishing all their life’s goals.  GET A JOB YOU DIRTY HIPPIES!!

Anyway, as the three pre-pubescent retards are discussing if they are going to eat-in or take-out, a young gentleman (see asshole) comes in looking for the bathroom.  He is instructed there is no public bathroom; read the sign in the window.  The dude then asks, “Well what about the bathroom you use?”  “That’s for employees only, and you don’t work here.”  Well, apparently that wasn’t what this little stoner fuck wanted to hear.  He proceeded to call both employees pussies and knock over a rack of chips on his way out.  Not to be defiled, I watched one awesome move.  One of the Subway guys picked up a whole avocado and whipped it as hard as he could at the back of the kid’s head.  It missed him by a pin’s width and clipped the side of the door as the little bastard ran out. 

The juvenile potheads finally paid for their food, making it my turn to pay for my sammy and get home for The Daily Show.  I step up to the register, and my sandwich is gone.  One of the little bastards took my sandwich.  At this point I am so annoyed, I’m blatantly talking to the guy behind me about how much I hate stoner hippies and how stupid they are, knowing this little pricks can full on hear me.  I inform the kid he took my sandwich, but he assures me that it was the one he watched get wrapped up.  He can’t focus on the lettuce being put on his sandwich, but he swears on a bible he picked up the right sandwich.  I ask him two more times to check and give me the sandwich back.  I point out there are four sandwiches on their table and only three of them, so they must have my food.  The give me what I presume is my sandwich back.  The Subway guy apologizes and I tell him not to worry about it; it’s not his fault lazy prick-hippies come into his store and treat him like crap.  I pay, and leave. 

Upon arrival back at The Hotel, I open my sandwich only to realize the little stoner gave me the wrong sandwich.  The damn kid was so high, he opened the wrapping of the sandwiches, checked them, and then still proceeded to give me the wrong sammy.  How high do you have to be to forget what you ordered thirty seconds after you sat down? 

Five dollars down the shitter.  Now I wish I wasn’t taking a month off of drinking.  If dealing with stupid hippies doesn’t make you want to pound a beer, I don’t know what does. 

To close, I feel bad that member of Dave Matthews Band who died.  My prayers go out to his friends, family, and band mates.  But maybe, just maybe, they’ll stop making music now, and these stupid jam band following, flower dress wearing, pot smoking, white-man hating, drum circle bongo playing, crown made of vines wearing, “I will work for marijuana” sign holding HIPPIES will go away.  Do something with your lives and stop complaining. 

Welcome to paradise…

Illadelph Stopover

I am currently watching The Sound of Animals Fighting live DVD “We Must Become The Change We Want To See.”  This super group has only played four live shows ever in their existence, and luckily, their final performance in Los Angeles was documented for historical reference.  The Skunk even proclaims, “You are the last people who see this forever.”  So far it’s pretty amazing.  Like watching the second coming of Jesus or something.  (And it also cements the fact The Skunk is the probably the greatest frontman of all time… The Ram kills it pretty hard too.)

Last weekend I made an unannounced trip back to my favorite city in the country, Philadelphia.  The only people who knew I was returning were my parents, my sister, Janine (Rin’s roommate shhh) and my buddy Todd.  My original plan was to document the whole trip on camera so I could make a nice little video about the whole extravaganza, plus I could give you people a nice visual instead of just having words for you to read.

I landed in Philly Friday around 4 PM where my good friend Caitlin picked me up at the airport.  Driving in pouring down rain and rush hour traffic, it took us about an hour to get from the airport to my sister’s new place in Manayunk.  Steph had dinner waiting; her roommate Colleen and her had ordered from a little Italian joint near their house and a spicy chicken wrap waited for me.

From there, we all got ready for the big shebang.  See the main reason for me coming home, besides to see my family, and besides the fact I haven’t been close to Philly since Xmas 2007, was a party Todd was throwing.  Back in July, during a phone conversation I had with Todd while I was at the Whaler, we decided Todd would throw a party and I would come home and surprise everyone.  Caitlin met us at my sisters, and she drove Steph, her boyfriend Joe, and myself to the party. 

I got everyone though.  I got them good.  Todd told Jamie, his wife, but that’s all who knew.  Oh, and Josh found out b/c Todd is an idiot and let it slip when Josh said he was bringing a case of Yuengling (“Perfect, Mallick will love that… uh wait.” Dumbass.  He hadn’t even started drinking yet.  Everyone was there though.  CW and his fiancé Alair, Josh, Todd, Jamie, Bill and Marie, Todd’s buddy Jesse from home and his girlfriend, Ben and his wife Kelley from Harrisburg, Josh Young from Bethlehem, and of course our tribe.  We all proceeded to get drunk on Yuengling and Maker’s Mark.  We all caught up, played beer pong, and made fun of Bill’s lack of work out commitment until about midnight before all the little kiddies started to fall. 

Caitlin drove the four original horsemen back to Steph’s where Steph and Joe went to bed and Caitlin and I stayed up until about 2:00 AM catching up on life. 

The Sound of Animals Fighting DVD is still pretty amazing.

The next morning I met up with Caitlin, her boyfriend Mike (who I am meeting for the first time??), Janine, and her boyfriend (lame).  We went to the Manayunk Diner and I do highly recommend if you are ever in the area, and looking for good diner food with great service, go somewhere else.  Seriously.  We should have gone to Famous Ray’s.  At least there you can get a milkshake with your breakfast.  We must have waited for an hour for our food, the waitress forgot to put in Caitlin’s order, or messed it up or something.  It was so terribly lame.  The food was decent, but not good enough to make up for the lack of professionalism at this place.  It put a few of the people there in foul moods, which sucked.  All in all though, it was good to see them.  Didn’t get to talk to Janine too much b/c her boyfriend kept leaning in like he was trying to prove to everyone he had a girlfriend and she was allll his.  Douche.  Mike was a pretty good guy; I feel like I met him before though.  He used to work at Iron Hill in West Chester, so I have a weird feeling I met him back in the Viva days. 

Not that it’s any kind of rebellious move, but I made it a point to stick like three RAD GIRLS stickers and two of Devon’s photo stickers on the glass windows of the Diner.  They can suck it.  (Those stickers can also be found all over Manayunk, North Philly, and Roxborough currently.)

Saturday afternoon I spent with my parents.  We first took a trip down memory lane and went back to visit La Salle, where both my dad and I went.  We bought like five hundred dollars worth of swag at the bookstore, walked the campus, and even got a chance to meet up with one of my old Comm. professors Brother Gerry whom I keep in touch with still on a semi-normal basis.  So much has changed on the campus since I’ve went there, let alone since my dad did.  They are building a new science center.  They added quad-dorms on the south campus, along with a second dining hall.  Part of 20^th Street was closed and made into a walkway for the students.  La Salle purchased part of Germantown Hospital for their nursing department, and a bridge over Wister is being built linking the two parts of campus.  The groundwork for the new grocery store has also taken place.  Crazy.  It’s like a real college now. HA!

For dinner, we walked the length of Manayunk.  It was good to see Main Street.  We made our way down to Kildares where we had a traditional Irish dinner since all of the Irish meals were on sale.  Unbeknownst to us it was exactly halfway to St. Patty’s Day.  Awesome.  The food was great, and it was good to see my parents.  I saw my dad two weeks prior, and my sister two weeks before that, but hadn’t seen my mom since Xmas. 

Saturday night I took it easy and met Todd, CW, Jamie, and Alair for a beer at Castle Roxx, which is a block from my sisters. After, I drove up to my old apartment at Summit Park and met with Kyle, since he missed the big party.  Not knowing I was in town, he went back to Pottsville for the night to visit his parents.  We hung out at the old place until about 4:00 AM (damn).

Sunday I woke up.  Steph made me breakfast.  Then I began packing.  I news-papered up two cases of Yuengling and stuffed five boxes of Tasty Kakes into my carry on for the trip back to the Left Coast.  I was like a drug mule for Pennsylvania goods.  The only reason I didn’t have soft pretzels is b/c they were cash only at the airport and I didn’t have any on me.

Other than the pretzels, the trip was a complete success.  Although, I never really got any footage of the party.  We all got too drunk and I forgot to film anything.  I haven’t gone through footage yet, so maybe there is something salvageable.  We will see.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Other news: 

My good friend Andrea Wasse (again) is getting huge.  Her song “Cold Feet” appeared on the CW show Privileged last week; she even had a bumper at the end with the voiceover saying her name.  She is currently writing with this guy Hunter from some band called AFI.  Her new EP Barflies and Lullabies will be out soon and I promise to buy everyone copies.  I’ve heard most of the songs and they sound fantastic.

There is a good chance Devon will be on the new season of Survivor.  She is going into the casting session on Monday.  (The woman in charge of casting is a friend of hers from Syracuse.)  Let’s keep our fingers crossed for her!

Going to see Pascual Murderface play tonight with his new band Groamville.  8:45 in Van Nuys.  If you read this, and want to go, gimme a call and I’ll tell you where and how much.

I’m re-watching the DVD now.  It’s that amazing.

We’re hanging from our ankles…

This Is The Song That Doesn't End

It’s been a while folks.  I know.  I’ve a good excuse don’t worry.  And a lot of good stories too. In fact, this post may take a few days for me to actually write (which of course in turn will probably lead to some more stories).

To begin, just so you all know why I’ve been MIA; I’ve been producing the new season of RAD GIRLS.  Segment Producing to be exact.  We began prepping back in late June in our cute little production office aka J-mar’s house.  We discussed skits, amped them up, re-wrote some, cut some out, pushed some aside for later, and had a lot fun imagining what the next few weeks were gonna be like putting all of these crazy ideas on HD camera.  J-mar, Clementine, Munchie, Ramona Cash, and I put together an ideal, precise schedule, which would not only work in perfect harmony with our locations, but also keep the creative juices at their boiling points.  This plan of attack would eventually be thrown right out the window, right along with my sanity. 

Our entire central crew was seven people: the three girls, J-mar, Chris aka Kwissy Avalon, and Benji, aka, Benji, and me.   Benji and Kwiss were our camera guys, but just as much a huge part of the creative process as any of us.  What made me so insane was that I was production.  Me.  I called and locked locations, got the permits, did the schedule, redid the schedule, threw out the schedule, got all of the releases, purchased and dealt with the props… um… yeh, anything I’m missing?  Basically what I’m trying to tell you is I did everything.  And worried about everything.  Benji has like twenty minutes of footage of me from on-set looking around with a worried look on my face, like a deer who just heard a branch break in the woods. 

The first stop on our trip was Santa Cruz.  Now, I don’t want to really give away any huge spoilers on the show.  You can get little hints by the photos I have posted on the Rad Girls website (I’m getting production photographer credit on the show as well).  I had never been to Santa Cruz before this, but let me tell you, it’s a pretty beautiful little town.  It’s not a place you pass on the highway; you actually have to make it a point to go “over the hill” to find it.  There are no chains there of any kind, so no fast food, no Starbucks, no nothing.  All good food, all the time.  I might even try to convince my parents to go up there to watch the Tour of California this year.  I know I am definitely going to have to make more trips up there to visit my friends, but also to enjoy this quiet little oasis.

To make us feel more at home, Benji was nice enough to let us guys crash at his house, which also happens to be the lodging for Dirty Penny, a modern day 80’s hair band.  Great guys; they usually stay at The Hotel when they come to play in LA.  They were out on tour across the country, so there was plenty of available beds.  What Benji failed to tell us was that while Dirty Penny was out touring the country, their merchandise guy, Crazy Kyle, and his 17-year old girlfriend, Dom, were keeping up the house, or rather not keeping up the house. 

I’m not a clean freak by any means, but it was like a flophouse in there.  Benji even didn’t stay there anymore, but rather opted to crash out over at his amazing girlfriend Lindsay’s place across the street (lucky guy).  I didn’t walk around barefoot once.  The kitchen was the worst.  Kyle and Dom would cook pasta for dinner, and then leave the dirty dishes, with leftover food in them, on the stove for days.  Fucking gross.  Dom didn’t clean the bathroom until the day before we left.  J-mar stayed in Benji’s room, which was exponentially cleaner than any other room in the house.  Chris and I stayed in DP’s room.  Three of the band mates lived together in the same room.  That room wasn’t so bad, it was a little rank from stale clothes and stagnant air being locked in there for the prior three months while the rockers had been away.  But it was home, and by Tuesday I was sitting on couches without covering them in plastic first.  And honestly, it added a little extra spice to the trip. 

All in all Santa Cruz was a great time, beautiful beaches, beautiful women, and beautiful bars.  I found my local spot for when I go to visit: The Bay Bar.  Munchie used to work there before she left for Rad Girls.  The owners Matt and Raylene were awesome, so awesome they let us take over for a night and film some stuntmen there (if you don’t know, you’re better off).  Also, the bartender James and I apparently share the same iPod. We spent a couple glorious nights down in Capitola (the little town near Santa Cruz where the Bay Bar is located) discussing the finer points of Thursday’s greatness and why Silverstein is always worth going to see in concert.

Next stop was Florida.  The guys were lucky enough to get the long straw this time and stayed in Clementine’s parents’ condo in Fort Pierce, Florida.  The Girls’ stayed in her parents sport yacht (wait, did we win or lose this fight?).  We spent ten days traveling up and down the coast of Florida from Fort Pierce, to Clementine’s hometown of Okeechobee, to Jacksonville, to the gorgeous shores of West Palm Beach.  Our good friend, and now fellow Rad Girl Jenny Jen Pants came and joined us for most of the Florida excursion. 

The highlight of my trip to Florida (or possibly the worst experience of my life, you can decide after reading this) was probably how Team Rad helped me celebrate my birthday.  The culmination of my birthday season (it begins on July 4^th) usually ends twenty days later on the 24^th, but thanks to Benji, J-mar and Chris, my birthday solstice began a day early and lasted for three whole days. 

Night one began with the guys and I drinking a case of Yuengling (the greatest beer on the planet) while hanging out with our good friend Jack Daniels.  Near the end of our bottle of Jack, I decided it was time for me to get some sleep because I had it in my head I was going to get up early and go running with Munchie.  However, the rest of the guys had other plans.  I don’t remember much except sheets being ripped off me and being beaten incessantly with pillows, including a few choice shots to the nuts.  This lasted from about 3:00 AM to 5:00 AM. Awesome.

The next morning, on my actual birthday, hung over as shit, I get packed and get the male squad down to the van on time, but the girls were running late.  So, to pass the time, Benji suggested we go have a “birthday beer.”  We head back up to the condo and Benji passes the lone Yueng-dog to myself, while he and Kwiss take Heinie’s.  J-mar turns one down b/c his stomach is upset.  Understandable.  Benji rolls camera on me I assume for DVD material of their Segment Producer’s birthday morning.  We “cheers” and I take a huge swig of my beer, and it doesn’t taste right.   Right off the bat I figure they’re fucking with me.  I guessed they put laxatives in my beer and I would have mud butt all day.  I refuse to drink another drop until they tell me the deal.  Benji agrees they were screwing with me; they allegedly put some left over Jack in my beer to try to have me fuct up for most of my birthday.  I am warily convinced to take another belt.  I do, and determined to guess what is wrong with my favorite beer (b/c trust me, I know what Yuengling tastes like) I swish the second massive gulp around in my mouth like a mouthful of Scope before a hot date.  I swallow and say aloud, “This definitely isn’t Yuengling” to which Benji replies, ”Yeh, that’s because it’s my pee!”  Awesome, again.

And it’s all on camera.

The best part was that after being wasted, and being beaten all night, drinking my friend’s urine the next morning, I get stuck driving to Okeechobee while the rest of the guys sleep.  Thanks team.

The night of my birthday I got a little relief.  After a nice dinner and amazing hospitality from Todd and Tina (Clementine’s parents), I am surprised with a Princess Party Cake from the Rad Girls.  This actually is pretty awesome.  Decorated with My Little Ponies and Barbie’s, with “Happy Birfday Mallick (GAY)” written across it, it was one of the funniest, and best, birthday cakes I have ever gotten.  Thanks everyone for a wonderful end to my birthday season.

Wrong. (Wrong meaning it’s not the end, the cake and singing were amazing and so sweet.)

Friday we traveled to Jacksonville to stay with our friends Shaun and Jennie Moss, a totally awesome married couple that is throwing a huge party for our arrival.  Held at a club on the wrong side of the tracks, they booked punk bands, built a wake-boarding pool, had open bar, and hired some amazing artists to take over the place.  Best part was my cousin Danny came down with his new fiancé Alecia came to hang out.  I haven’t seen Danny in a little over three years, and have never met Alecia.  I was hoping they didn’t feel uncomfortable at all.  I still had to work, but I wanted to catch up and make sure they were having a good time.  I wasn’t sure how conservative they were, because you know, we’re not so much.  The night was great, we had fun, had some beers, and save from somebody pulling a gun on someone else outside during a major battle royale, and us having to run out the back, it was pretty memorable.  Oh yeh, I almost forgot.  I was given one last gift from out friends Shaun and Jennie Moss: Jennie tried to give me a nice, tasteful lap dance, but goddamn Shaun got in the way and tried to lay his sack on my face.  Awesome, three times.

I must say it was probably the best birthday I ever had.  Great friends, great trip, (mostly) great memories.

A few more days were spent filming in Florida before we returned to LA.  A nice four day weekend full of drinking and The Hotel and The Castle and everywhere in between bridged our return from the dirty south and three final days of filming which included guest spots by actor Tiny Liston, porn star Mary Carey, and future (and actually present) boxing phenom, 13-year-old Matthew Vasquez. 

I got a little revenge on Chris on our way back from Florida.  I put a two-foot, double sided dildo in his camera bag.  I wish you coulda seen the looks on the airport personnel’s faces as the behemoth dong went thru the x-ray machine. However, it didn’t even come close to the look on Chris’s face when the security pulled him over to the corner to empty out his camera bag and proceeded to ask him if he packed the bag himself.  Dood.  We got him good.  He had to go back thru security and the x-ray machine.  They pulled everything out of his bag except the dildo b/c honestly I think they were scared to touch it.

Rad Girls was, and still is, easily one of the best experiences of my life.  The seven of us shared some amazing experience, and in our Santa Cruz PA Michelle I met an awesome party girl and in our LA associate producer Pascual Murderface I met another fellow lover of music and good friend.  The vacation that is Rad Girls will never end truly end, but I seriously hope for a third season b/c of all the fun I had.

With all filming done on my part, the Rad Girls off on Warped Tour for ten days, I got a nice little treat when my sister Steph and her boyfriend Joe came to visit for a long six-day weekend.  They landed Thursday morning and after food shopping, we spent the rest of the day at the beach before coming back and BBQing.  Most of the weekend we spent going through my usual routine.  Friday we went to the beach and I did a little surfing then we went down to The Whaler where Devon met my sister for the first time.  Saturday we rented bikes (well, I used mine) and we took a ride up to Pacific Palisades and back.  More beach time also.  Saturday night I took them downtown to meet Brian and Andrea and the rest of the La Cita Crew.  James, who just recently moved to 4^th and Main came and hung out as well.  She was a huge hit.  Sunday while I was getting some work done, my sister and Joe went to the beach and then we went down to The Whaler again for Sunday Funday.  During our evening session, I explained to Joe and Steph the small intricacies that make Cabo Cantina such a shitty bar to enter.  After a few cocktails at my usual watering hole, Joe wanted to see the bar I loathed oh so much.  As bad as the place was, my friend Jennie was working and she hooked it up.  Also, I met Bryan Callen, a stand-up comedian and original member of the Mad TV cast.  Very nice guy.  Monday was spent at the beach, but Monday night was pretty epic:  for my birthday, Joe bought the three of us tickets to go see the Dodgers play the Phillies up at Dodger Stadium.  It was AWESOME!  Dodger stadium is gorgeous and the game was a ton of fun, except for the fact the Phillies lost.  Still, it was a perfect end to a perfect trip.  Sadly, Tuesday morning brought their trip to a close and I had to say my goodbyes.  It was really nice to see my sister; I hadn’t seen her since Xmas and we had a really amazing and relaxing trip.

And then there was one last incredible hurrah with the Rad Girls, they got Chris, Pascual Murderdace, and I VIP tickets to attend the Sad Diego stop on Vans Warped Tour.  All I have to say is: awesome! (I know.  I use that word a lot. Suck it.)  I believe I saw twenty-two bands in like eight hours.  And the best part was with the VIP tickets, we had full reign of the venue.  I watched most of the acts from the comfort of the stage.  That’s right.  On the stage.  And this year there was an old school stage where I watched Fear, T.S.O.L., and the Germs (who I met and got photos with) standing right next to them.  Meeting the Germs was easily one of the most awe-inspiring moments of my life.  They are such a historical act.  And Shane West killed it.  He filled Darby Crash’s shoes well.  It wasn’t the same, but he killed it.  Really nice guy too.  Talked with Pascual and I for a bit after the show as well, and we were kicking ourselves not asking him to go drinking with us.  Damnit.  We filmed a couple of skits too with Rise Against (fuck yeh) and Reel Big Fish (double fuck yeh). Both awesome bands and awesome guys.

The night finished back at the hotel with all of us drinking with GBH’s tour manager.  The band was sleeping in the room next to the Girls.  Unfortunately for them, but fortunately for us, they left their room wide open with the key in the door, so we had an extra room to sleep in, I got us a couple new towels for The Hotel, and Chris ordered a bunch of porn on the bands bill.  (I actually didn’t watch; watching porn with three dudes is just a little weird).  Another great Rad Girls experience.  I don’t think I can go to Warped Tour ever again without a VIP ticket.  I’m so spoiled.

Go see Tropic Thunder.  I’m amazed Ben Stiller directed.  Also, see it alone for the fact, and I support this statement completely: it’s Tom Cruise’s best acting roll ever.  Easily.  No contest.  The casting is amazing; everyone is perfect.  I’ve seen the movie twice.  Besides the three hero movies releases this year, this movie is my favorite of the year.  Save for one little annoyance at the peak of the film, it’s perfect.

Keeping it all in the family, my dad took a two day detour on his way back from a week working in Idaho Falls.  He arrived in town Friday morning, and to accommodate my dad, I took him immediately to his favorite LA hangout:  The Whaler for beers.  He loves relaxing with a few Bloody Mary’s and Fat Tires while overlooking the beach.   We spent Saturday doing the same.  He loves how much Venice reminds him of Shenandoah, the town he grew up in.  How friendly it is, and how everyone knows everybody else.  And how the head sushi chef, my buddy Ed (the 2^nd shift) comes over for a few belts before starting work, then comes back once things are up and running. Both days were capped off with us watching the Phillies play the Dodgers and, spaaaaaanking them into submission.  We swept them four games straight. BONG! 

Friday night was Johnny’s going away party at Fish Co.  He’s leaving for four months to be a camera op on Flight Of The Conchords in New York.  Bastard.  I was excited my dad anted up and join us.  My dad finally met a lot of my friends like J-mar and AJ and Joe M. 

He flew out balls early Sunday morning, but it was great seeing him, if only it was like forty-eight hours, and catch up (since I also haven’t seen him since Xmas).  Good father-son times indeed.

I know it’s been a long one, but I’ve been busy.  Lastly, I want to plug my amazing friend ANDREA WASSE’S show this weekend.

The details are:

Saturday, August 30th,

8pm SHARP

@ Room 5

143 North La Brea Ave.

Los Angeles, 90036

Go see her. You won’t be disappointed.  I’ll be there taking photos.

 

 

 

Yuengling Just Got Better!!!!

AMERICA'S OLDEST BREWERY IS NOW THE 2ND LARGEST

by: Stephanie Lasota

D.G. Yuengling & Son Inc., Pottsville, is headed for the title of second-largest domestically owned brewery in the nation.

Anheuser-Busch has been the No. 1 U.S.-owned brewery since the 1960s, according to Peter V.K. Reid, publisher ofModern Brewery Age magazine in Weston, Conn.

The Belgian-Brazilian brewer InBev is to acquire Anheuser-Busch, the maker of Budweiser, for $52 billion to create the world’s largest beer producer.

The deal, announced July 13 and expected to be completed by year’s end, would end the St. Louis, Mo.-based company’s roughly 150 years of independence as an American brewer and move D.G. Yuengling & Son Inc. — America’s oldest brewery — to the No. 2 domestically owned brewery.

Boston Beer Co. out of Boston — maker of Samuel Adams— would be the No. 1 domestically owned brewery after the deal’s done.

The transaction is subject to the approval of InBev and Anheuser-Busch shareholders and other customary regulatory approvals, according to a press release from the company.

“Anheuser-Busch is an iconic company. They’ve been around for 150 years. A member of the Busch family had always run it even though they didn’t own a majority of the stock,” said Dick Yuengling Jr., president and owner of Yuengling.

“I think it will place Yuengling on a good place in terms of how they represent themselves in the market,” Reid said Tuesday. “They’ve always been the oldest brewery in the U.S. ... and not only are they that, but they’re still family owned.”

Boston Brewing Co. is publicly owned, Reid said.

According to Modern Brewery Age statistics, Boston Beer Co. produced 1,876,000 31-gallon barrels of beer in 2007 in 50 states. D.G. Yuengling & Son produced about 1,700,000 in 11 states.

“In the market that we’re in, we have a much greater market share than that company,” Yuengling said. “But as far as overall statistics go, Budweiser, Miller and Coors still dominate the American brewing industry.”

Miller Brewing Co. was acquired by South African Breweries in May 2002, while Coors Brewing Co. is a division of Molson Coors Brewing Co. The Colorado brewer merged with the Canadian Molson in February 2005.

City Brewing Co. — a domestically owned brewer in LaCrosse, Wis. — produced 2,098,000 31-gallon barrels in 2007; however, Reid said the business may include other contracted beverages in their numbers, like Mike’s Hard Lemonade and Smirnoff Ice. That detail makes Yuengling No. 2 instead of No. 3.

But like other breweries across the nation, the Pottsville company has to contend with the rising cost of grain, a vital ingredient in beer.

“We haven’t cut anything, no, we still make beer the way we used to but we’re in the process of raising prices just like the cereal companies have raised prices and so has every brewery in the U.S.,” Yuengling said. “It’s going through the roof, it’s horrible ... You have the government out there trying to use gas out of corn and all these breweries use corn or barley or wheat ... The saleability of corn because of the sale of ethanol is becoming easier, so farmers are switching.”

The barley, processed to become malt for the beer, is derived mostly from the Midwest. Demand for biofuels are causing a shortage for brewers, Yuengling said.

“Our grain prices have gone up and right now we’re absorbing it ... That’s a fast ticket to extinction when you absorb that,” he said.

Production fell 15 percent in 2006 to 180 million bushels, down from 211.9 million in 2005, mainly due to droughts in Australia and the Midwest and more farmers choosing to grow different crops like corn and soybeans, according to information from the Idaho Barley Commission.

Yuengling said barley price increases may translate to the consumer in a $1.25 increase per case or a $7 to $8 increase per keg or half-barrel.

“In 50 years, I’ve never seen price increases like that, but you can’t absorb it and you compound that with delivery costs, there’s no way you can absorb it,” he said.

Grain prices, which are listed at price per bushel, have been rising at least once a month, he said.

“We try to sell our product at domestic premium prices ... The price structure becomes difficult when grain prices explode,” he said.

The company goes through one railroad car of grain a week — about 170,000 to 210,000 pounds, Yuengling said.

You May Kiss The Bride

Abby is leaving us.  I know.  It’s a sad day.  But, she is moving on to a better place: Oregon.  And following her dream: going to beauty school.  And we’ll all miss her:  I assume.

But don’t worry.  Before she left town we (and I’m including the Hotel Staff and all extended family) threw one helluva going away party for her.  Technically it was a “Going Away Fake Bachelorette Party” for her. 

What we did was this:  Around five PM, I busted my ass to get Abby out of the house.  She was waiting around for Bruno to get done work so Bruno could show Abby her apartment.  (Abby was going to crash there for a week while Bridget was hometown bound in Dirty Jersey.)  I worked every angle.  I tried to convince her to go for beer (“we already have enough”), tried to get her to go to Subway (“but aren’t we having dinner soon), and tried to get to go for a walk on the boardwalk (“okay, I need some new sunglasses”).  Phew!

So I get her out, but not long enough for everyone to show up.  She needs to urinate, and is ready to walk back.  I had to convince her to walk around longer.  She almost killed me b/c I wanted to stay out and look at wooden bears and fish sculptures at this store, which we actually never went in to.  Bridget finally gets done work, and I drop Abby off there to check things out, while I go back and get ready for the big unveiling.  Everyone was ready to rock:  GT and Jen, Adam F., DarrOn, Jade, and J-mar. 

Abby entered the Hotel minutes later, and knew right away people were there.  Everyone proceeded to reveal themselves, while we set Abby up for the surprises to come.  We sat her down in a chair and handed her the first gift: a veil, of course.  It was her bachelorette party after all.  Next was the big one.  Johnny gave Abby strict rules not to move, nor touch or harass the person was coming to visit.  He pressed play on his iPod and the gayest music ever began to seep out of the living room stereo.  Johnny goes to the door, and swings it open to presumably allow a very handsome, and most likely well-endowed male stripper into the room.  However, upon reveal, there was no one there, and while she, and everyone else in the room was distracted, I (that’s right, my sexy ass) dropped trough and ripped my shirt off to unleash my red, velvet thong unto the world.  Abby lost her mind.  She laughed, got up out of her chair and ran away (which is rather disturbing, b/c technically she did get the very handsome and well-endowed man she was probably hoping for, just wasn’t expecting it from Mallick.)  Anyway, she sat back down and took it… er… enjoyed the rest of the show.  And hell, even yours truly made three dollars off what she stuck into my g-string. 

After that, present number three unveiled itself in the form of a stretch limo which would be taking us to dinner up in Malibu.  We drank our faces off on the way up.  We’re pretty lit by the time we arrived.  I think I ever drunk dialed my parents b/c I thought I made a funny by stripping down to my nut huggers and thought it was a good idea to tell them immediately instead of letting them find out in the tell-all book I’ll write after I become rich and famous and lose it all better on turtle racing. 

I already forget the name of the place we ate at, but the food was great.  Mexican food and pitchers of margaritas.  Yes please!  Upon completion of the meal, we loaded back into the limo and gave Abby her last present: a “Suck-For-A-Buck” t-shirt.  For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s a tee with lifesavers sewn on and gentleman (and I use that term oh so loosely) pay a dollar to pull off with their teeth.  The limo driver was the first one to go in for the kill.  Classy guy. 

With only a brief stop for some photos on the Malibu pier, we headed to Baja Cantina where another thirty or so people came to party with Abby on her unofficial bachelorette going away party. 

It was a pretty memorable night.  Abby had so much fun.  I could tell when she came up to me and said “Mallick, you need to walk me home now.”  At least that’s what I deciphered it as.  Everyone had fun and we all got to say one last good-bye to Abby before she headed for the great white North. 

Okay, time for me to go to bed.  I know you were all hoping for a little Rad Girl action, but I had to put this down on paper first.  It’s just too funny.  I am in the midst of filming this week in Santa Cruz and I promise to get a summation of this week up and running very, very soon.  Have a good night everyone. 

I'm Never Asking For My Own Show Again

Ah yes. Another great couple of weeks working for Dakota Pictures. I always enjoy getting the call to “come and play” up in North Hollywood. The folks in and around Dakota are not only great people to work for, but are great friends as well and both add up to an ideal work environment. Hell, I don’t even mind the forty-five minute to an hour commute along the great 405 (a.k.a. The Plague) and the 101 freeways to get there. And I never have anything positive to say about the valley; who actually enjoys going to the valley anyway?

This time around we did a pilot with a Korean comedian Bobby Lee. His most famous work is from Fox’s Mad TV, but can be seen every Saturday night headlining at the Comedy Store on Sunset. Bobby is a really nice guy; it’s like working with a teenager who is given free reign at a production company (which is pretty much what it was). Although he had writer Mike Hitchcock to try to keep him grounded. I don’t want to give too much away, but just know it’s a really funny show. Very edgy, very racist, very low brow, but very smart as well. Nothing like the bullshit Mencia keeps churning out of his lame pie-hole.

One of the highlights was getting a chance to work with our old friend Fitz again. Fitz was the first Key PA I worked for back on my first season of Viva la Bam. Since he’s worked on many big budget films such as Mission Impossible 3, Stranger Than Fiction, and most recently The Dark Knight. It even wasn’t that bad with his constant barrage of insults that came across the walkie. Fucking tool.

The week was long; we easily did a six-day shoot in four days. The shortest day I worked I think was sixteen hours. Now, I’m not complaining b/c it was a lot of fun. And it was a nice change from reality TV. (The Bobby Lee Show is scripted.) I haven’t worked on scripted television since my first paying job, Hack, back when I first moved to Philly.

Now that the show is done and in post-production, I am enjoying two fully relaxing, and beach filled, weeks off. The next big thing is Rad Girls season two, which I will touch on more as it gets closer. I must say I am really excited to work on it; most of the show is on the road in Santa Cruz and West Palm Beach, Florida. I don’t even want to predict what may happen. I’ll make sure to fill you in as the trip unfolds.

Bobby Lee pretty much enveloped my life over the last three weeks, which is why I took so long to post. Even my office days finished with my two hour work out, so my schedule was mainly: wake up, work, go to the gym, go running, go to bed, maybe have time to eat here and there. Again, not complaining.

Once the show was done, I did have a little reprieve: I finally had some time to go surfing. Last Saturday, Johnny’s friend Alejo came down to Venice with his parents, and Johnny and I met him for a little sunset surf session. Now, the waves were way bigger than we expected. As the day unfolded and I made numerous trips to Bridget “Hood Rat Hooker” Blitsch’s beach party, the waves ranged from lame to non-existent. So it was surprising when ten-foot walls of wash and surf were exploding not two hours after I left Hooker watching over the cooler.

Once the three of us paddled out to sea, we sat up, and waited for the next set. As we were sitting there, the lifeguard boat all of a sudden pulled up next to us and told us to paddle back to shore. We turned around and realized we were a good two hundred yards from the sand. Apparently we missed the sign warning of the ridiculously strong undertow. We made our way back to float at least along side of the jetty. Five minutes later, I went for my first wave. It was going to be my own wave because for some odd reason no one else was going for it. In a few moments I would discover why. It was at least a ten footer. I go to stand up on the board when all of a sudden, instead of the waves curling and crashing like normal, it just burps and washes out, knocking the board out from underneath me, and I plunge to the bottom of the ocean. Usually when I wipe out, I let the wave pass, and pull myself to the surface using my leash. After the waves, I did just that, except this time, when I got the end of the leash, there was no board. The strength of the massive wake ripped the board clean off the tether. At this point I began to panic a little. As most of your know, I’m a really strong swimmer. And a hundred yard swim should only take me a minute or two to make the shore, but with the strong undertow, and waves bombarding me from behind, it was at least ten minutes before I planted my foot on solid ground. I pretty much kissed my board goodbye; I just hoped some kid in Japan would enjoy the surfboard as much as I had, but the water gods smiled on me that day, and my nine-footer was waiting for me on the shore as I arrived. Nothing too harrowing, but shook me up for a hot second. And I would be damned if I was gonna let me ass get saved.

Nothing else too exciting, my weekend was the usual (if you don’t know what I do by now, shame on you).

Finally, I began cutting the footage of the Master Cleanse Roger, Johnny, and I did at the end of 2006. I have a twenty-five minute “director’s cut” done, and now Roger is going to clean it up and shorten it for internet posting, and your viewing. I’ll be sure to let you all know when it’s complete so you can see the comedy unfold as we put ourselves through hell.

Check out Funeral For A Friend’s album “Tales Don’t Tell Themselves.” It’s a concept album where the album's main theme is water and the ocean and every song actually has a great flow and gives you the feeling of being out on the ocean. I love skateboarding to that album, and pumps me up before I hit the waves with my longboard.

I leave with the quote of the week from The Bobby Lee Show:

Bobby Lee: I’m never asking for my own show again.
PA: What happens if the show gets picked up?
Bobby Lee: I’m out!

Glad to see he’s got full confidence in his own project. Ahoy hoy. Welcome to summer!

Everybody's Working For The Weekend

Last week was pretty uneventful. 

Who am I kidding? I say that now, but I’m sure I’ll find plenty to talk about. 

Sunday Funday was pretty good. J-Mar and Clementine met me at the Whaler for a couple drinks.  Sadly, Devon was in North Carolina visiting her boyfriend Tony’s family.  Well sad for me, but good for her.  We then cruised over to Hinano’s for their world famous burgers.  So delicious. I could totally use a week out of town.  I’m actually missing the family vacation to the Outer Banks next week b/c that month off killed my income.  But what can you do?  The time off was pretty nice.  Got to regroup mentally and just sit back and breathe for a bit. 

I spent the majority of the week scouting in Koreatown for the pilot I am working on with Dakota Films.  I always enjoy working with them; it’s always such a friendly atmosphere.  Great people too.  It became a long week mainly b/c I spent most of it in my car.  I love driving, and I love listening to my iPod, but it was so hot a couple of those days, it was a race to snap photos and get back into the air conditioning of my car.  It was tough too b/c a bunch of the locations I brought back to Troy and Tally (the EP and producer respectively) they weren’t too keen on.  So, I kept going out and bring back whatever I could find.  The rest of my time I researched stock footage of the LA Riots.  I found some pretty crazy stuff.  People looting like mad, and I mean not only robbing electronic stores, but also people walking into supermarkets and stealing food.  All in plain site, mid-afternoon.  No shame. 

A little intemission before I tell you about the highlight of my week.  Go to this site and check out the second video down with Kendra from Girls Next Door.  Keep an eye out for the man with the 900 camera on his shoulder. HA!

Okay, here’s the big moment.  I never really wanted to use this as a platform into my personal life, but this is something I’m really excited about.  I went on a date Wednesday night.  Her name is Andrea and she is a musician.  In fact, for about 10 year, she was the lead singer/founder of a massive band from Canada known as The Weekend.  Not to dwell on that too much, you can do the interweb search yourself (or click on that little link back there for a start) and find out about her musical history.  Without giving too much away, the night went great. We had dinner at a little café downtown called Pete’s.  Great food, okay service, nice bottle of wine; we sat out on the patio all making for a nice little romantic scene.  Afterwards we went to La Cita (surprise surprise) the bar where we first met.  She’s completely different from the usual women I date, but it’s a good thing.  Can’t wait for the follow up and hopefully she’ll become a reoccurring character in here.

The weekend was a little crazy.  Tim Glomb was in town filming a volleyball tournament for Crocs.  Roger gave him a hand.  Tim works, and I think helped found, an advertising company in Denver known as Red Robot, and Crocs is one of their clients.  When they weren’t working, we of course had a couple drinks here and there and caught up.

Saturday I met DarrOn and Colby at the Whaler for a few drinks to catch up on all things Mobile Home Disaster since I was so unfairly (but thankfully) fired from that show.   Bruno was working and eventually joined us for a nice pitcher of Heffie.  That night was a fake wrap party for the show which I was invited to “crash.”  It was at Allan the Project Manager’s house.  I wasn’t going to go, then at the last minute got a hair up my ass, and James was looking to go out, so we drove to Allan’s up in Van Nuys and partied the night away.  I’m glad James decided to go, b/c I was highly incapable of driving home.  Oops.  He got him, the Blue Flash, and myself home all in one piece, and avoided all of the DUI checkpoints. 

Sunday was a long one too, but it was own fault.  I went to get a haircut up in Santa Monica.  Being a nice day, I rode my bike.  I then decided to go try to find Tim and Roger down in Hermosa Beach at the volleyball tourney.  Yeh, Hermosa is kinda far, but I don’t really think about it.  Never found the guys, but when all was said and done, I had been on my bike for like four hours and probably covered like thirty or so miles.  As Tim put it, “You rode down to Hermosa? That’s pretty hardcore.”  I have a nice little tramp stamp on my back too.  I guess my shirt scooted up a bit  and I have a 2^nd degree sunburn on the southern most part of my back.  It kills. 

To complete my wonderful week and weekend, we pulled the couch and Poang up to about five feet from the TV and watched the Celtics put away game number two against the Lakers.  We thought it was in the bag; up by 24 points with seven minutes left, but the Lakers had a last minute surge, and btw Roger’s farts and my farts, we sat on the edge of our seats hoping the best possible outcome.  But the Celts pulled it out.  Nothing better than seeing sad Lakers fans roaming around town.  Makes my heart flutter. 

Headed back to work today.  Tech scout Wednesday and getting the final shit ready to roll to begin filming Monday.  Should be a little crazier a week than last, but we’ll all get thru it.  And maybe, I’ll have another midweek highlight to help these next seven days along.

A friend in needs a friend indeed. A friend with weed is better.