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.

Adventures in Hollywood

I spent my last two nights hanging out in Hollywood.  More specifically, I spent the nights seeing a pair of concerts at the Avalon, a concert venue north of Hollywood Blvd and Vine.  The bands performing were Pelican, Circa Survive, and Thrice. 

Thursday night I stayed and watched all three acts.  I have never seen Pelican perform, but I must say I was pleasantly surprised.  I have read about them in Alternative Press; they were a band who, despite the norm, have no lead singer (of course the articles mentioned more than that, but you can track down and read the articles yourself).  When I heard they were the opening, I was curious to see how it was going to go.  They were great.  Their set was more along the lines of a laser light show accompanied with metal-ish music.  I can’t really describe their sound so much, but it’s along the lines of Between The Buried And Me without the growling and a little more melodic, almost Pink Floyd-ish.

The next act needs no introduction (well maybe a little one if you don’t know who they are): Circa Survive.  With the force of one the most beautiful sounding band names and probably the best front man of the new generation Circa Survive tore down the stage and had people screaming their lyrics in droves.  Anthony Green (the band’s infamous vocalist) danced around the stage like a possessed demon while belting out Circa mainstays such as “Act Appalled” and “Kicking Your Crosses Down.”  I highly suggest checking out this band.  Ever since the first time I saw them play back east (they are from Philadelphia – BONG!) I have been a huge fan.  It’s really hard to describe their music also except that it’s awesome.  I tried explaining them to Brian down at La Cita last weekend, but I found it really difficult, so just go their myspace or something and take a listen. 

Thrice was the headliner.  Now, I can remember the first time I saw Thrice play.  It was at the Electric Factory in Philly.  They played along side Coheed & Cambria and Thursday if your head can wrap itself around such a bill.  Thrice was born in the southern California punk scene and played punk fused with a little speed metal.  I think Vic Carreno turned me on to them, an old friend from college.  Anyway, recently, Thrice released an album entitled The Alchemy Index. It’s four smaller EPs, each with eight songs using the four elements as inspiration.  I’m not a fan.  I mean, it’s not a bad album, it’s just not a Thrice album.  I miss the old days when the show was a mass of mosh-pitters and loud vocals with the occasional acoustic jam.  I was disappointed with their performance Thursday night, as it was all over the place and not what I’m used to.  Now, I’m not entirely opposed to an band “growing up” a little, but Thrice changed it’s sound a lot and they don’t feel like the same old band.  Most of the show was the new stuff.  They opened with a couple tunes from Artist In The Ambulance and closed with “Deadbolt” from Illusion Of Safety but I feel like book-ending the show with hits just doesn’t make for a good show, especially when it’s little teeny-bopper emo chicks screaming “DEADBOLT” b/c that’s probably the only song they know.  I’m sure they have no idea what Identity Crisis even is.  All in all though, it was a decent show. 

Now Friday began like any other Friday, with an afternoon at The Whaler.  I came home, took a quick nap and made my way back to Hollywood.  Why? B/c if Circa Survive is playing, I’m there.  I went back to the Avalon like I did the night before.  Parked in the CNN building lot like I did the night before.  Walked up Sunset to Vine, then north on Vine to the venue, like I did the night before.  However, as I got closer to Hollywood Blvd, I noticed something different, unlike the night before.  Police cars kept buzzing by me.  Some guys I was standing next to noticed it as well and said something to the affect of “Something big must be going on.”  That’s when I noticed three, yes three, LAPD helicopters circling the intersection of Hollywood and Vine.  As I crossed over to the north side of the crosswalk, I turned to see an ocean of cop cars heading west on Hollywood.  Cars on Vine screeched to a halt as a white Ford Escort missing half of the front fender weaves through the traffic, tries to pull a u-turn, but instead breaks the front axle, slides up onto the south curb and smashes into the traffic light pole.  It was surreal seeing the crowd disperse like water after a fat guy jumps in a pool.  Especially b/c seconds before I was on that same corner.  Now dead where he stood, cops enveloped the car, guns in hand, and pulled the bloodied assailant from the vehicle, slammed him on the trunk of one of the black and whites, cuffed him, and threw him in the back of the car.  It… was… AWESOME!

After the police dispersed us onlookers, I went and watched Pelican and Circa Survive for the second time.  Circa played a completely different set, which was pretty dope.  It was the last night of the tour, so while they were playing, a whole mess of people (who I am assuming were techs and the other bands) crashed the stage during Circa’s last song, all dressed up like bandits and robbers and a horse and covered them with about five Costco toilet paper packaged full of TP.  It was pretty great.  I didn’t stay for Thrice b/c I’m sure their set was the same, and had no real desire to watch them again. 

My Friday ended like it tends to do from time to time with a trip to Busby’s with my friends from Punk’d. Brandon and Jared M. went out to meet Josh, who bartends there a couple nights a week in between acting gigs.  Nothing too special about last night at all; just a good time with friends. 

I found out this week my cousin Melissa went and got herself pregnant.  Way to go and get knocked up.  Just kidding.  She’s married and her and her husband Jake were planning on starting to try to have a kid this summer, but apparently when they threw caution to the wind on their trip to Jamaica… well let’s just say first time’s the charm in this case.   Look out people, the first of the next generation of Mallick’s will be here in December and if he/she turns out anything like the rest of the family, he/she is going to be a total riot.  Congrats to them, they deserve it, those two crazy kids. 

Tonight is Oki’s birthday, so for a third night, I will be heading into the ‘hood.  Different venue though.  I plan on stopping by to give the birthday boy a big kick in the nuts and catch up with Joe Montalbano and a few others who will probably make an appearance, stay for a bit, then make my way back down to La Cita. Why? B/c I have nothing else to do. 

Monday I finally go back to work.  I am doing the pilot with Dakota, so wish me luck.  Should be fun. 

I want to leave you with one last piece of inspiration.  To quote the amazing unrivaled Anthony Green: 

Nothing you ever planned on turns out the way you planned.

Who Watches The Watchmen

Ladies and gentlemen, we’re entering week number five of unemployment.  But there’s a little beacon of hope on the horizon.  AJ called me Friday and Dakota has a project lasting a couple weeks I may be able to jump on.  I would only have to miss one day of work b/c I am going on Warped Tour with the Rad Girls. 

OH YEH! Guess what? The Rad Girls are going out to do a couple dates on this summer’s Warped Tour.  We’re gonna screw around with the fans all up and down the Golden State.  We are hitting up three spots in June and a couple more in August.  I’m really pumped b/c I get to shoot.  DVX in hand, I will follow around three hot ladies at one of the biggest, if not the biggest, summer music festival in the country.  I’m not really a huge fan of large concerts, and in fact haven’t had a desire to attend Warped Tour in a long time.  Yes, I am fan of a number of the bands who participate in the show, but I enjoy seeing the band up close and relish the intimacy of a smaller venue like the El Rey on Wilshire, or even a medium size venue such as the Avalon in Hollywood.  But hey, honestly, who can turn down a free trip to San Francisco with the Rad Girls?  I sure as hell couldn’t.

Memorial Day weekend has been going good so far.  Friday (b/c my weekend starts the same way each and every week) I had my mostly-weekly lunch at The Whaler with Devon.  It was interesting to say the least.  I met her brother David who was in town visiting.  He coaches a trampoline gymnastics team back in Ohio.  Really nice guy and it was good to meet another member of Devon’s clan.  I ran into Jackie who was having a quick cocktail before work started at Mercedes Grille.  I don’t want to dwell on the subject for any length of time, besides, those of you who know and care about the story already know it.  Anyway, it was good to see her. 

Friday night, the Hotel Staff and their respective women, sans my own, went and met Bruce for drinks up at The Daily Pint in Santa Monica.  Love that bar; great little spot right near MTV.  Bruce was my producer on Viva la Bam and my co-EP on Parental Control.  GT and his wide Jen came.  And Abby came to visit too.  And J-mar.  (Man, I keep forgetting people.)  Blitsch and her new man, Gabe, even made an appearance.  It was a lot of fun and good to get a couple of the old faces together. 

Saturday night, while I was waiting for Jessica Cohen to get back from dinner with her sister, I did a little video chat with a bunch of my buddies from back in Philly.  Todd and Jamie had a bunch of people over their house, so we caught up.  On the east coast side of things was CW and Alair, Bill and Marie, Kyle and his new girlfriend (which apparently we all found out at the same time they were dating, so even 3000 miles away I was in the loop on that gossip) and of course Todd and Jamie.  I gave them a quick little tour of my apartment since none of them have come to visit yet (jerks).  I was telling them about this really funny and ridiculous tattoo Johnny wants me to get on my back.  Todd wanted me to show the crowd back home where I was gonna get the tattoo, and mooned the whole room from the opposite coast.  It was brilliant. 

Todd wasn’t paying attention this morning, and he went to video chat with me at 9:30 AM Eastern Standard time, forgetting the three hour time difference, so my computer started ringing at 6:30 AM Pacific Time.  Lame.  I was like, you gotta be kidding me.  And the best part was he was only hitting me up to give me his rendition of Numa Numa.  What a total boner.  I would have killed him had I actually gotten out of bed to answer that call only to find out he was screwing with me. 

Jess Cohen was in town visiting from Ohio (was everyone from Ohio on vacation this week?) after her twin sister Lindsay and her returned from a trip to Israel.  Jess worked with me on Punk’d.  I ride my bike over to Lindsay’s place.  I beat the two of them there, but once they arrive we go inside, put on Purple Rain and the girls fall asleep.  Party animals.  After about an hour, I dipped out.  I hung out with Jess the day before for a bit, so I didn’t feel awful leaving them passed out on the sofa. 

Since I was wide awake, I decided to head downtown to see my buddy Brian who bartends at La Cita.  Great spot on a Saturday night.  Inside, Rachero music blasts from a band on a little makeshift stage and two hundred middle-aged Hispanics dance around while out back, on “El Patio,” the same eight people are always hanging out, is where I spent my night.  Brian tossing Tecate in my face all night, Tommy, the bar-back, cleaning up after me, and iPods playing old-school punk made for a very relaxing night. 

My weekend ended the same way it always does, with a trip to The Whaler. (I should just have my mail forwarded there I spend so much time at that place.)  My dear, old friend Nicole Havre made the trek down from Hollywood to join me.  I haven’t seen her in like a month.  I met Nicole while I was running around the western states doing Bull Run.  She was living in Phoenix working at a bar called Rula Bula.  Joe Child happened to driving across the country at the time to go back east for Bam’s Unholy Union and was in PHX.  Nicole answered a Craig’s List ad I had posted for PA’s, and she mentioned she was working that night, so me and the boy-toy wonder went and met her.  Long story short, we kept in touch, I told her to hit me up when she was moved to LA and I would help her get work.  She did, and a week after moving, she was a production assistant at MTV.  We had a great Sunday.  We walked back thru the canals, which she didn’t know existed, and capped off a good Sunday Funday. 

Later, James swung by for a night cap.  We hit up the Townhouse for a 16 ounce Boddinton’s Ale and met the staff of Hama Sushi.  So random. 

As for the rest of my “holiday,” I am going to hit up the gym, and then continue reading DMZ and see where the 2^nd Civil War is going next.  Obviously since I am back on DMZ, it means I finished reading Watchmen.  I must say, as a whole, it was a great graphic novel.  Now (SPOILER ALERT), unfortunately, the last chapter ruined the whole experience for me.  Up until that point it was one of the best books I have ever read, but all of a sudden there’s this giant alien destroying a city.  I mean, why not drop a bomb or something.  You have to suspend some believability through the whole book to believe in superheroes, but that instance just went too far.  I understand what the author was trying to do, and the character’s justification for using this plot device makes a ton of sense, but the author probably could have substituted anything else in there and it would have made a ton of more sense than a giant alien creature.  Maybe it’s just me.  Now, don’t get my wrong, I still like the book.  Great art, great story, I recommend anyone who enjoys reading to give it a once over, even if you’re not a fan of comic books.  It holds up and is worth the time it takes.

I think that is about it, I’m gonna finish watching 25^th Hour then hit up some Gold’s Gym action.

Hey Todd, don’t forget: three hours time difference.  You’re as bad as my mom.

I Like To Call Him Malik...

Hello folks.  So I’m going onto week three of unemployment and it’s starting to get a little old.  As much as I love having all the free time in the world to work out, play Mario Kart Wii, and read comic books (just started reading The Watchmen), I kinda would like to start having an income again.

The one major positive to the whole not-working is I finally had the time to shoot the inaugural episode of my podcast, Venice Music Project.  The VMP has musicians stopping by The Hotel to play a couple songs acoustic, then going out in Venice to show off any one of the awesome spots that make up Dogtown. 

My friends’ Rios and Shahram brought their band Capulet (www.myspace.com/capulet) to town and rocked it out last Saturday afternoon.  Colby came by to help out and brought a twelver of Stella with him, which by the time the band showed up (two hours late) he was a sixer deep.  And unfortunately, since I had no other help on the shoot, he got stuck holding the boom mic all afternoon.  All in all it was a good experience.  I don’t want to give away too much, so please go check out the video for yourself.  Here is the link to the MyspaceTV page:

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=33870663

It’s getting a great response so far.  In fact, I want to share with you all Dooner’s shining review (FYI: I called Dooner out in my first email b/c I assumed he would give me some bullshit like we tend to do to each other like “suck donkey balls you shit stain”, so hopefully that explains his response):

 

Now see...you HAD to call me out as the one who would write something non-PG, there-by forcing me to become the A-HOLE (sorry, Mrs. Mallick) everyone hates..."the guy who REPLIES TO ALL".

If you had NOT called me out, all I would have done was reply to JUST YOU saying something along the lines of: "Good stuff Malik (i know his name is Mallick people...I like to call him Malik, after the great Drexel Dragon/San Antonio Spur Malik Rose, OK?). Now, back to me complimenting him..."good stuff, Malik! way to start making it happen out there and keep up the good work!! I wish you all the best in your VMP endeavor...way to stop sucking".

My hope is by the end of the week to have at least a partial website up and running to host all of the videos.  Once that is done, I can officially put the podcast on iTunes.  Also, future episodes will be on Youtube (the running time on Ep. 1 was too long) and eventually on a myspace page of its own. 

Friday night I went down to Irvine to see Capulet play a show and they killed it.  It was a little benefit show at UC Irvine.  While I was there, I also booked a band to do Episode 2.  After the show, we all went out to this dive bar in Newport Beach called Goat Hill.  One hundred and forty-one beers on tap, and what do I get a pitcher of?  Pabst Blue Ribbon.  That’s right.  I got my Stella for Sundays, but my old friend PBR is always there ready to party every other night of the week.

This most recent Saturday I made my first excursion out to the Staples Center in downtown to do a publicity type photo shoot for the Los Angeles Avengers, the city’s arena football team.  I’ve never been into area football, but if that’s your thing, go for it.  I didn’t pay as close attention to the game as if I was just watching it, but from what I did catch, it seemed a little slow for my typical Philly Eagle weekends.  Fans did fill the seats, and cheered and screamed as loud as any obnoxious drunk I’ve seen line Broad Street, but for me, I didn’t feel the same die-hard, live-and-die-by-your-team feeling I experience not only in Philly, but also the little sweaty church called Sports Harbor I attend on Sunday to watch the games now living in California.  I haven’t gone through the pictures yet, but I’m a little nervous I didn’t get what I was looking for.  I was supposed to be getting shots of players in front of sponsor signs, and I got more wrapped up in getting great shots of plays being made than framing up the wall logos.  I’m gonna try to dive into that wading pool tomorrow and hope for the best. 

After the game, I made my way down to La Cita bar in downtown to hang out with one of my favorite bartenders Brian (don’t worry, Devon, you’re still #1), have a couple pints of Tecate, and bullshit about not having any money.  The owners were there hanging out, and we spent the night playing this card game called “Apples to Apples.”  I’m not very good at describing this game, but I’ll give it a shot.  Basically, there is one set of green cards with a description like “high and dry” on it, and players select one card from their hand, the red deck, which they feel has a object on it which best displays what “high and dry” means.  Now, like a rotating dealer in poker, there is a judge who is completely subjective and his decision to pick which red card wins can be based on reasons ranging in spectrum from the best literal definition, to the one that is the most random and makes him or her laugh the most.  First person to win seven cards wins the game.  Very entertaining and a lot of fun.  I must make it back to La Cita more often. 

Quickly, my prediction for the NBA playoffs:  LA vs. BOSTON, Boston humiliates the Lakers in five games.  That’ll teach Kobe Bryant to skip college.

If any of you guys out there are into taking risks on the good ol’ NASDAQ, or you just piddle around with a little Marvel stock like me, please check out Johnny’s new website www.stockmarketjunkies.com.  I’ll also have a link to it on the left there under “Links.” (If you’re reading this on myspace, go to mallickisking.blogspot.com to see the “Links” section of my blog.

That’s my post.  Please please PLEASE check out Venice Music Project.  Episode 2 is coming next month.  Shut your windows and lock all your doors.  Choke on this!