Tin Room San Diego set to open Dec. 6 in Hillcrest San ...
Tin Roof - Gaslamp - San Diego, CA - Yelp
TIN ROOF, San Diego - Gaslamp - Menu, Prices & Restaurant ...
Tin Roof Bar & Grill (San Diego) - 2020 All You Need to ...
San Diego Bar Live Music Tin Roof
Music San Diego Tin Roof
Tin Roof only has outdoor seating available so make sure to arrive early so you have a place to sit because we tried going on a Friday night around 9 and all the tables were full so the following Saturday night we made sure to get there as the sun was setting so we could score a place to sit. We did order food: a few tacos and a side of fries. The Tin Room has become a famous gay nightspot in Texas with its metal walls and large cast of underwear-only clad go go boys, a theme the owners say they will keep in San Diego at night. Throughout the last month, Bar Manager Joshua Simmons has been updating his social media page with videos apprising the public of progress being made inside ... Tin Roof, San Diego: See 17 unbiased reviews of Tin Roof, rated 4.5 of 5 on Tripadvisor and ranked #1,105 of 5,026 restaurants in San Diego. Bringing the best of Nashville to San Diego with our Hot Country Night! We are featuring our made from scratch Nashville Hot Chicken, Country Music & Moonshine Cocktails. Book a reservation and get a complimentary Moonshine Taster for the table! Tin Roof Bar & Grill, San Diego: Address, Phone Number, Tin Roof Bar & Grill Reviews: 4/5 Get Your Tin Roof Loyalty Card! Receive $5 credit back for every $50 in food purchases! Ask your server or bartender for the card and Thanks for Being a Regular! More Information. Better Than Bar Food. More Please. Book Your Party. Get it Started. A Live Music Joint. Contact Us. 401 G Street San Diego, CA 92101; W-Th 3pm-11pm, F-Sa 11am-11pm ...
San Diego Itinerary Review Request
2019.12.31 02:35 BostonSoccerDadSan Diego Itinerary Review Request
Hello San Diego friends, I will be visiting your city in May 2020 and looking for your expertise. I have already done homework about different things to do, etc. I am simply looking for your assistance to review my proposed itinerary and let me know if you see any opportunities for improvement. For example, if you see that I am planning on going to a specific tourist trap or bar and you think the place is not worth the time, please let me know - especially if you have an alternate recommendation. Here is some quick background about me and my trip that may be helpful. My daughter is graduating from CalArts (Santa Clarita) on Friday May 15th. My wife and remaining family cannot travel to California until Wednesday night. I have vacation time to use up and was able to get a good deal on a flight to San Diego (a city I have always wanted to visit). So I will be coming to town myself for a few days before driving up north to pickup my family at the airport. I will not have a car until I pick up a rental at the end of my stay, so planning on primarily walking around San Diego, UbeLyft, trolley, or scooter. OK - here is the general itinerary: Saturday May 9th: Flight lands ~7:30pm and I should be checking in to the hotel by 9-9:30pm. My hotel is on the edge of the GasLamp Quarter near Petco Pahk (yep, username checks out). If I am not too tired from the cross country flight and the fact my internal clock will be after midnight, then planning on looking for some live blues music and heading over to Patrick’s GasLamp Pub. I think Tin Roof has live music too, so that may be a good alternative. If not there… then I will be in search of a good whiskey selection and looks like The Whiskey House fits the bill. Sunday May 10th: Grab breakfast at Broken Yolk Cafe. Head over to Balboa Park and walk around. Check out Speckels Organ Pavilion around 2pm as I think there is typically a concert. Maybe head over to the AiSpace Museum or wherever my legs and curiosity take me. Check out Old Town In the evening head up to Belmont Park Monday May 11th: I am a member of Freedom Boat Club, so planning on taking out a boat in the morning for a few hours. Looks like the club is near SeaWorld. Afterwards head over to check out the USS Midway and then maybe catch a ferry to Coronado to look around. At night I hope to get a ticket to catch the Padres game. Tuesday May 12th: I will be leaving your beautiful city to head north. In the evening I plan to catch an Anaheim Angels game. Would you recommend heading up the 5 or the 15? If I take the 5, then I may stop at San Clemente Pier to explore. If I take the 15, I am thinking about checking out a vineyard like Lorimar Vineyards. Thanks for reading this far. I appreciate any feedback you may have - even if you think my itinerary looks lame. Happy New Year!
2019.11.05 15:15 MarleyEngvallpinball wizard has been created
By John Updike Pigeon Feathers (ii.) In the months that followed, his position changed little. School was some comfort. All those sexy, perfumed people, wisecracking, chewing gum, all of them doomed to die, and none of them noticing. In their company David felt that they would carry him along into the bright, cheap paradise reserved for them. In any crowd, the fear ebbed a little; he had reasoned that somewhere in the world there must exist a few people who believed what was necessary, and the larger the crowd, the greater the chance that he was near such a soul, within calling distance, if only he was not too ignorant, too ill-equipped to spot him. The sight of clergymen cheered him; whatever they themselves thought, their collars were still a sign that somewhere, at some time, someone had recognized that we cannot, cannot, submit to death. The sermon topics poured out- side the churches, the flip hurried pieties of disc jockeys, the cartoons in magazines showing angels or devils——on such scraps he kept alive the possibility of hope. For the rest, he tried to drown his hopelessness in clatter and jostle. The pinball machine at the luncheonette was a merciful distraction; as he bent over its buzzing, flashing board flippers and cushions, the weight and constriction in his chest lightened and loosened. He was grateful for all the time his father wasted in Olinger. Every delay postponed the moment when they must ride together down the dirt road into the heart of the dark farmland, where the only light was the kerosene lamp wait- ing on the dining room table, a light that made their food shadowy, scrabbled, sinister. He lost his appetite for reading. he was afraid of being ambushed again. In mystery novels people died like dolls being discarded; in science fiction enormities of space and time conspired to crush the humans; and even in P. G. Wodehouse he felt a hollowness, a turning away from reality that was implicitly bitter and became explicitly in the comic figures of futile clergymen. All gaiety seemed minced out on the skin of the void. All quiet hours seemed invitations to dread. School stopped. His father took the car in the opposite direction, to a construction job where he had been hired for the summer as a timekeeper, and David was stranded in the middle of acres of heat and greenery and blowing pollen and the strange, mechanical humming that lay invisibly in the weeds and alfalfa and dry orchard grass. For his fifteenth birthday his parents gave him, with jokes about his being a hillbilly now, a Remington .22. It was somewhat like a pinball machine to take it out to the old kiln in the woods, where they dumped their trash, and set up in tin cans on the kiln's sandstone shoulder and shoot them off one by one. He'd take the puppy, who had grown long legs and a rich coat of reddish fur——he was part chow. Copper hated the gun but loved David enough to accompany him. When the flat acrid crack rang out, he would race in terrified circles that would tighten and tighten until they brought him, shivering, against David's legs. Depending upon his mod, David would shoot again or drop to his knees and comfort the dog. Giving this comfort to a degree returned comfort to him. The dog's ears, laid flat against his skull in fear, were folded intricately, so——he groped for the concept——surely. Where the dull-studded collar made his fur stand up, each hair showed a root of soft white under the length, black-tipped, of the metal color that had given the dog its name. In his agitation Copper painted through nostrils that were elegant slits, like two healed cuts, or like the keyholes of a dainty lock of black, grained wood. His whole whorling, knotted, jointed body was a wealth of such embel- lishments many finely differentiated layers of earth: mulch, soil, sand, clay, and the glittering mineral base. But when he returned to the house, and saw the books arranged on the low shelves, fear returned. The four adamant volumes of Wells like four lin bricks, the green Plato that had puzzled him with its queer softness and tangled purity, the dead Galsworthy and "Elizabeth," Grandpa's mammoth dictionary, Grandpa's Bible, the Bible that he himself had received on becoming a member of the Firetown Lutheran Church——at the sight of these, the memory of his fear reawakened and came around him. He had grown stiff and stupid in its embrace. His parents tried to think of ways to entertain him. "David, I have a job for you to do," his mother said one evening at the table. "What?" "If you're going to take that tone perhaps we'd better not talk." "What tone? I didn't take any tone." "Your grandmother thinks there are too many pigeons in the barn." "Why?" David turned to look at his grandmother, but she sat there staring at the orange flame of the burning lamp with her usual expres- sion of bewilderment. Mother shouted, "Mom, he ants to know why?" Grandmom made a jerky, irritable motion with her bad hand, as if generating the force for utterance, and said, "They foul the furniture." "That's right," Mother said. "She's afraid for that old Olinger furniture that we'll never use. David, she's been after me for a month about those poor pigeons. She wants you to shoot them." "I don't want to kill anything especially," David said. Daddy said, "The kid's like you are, Elsie. He's too good for this world. Kill or be killed, that's my motto." His mother said loudly, "Mother, he doesn't want to do it." "Not?" The old lady's eyes distended as if in horror, and her claw descended slowly to her lap. "Oh, I'll do it, I'll do it tomorrow," David snapped, and a pleasant crisp taste entered his mouth with the decision. "And I had thought, when Boyer's men made the hay, it would be better if the barn doesn't look like a rookery," his mother added needlessly. A barn, in day, is a small night. The splinters of light between the day shingles pierce the high roof like stars, and the rafters and crossbeams and built-n ladders seem, until your eyes adjust, as mysterious as the branches of a haunted forest. David entered slightly, the gun in one hand. Copper whined desperately at the door, too frightened to come in with the gun yet unwilling to leave the boy. David stealthily turned, said, "Go away," shut the door on the dog, and slipped the bolt across. It was a door within a door; the double door for wagons and tractors was as high and wide as the face of a house. The smell of old straw scratched his sinuses. The red sofa, half hidden under its white-splotched tarpaulin, seemed assimilated into the smell, sunk in it, buried. The mouths of empty bins gaped like caves. Rusty oddments of farming——coils of baling wire, some spare tines for a har- row, and handleless shovel——hung on nails driven here and there in the thick wood. He stood stock-still a minute; it took a while to separate the cooing of the pigeons from the rustling in his ears. When he had focused on the cooing, it flooded the vast interior with its throaty, bubbling outpour: there seemed no other sound. They were up behind the beams. What light there was leaked through the shingles and the dirty glass windows at the far end and the small round holes , about as big as basketballs, high on the opposite stone side walls, under the ridge of the roof. A pigeon appeared in one of these holes, on the side toward the house. It flew in, with a battering of wings, from the outside, and waited there, silhouetted against its pinched bit of sky, preening and cooing in a throbbing, thrilled, tentative way. David tiptoed four steps to the side, rested his gun against the lowest rung of a ladder pegged between two upright beams, and lowered the gunsight into the bird's tiny, jauntily cocked head. The slap of the report seemed to come off the stone wall behind him, and the pigeon did not fall. Neither did it fly. Instead it stuck in the round hole, pirouetting rapidly and nodding its head as if in frantic agreement. David shot the bolt back and forth and had aimed again before the spent cartridge stopped jingling in the boards by his feet. He eased the tip of the sight a little lower, into the bird's breast, and took care to squeeze the trigger with perfect evenness. The slow contrac- tion of his hand, abruptly sprang the bullet; for a half second there was doubt, and then the pigeon fell like a handful of rags, skimming down the barn wall into the layer of straw that coated the floor of the mow on this side. Now others shook loose from the rafters, and whirled in the dim air with a great blurred hurtle of feathers and noise. They would go for the hole; he fixed the sights on the little moon of blue, and when a pigeon came to it, shot him as he was walking the ten inches or so of stone that would carry him into the open air. This pigeon lay down in that tunnel of stone, unable to fall either one way or the other, although he was alive enough to lift one wing and cloud the light. It would sink back, and he would suddenly lift it again, the feathers flaring. His body blocked that exit. David raced to the other side of the barn's main aisle, where a similar ladder was symmetrically placed, and rested his gun on the same rung. Three birds came together to this hole; he got one, and two got through. The rest resettled in the rafters. There was a shallow triangular space behind the crossbeams supporting the roof. It was here they roosted and hid. But either the space was too small, or they were curious, for now that his eyes were at home in the dusty gloom David could see little dabs of gray popping in and out. The cooing was shriller now; it apprehensive tremolo made the whole volume of air seem liquid. He noticed one little smudge of a head that was especially persistent in peeking out; he marked the place, and fixed his gun on it, and when the head appeared again, had his finger tightened in advance on the trigger. A parcel of fluff slipped off the beam and fell the barn's height onto a canvas covering some Olinger furniture, and where its head had peeked out there was a fresh prick of light in the shingles. Standing in the center of the floor, fully master now, disdaining to steady the barrel with anything but his arm, he killed two more that way. He felt like a beautiful avenger. Out of the shadowy ragged infinity of the vast barn roof these impudent things dared to thrust their heads, presuming to dirty its starred silence with their filthy timorous life, and he cut them off, tucked them back neatly into the silence. He had the sensations of a creator; these little smudges and flickers that he was clever to see and even cleverer to hit in the dim recesses of the rafters—— out of each of them he was making a full bird. A tiny peek, probe, dab of life, when he hit it, blossomed into a dead enemy, falling with good, final weight. The imperfection of the second pigeon he had shot, who was still lifting his wing now and then up in the round hole, nagged him. He put a new clip into the stock. Hugging the gun against his body, he climbed the ladder. The barrel sight scratched his ear; he had a sharp, bright vision, like a color slide, of shooting himself and being found tumbled on the barn floor among his prey. He locked his arm around the top rung—— a fragile, gnawed rod braced between uprights——and shot into the bird's body from a flat angle. The wing folded, but the impact did not, as he had hoped, push the bird out of the hole. He fired again, and again, and still the little body, lighter than air when alive, was too heavy to budge from its high grave. From up here he could see green trees and a brown corner of the house through the hole. Clammy with the cobwebs that gathered between the rungs, he pumped a full clip of eight bullets into the stubborn shadow, with no success. He climbed down, and was struck by the silence of the barn. The remaining pigeons must have escaped out the other hole. That was all right; he was tired of it. He stepped with his rifle into the light. His mother was coming to meet him, and it amused him to see her shy away from the carelessly held gun. "You took a chip out of the house," she said. "What were those last shots about?" "One of them died up in tat little round window and I was trying to shoot it down." "Copper's hiding behind the piano and won't come out. I had to leave him." "Well, don't blame me. I didn't want to shoot the poor devils." "Don't smirk. You look like your father. How many did you get?" "Six." She went into the barn, and he followed. She listened to the silence. Her hair was scraggly, perhaps from tussling with the dog. "I don't suppose the others will be back," she said wearily. "Indeed, I don't know why I let mother talk me into it. Their cooing was such a comforting noise." She began to gather up the dead birds. Though he didn't want to touch them, David went into the mow and picked up by its tepid, horny, coral-colored feet the first bird he had killed. Its wings unfolded disconcertingly, as if the creature had been held together by threads that now were slit. It did not weigh much. He retrieved the one on the other side of the barn; his mother got the three in the middle, and led the way across the road to the little southern slope of land that went down toward the foundations of the vanished tobacco shed. The ground was too steep to plant or mow; wild strawberries grew in the tangled grass. she put her burden down and said, "We'll have to bury them. The dog will go wild." He put his two down on her three; the slick feathers let the bodies slide liquidly on one another. He asked, "Shall I get you a shovel?" "Get it for yourself; you bury them. They're your kill," she said. "And be sure to make the hole deep enough so he won't dig them up." While he went to the tool shed for the shovel, she went into the house. Unlike her, she did not look up, either at the orchard to the right of her or at the meadow on her left, but instead held her head rigidly, tilted a little, as if listening to the ground. He dug the hole, in a spot where there were no strawberry plants, before he studied the pigeons. He had never seen a bird this close before. The feathers were more wonderful than dog's hair; for each filament was shaped within the shape of the feather, and the feathers in turn were trimmed to fit a pattern that followed without error across the bird's body. He lost himself in the geometrical tides as the feathers now broadened and stiffened to make an edge for flight, now softened and constricted to cup warmth around the mute flesh. And across the surface of the infinitely adjusted yet somehow effortless mechanics of the feathers played idle designs of color, no two alike, designs executed, it seemed, in a controlled rapture, with a joy that hung level in the air above and behind him. Yet these birds bred in the millions and were exterminated as pests. Into the fragrant, open earth he dropped one broadly banded in shades of slate blue, and on top of it another, mottled all over with rhythmic patterns of lilac and gray. The next was almost wholly white, yet with a salmon glaze at the throat. As he fitted the last two, still pliant, on the top, and stood up, crusty coverings were lifted from him, and with a feminine, slipping sensation along his nerves that seemed to give the air hands, he was robed in this certainty: that the God who had lavished such craft upon these worthless birds would not destroy His whole creation by refusing to let David live forever.
2018.07.16 09:00 OneWonderfulFishRetrospective Episode 155 - LIVE from The Tin Roof in San Diego 2015
Per our discussion, join us on a retrospective adventure as we look back at Harmontown episodes of yore. Twice a week, every Monday and Thursday morning at 12 AM PST, 3 AM EST, a thread will be posted where we will discuss a classic episode of Harmontown. This time around...
LIVE from The Tin Roof in San Diego 2015
Hot off of ComicCon, Harmontown summons harmenians to San Diego's Tin Roof for a night of drinking, rapping, dinosaurs, bananas and more. Watch the video at harmontown.com/live and become a member!
This regularly-updated guide helps navigate the breweries, bars, and bottle shops where you can begin discovering and enjoying amazing local beer in New Orleans' and all of Louisiana's vibrant scene. Aka: Nectar of the Gods in the Tropical Swamp!
How do you get around NOLA? If UbeLyft are out of your price range or it's too hot for Blue Bikes, the Streetcar runs all along St. Charles Avenue from Canal Street in the French Quarter and turns onto S. Carrolton Avenue until S. Claiborne Avenue. If you hop on, you'll get within walking distance of many of these breweries, bars, and bottle shops for $1.25 per ride or $3 for an unlimited day pass. There is also a bus system that goes all around the city, particularly Magazine Street and Esplanade Avenue, with the same pricing.
We recommend downloading the RTA 2.0 GoMobile app which shows these routes, allows you to purchase tickets in-app with credit card rather than carrying around coins, and even track approximately how close the nearest streetcabus is! Another fun way to get around and drink New Orleans Beer is via a tour such as NOLA Brew Bus or New Orleans Brewery Tours.
The Tammany Trace is an awesome 26 mile bike-beer railtrail on the North Shore of Lake Ponchartrain that goes through the historic and quaint towns of Covington, Abita Springs, and Mandeville with a few brewery stops (listed in the Louisiana Breweries section). Brooks Bike Shop has locations in Covington and Mandeville so you can rent at one end of the trail and drop off at the other. /NOLAbicycling!
*NOTE FOR HOMEBREWERS*: Brewstock is a fantastic homebrew shop on the edge of Uptown/Garden District for all your equipment, ingredient, and other supply needs!!
Oak St Brewery, Uptown. Newest in town as of August 2020, and the first brewery in Uptown/Carrolton (not including Pidgin Town, who brewed within Ale on Oak for a short period)! Launching with a well rounded list of crowlers including a hazy IPA, coffee stout, blonde, pale ale, and oatmeal stout, go pick up a 32 oz crowler to go. (taproom only)
All Relation, Central City. RIP :'( closed due to pandemic, may come back one day but brewers have got new jobs. From some of the makers of Other Half (heard of em?) and Southern Prohibition, this swanky speakeasy, retro design is one of the most unique you will ever visit, with beer that is sure to hop your socks off. Huge oat-lactose-hop heavy IPAs and hoppy fruited sours are the focus, but a 'vending machine stout' and excellent Mexican pilsner also round out their starting lineup. (distributes)
Zony Mash Beer Project, Broadmoor. In the historic Gem Theater (taking the place of Wayward Owl, who shut down in 2018)! Revamped with an artsy design, and theater stage restored to former glory to enable a variety of live entertainment to go along with refined traditional Belgian style beers and barrel aged sours. Named after the eclectic b-side album by the original New Orleans funk band, The Meters, this brewery is a special blend of culture and good beer. (distributes)
Brieux Carré, Marigny. A tiny hole-in-the-wall brewery steps off the famous Frenchmen Street, this funky, tasty, and widely experimental, but well grounded brewery is the beer scene's best representation of New Orleans. There's always something new and interesting, as well as something simple but well made, and a great vibe whether you're in for a second to grab a go-cup or enjoying the chill beer garden which occasionally features live comedy. (distributes)
Parleaux Beer Lab, Bywater. An experimental brewery pushing boundaries and trying a variety of flavor profiles and styles. They particularly excel at barrel aged farmhouses/fruited saisons, dry hopped lagers, and traditional pilsners. Out in a unique part of town, this small brewery has a lovely beer garden and an evident passion for creating beer. (distributes)
Courtyard, Lower Garden District. This nano-brewery has become a local legend, producing world class NEIPAs rivaling the big names, and lately expanding to mastering big stouts, belgian blondes, braggots, and even a few barrel aged sours. They also tap rare or exclusive small batch releases from large breweries around the country, as well as their favorite hometown San Diego breweries like Pure Project. Just reopened in a new location on Camp Street with much more room for barrel aging, can production late 2020, and a permanent kitchen soon. (taproom only)
Miel, Irish Channel. Miel means honey in French and Spanish, celebrating the French and Spanish crossover of New Orleans history. While their speciality is a wide variety of unique hefeweizens and yeasty belgian beers, their Nox belgian dark strong was an incredible beer and sets the tone for the refined, often european style that the beers here will follow. Their most unique offering is their series of sour candy infused cream ales, such as AK41, which uses Alvin Kamara's (Saints #41) favorite candy, Airheads Xtreme. Hey, it's worth a shot. (taproom only)
NOLA Brewing, Irish Channel. The first post-Katrina brewery to open in New Orleans in 2009. They have done a lot to build the New Orleans beer scene from the ground up, including generating interest and lobbying for changes in restrictive law. Their speciality is sours- Barrel aged, wild, etc, and you cannot miss them if you are a sour fan. Their occasional small batch IPA offerings are sometimes great as well, such as Moon Shoes. Their tap list is often very large and diverse. Inside, you will find a southern tavern vibe tap room with an excellent in-house restaurant, McClure's BBQ. Get the BBQ boudin balls, trust me. (distributes)
Urban South, Irish Channel. After introducing Holy Roller IPA in cans and taps around the city, this brewery ensured that any bar or store in New Orleans would have at least one solid, iconic beer. Their year round Coop'd Up tart farmhouse ale is unique and fantastic. In a warehouse in an industrial complex, this brewery has a subtle charm and consistently fun beer, as well as a small arcade. They often focus on experimenting with adjunct flavor variations of their flagships, such as their summer gose series with various fruit combinations, or their winter stout series based on their Ca Phe vietnamese coffee stout. Recently they've begun barrel aging sours, quads, stouts, and more. (distributes)
Port Orleans, Irish Channel. Founded by a former Saints player, this sports bar environment make this place a unique stop, especially with launch of their Gleason IPA, a regular offering that supports the Gleason foundation for ALS. They've stepped up their game in general, offering refreshing IPAs, stouts, and continuing to offer very drinkable fruited lagers. Long Island chain Avo Tacos now operates the restaurant. (distributes)
Second Line, Mid City. A New Orleans themed brewery, these guys don't have huge recognition yet. However, their flagship blood orange saison, A Saison Named Desire, is consistently tapped at famous music club The Maple Leaf and is a sign of more to come. (distributes)
Royal Brewery, New Orleans East. A literal mom-and-pop brewery, this couple is not too shabby. Don't underestimate the Thor's Hammered belgian strong ale (distributes)
Crescent City Brewhouse, French Quarter. A brewpub in the heart of the French Quarter, this excellent New Orleans-German fusion food tavern with live jazz has a simple 5 traditional beer offering. Their beer isn't anything to seek out, but it's been around since before the craft boom really pulled through, and is a fun place. The beer and food pair nicely. Order one with dinner, but don't go for the beer alone. (brewpub only)
Dixie, New Orleans East. This historic brewery opened in 1917 and had to close briefly for prohibition. Over the years, it has still been a classic light beer, but had to move to Wisconsin after Katrina. In 2020, it's finally reopened with a brand new facility and taproom that is essentially a museum of beer history, plus new brews such as a hazy IPA, cranberry belgian wit, and even milk stout beyond the classic light lager. (distributes)
Broad Street Cider & Mead, Broadmoor. Cider in New Orleans?! While the apple juice is imported from Michigan, this taproom represents a nice change of pace and adds some diversity to the growing craft scene. Their concoctions are every bit as exciting as craft beer, such as their motueka dry-hopped cider, gin botanical infused cider, and even mead. Not to mention, guest beer (and cider) taps. (taproom only)
Opening radar: Bywater Brewpub, a Viet-Cajun gastropub and brewery in the Bywater, and Pidgin Town Brewing presumably in Pidgin Town lol, who was operating some small batches and taps of belgian sours and sour stouts inside Ale on Oak but is now seeking their own space.
Parish, Broussard, LA. The legendary brewery that started the whole craft boom in Louisiana. Nationally famous for their Ghost In The Machine DIPA, people go nuts for all of their hops, such as Bloom, Nova Vert, and Attacus Atlas. Envie APA is available at most stores and taps, and is a solid entry level hazy. To offset the hopheads, they offer a Sips series of wine grape-infused berliner weisses and the absurdly good Rêve coffee stout. Look for their special bottled cellar series beers- Abbey Reserve Belgian Dark Strong, Grand Reserve Barleywine, and Imperial Reserve Stout, as well as the Shade series of Maple, Vanilla, or Rum infused barrel aged stouts. These guys are always a treat! (distributes)
Gnarly Barley, Hammond, LA. Credited with inventing the iconic Jucifer IPA, these guys fit a similar niche to Urban South. They've also been sought after for their Peanut Butter Korova Milk Porter. You can't go wrong with a Jucifer on tap. They've also begun an adjunct flavor variation program using their Catahoula Common lager base, allowing casual drinkers to experience the concept of experimentation in beer. (distributes)
Great Raft, Shreveport, LA. Up at the north tip of Louisiana, these guys are far but no slouch. One of my personal all-time, all-country favorite beers is their funky Oceans Between Us IPA with Brettanomyces yeast, available in classy bottles that are brewed experimentally with different hops every batch. Their Commotion APA is a perfect day drinking beer, and they are also one of first state legends to bring NEIPA hype with Grace & Grit DIPA. With great saisons, farmhouses, sours, barleywines, barrel aged porters, and even IPLs, their beer is quite special. (distributes)
Abita, Abita Springs, LA. (Tammany Trace) Yeah, yeah, Abita is the iconic Louisiana cheap beer brand. With a near-monopoly on beer in Louisiana festivals, bars, and stores for decades, Abita even distributes in stores nationally, and is mostly a premium brand at this point. However, Purple Haze is a unique and classic cheap beer, and Abita Springs is a magical little quaint town with a very cool Mystery House museum that's worth visiting. (distributes)
Crying Eagle, Lake Charles, LA. Newly taproom only in order to get their restaurant and wine/cocktail license, their saison is lightly hoppy and crisp, and great on a warm day. Hop Blooded is their signature IPA, with a dry finish and a slightly tropical nose. (taproom only)
Bayou Teche, Arnaudville, LA. A brewery that has distributed their LA31 Pale Ale nationally for quite some time, this brewery existed before local craft became such an industry. Dedicated to Acadian/Cajun tradition, they have live cajun music and their beers pay homage to French/Cajun heritage with farmhouses, saisons, and beers made with Louisiana honey. Also the first brewery in Louisiana to make a CBD infused "dank" IPA, Big Fatty. (distributes)
Old Rail, Mandeville, LA. (Tammany Trace) A brewpub run by an ex-Abita, ex-Terrapin brewer with a family history of brewing recipes. Their ESB is award-winning and their house NEIPA as well as gin and tonic gose are stellar. Good beer and good food. (taproom only)
Tin Roof, Baton Rouge, LA. In the state's capital, this brewery is the largest in the city, and consistently offers the award-winning juicy Voodoo Pale Ale. Always be on the lookout for their occasional special releases, such as Manchado mexican chocolate/coffee stout with orange peel and cinnamon, which was unreal, and cognac barrel aged saison. (distributes)
Rally Cap, Baton Rouge, LA. A baseball themed brewery that is the passion project of a homebrewer hoping to knock it out of the park with their hazy hop-centric batting order. (taproom only)
Cypress Coast, Baton Rouge, LA. Another brewery trying to catch the state's capital city up on craft beer. Their MoonPie/Coast Roast Coffee blonde stout collab with Brieux Carré was a good indicator of the daring, yet refined beer they plan to make. (taproom only)
Gilla, Gonzales, LA. A lil brewery affectionately named after the adorable monster. Ever heard of cloudberry? Well, they did a cloudberry berliner weisse, and it was awesome. Just opened and so far have done many NEIPAs, fruited sours, dessert stouts, and even a black IPA. (distributes)
Flying Tiger, Monroe, LA. Their style/artwork evokes images of air force military, primarily testing out the haze game "Juiciana series" with Final Resting Place DIPA, and Jucee pale ale with artwork styled after an Icee. Way up in north Lousiana, they haven't quite gotten distribution into New Orleans yet, but have made it down as close as Baton Rouge and are testing the waters. (distributes)
Chafunkta, Mandeville, LA. (Tammany Trace) A home-brew fanatic turned brewery brews a few beers in an industrial warehouse, which are occasionally on rotation at The Maple Leaf. (distributes)
Low Road, Hammond, LA. A small brewery just getting going, with occasional live music and dinner popups. Worth a stop when visiting Gnarly Barley also in Hammond. (taproom only)
Utility, Ruston, LA. Way up north near Shreveport, this brewpub is known for their pub ale and honey saison, and also makes wood-fired pizzas in-house. Not far from Flying Tiger, worth a stop at both if checking out north Louisiana. (taproom only)
Mudbug, Thibodaux, LA. Affectionately named after crawfish, this "real Cajun beer" brewery opened in 2011 but had a little blip. However, it is now back in action as of 2019 with a Cafe Au Lait coffee milk stout, King Cake golden ale, and blackberry belgian wit and a larger brewing system. Putting south-west of Nola Louisiana on the map. (distributes)
Huckleberry, Alexandria, LA. A small brewery in the heart of Louisiana that is notably a fan of tangerine and raspberry in their beers. Check it out if you're passing through! (distributes)
Southern Craft, Baton Rouge, LA. A small brewery in the state's capital trying to give Tin Roof some competition and companionship. They focus on a few flaghships such as their Swamp Sting ale made with Louisiana honey. So far distribution hasn't made it out of Baton Rouge yet. (distributes)
Southern Prohibition, Hattiesburg, MS. Ok, I cheated a little, this is a regional gulf south brewery but it's less than 2 hours from New Orleans and their beer is very prevalent and much loved here. Their somewhat elusive Paradise Lost DIPA is iconic, and their various NEIPA small batch releases can often be quite good too. They also collaborated with Courtyard here to make Luddite IPA. (distributes)
Opening radar: Rally Cap (IMMINENT), Istrouma Farms in Saint Gabriel who appear to be focused on locally harvested ingredients, Sawbriar in Lafayette who announced their plans several years ago but haven't seemed to open yet, Cajunboyz in LaPlace (Opened 2018 and closed 2019, sadly).
The Avenue Pub, Garden District. On USA Today's voter choice Best Beer Bars list, this dark, eclectic pub almost won 1st place and for good reason. Aside from excellent local taps, there's an ever-rotating list of Belgian, and other European international taps and cellared bottles as well as occasional tap takeovers of some of the best breweries in the country or even world, such as Hill Farmstead and Cantillon. Knowledgeable bar staff, excellent bar food (get the dump truck fries), and even a top notch whiskey bar on the upstairs balcony make this the best stop for any true beer fanatic. (top tier)
Cooter Brown's, Uptown. A funky New Orleans classic sports tavern right on the riverbend, the bar has expanded over the years to include a 'back bar' with consistently solid local and regional craft selections, as well as a few rare bottles including Hill Farmstead. The alligator sausage and fried green tomato poboy (Gator Mater) is also to die for, and they make some of the best burgers in town. Grab a rack of oysters or boudin balls during happy hour, a good pint, and watch the game for a great time. (top tier)
Ale on Oak, Uptown. A chill, classy, southern hole in the wall bar (NOW BREWPUB! MAKES THEIR OWN BEER! "Pidgin Town Brewing"), their tap list is nothing crazy, but consistently good and stocked with local beer and whatever decent brews are cycling nationally. Their chill courtyard connects sideways with next door neighbor Oak wine bar, which they also own. Solid af gastropub food is also available if you don't feel like eating at Jacques Imos down the street.
Junction, Bywater. Very solid local beer list and even some solid outside stuff, great burgers, and just a nice no frills vibe. More of a chill, locals area of New Orleans.
Wrong Iron, Mid City. Mega beergarden-bar-hangout by the Lafitte Greenway (bike road) from the same people as The Bulldog, listed below. Massive outdoor Texas-style place with decent beer and people who are absolutely wasted.
The Black Penny, French Quarter. Located at the back of the French Quarter, this dark, almost medival looking tavern is considered a "locals" place. While they only sell cans of beer, they always have an inspiring list of weird international beers and you'll have a chance to see some funky New Orleans people, off the beaten path.
R Bar, Marigny. A chill little bar just barely off the beaten path of Frenchmen Street. A decent selection of canned beer and a few local taps is always available, and for those who don't drink beer, a fantastic frozen pineapple mojito is available. A good escape from the madness of downtown sometimes without needing to go far from it.
The Bulldog, Garden District. On the hip, buzzing Magazine Street, this well known beer bar always has a large rotating tap list, including regular local offerings and occasional special releases. The food is good, people are always having fun, and there's a nice outdoor patio. On Wednesday nights, their pint glasses have funny sayings printed on them and you can take home as many as you buy beers. There's also a quieter version in Mid City, as well as a Baton Rouge location.
Bayou Beer Garden, Bywater. A German restaurant and biergarten with imported German beer on tap and in bottles. While not local beer, it is a unique spot for someone looking for different beer than you will find at an average bar or store here, and of course a must-visit during Oktoberfest. And killer food! Don't miss the traditional pork shank on Sundays.. Prost!
Bratz Y'all, Mid City. A classic beer garden hangout, with a few local staples and a variety of national taps. Casual, and enjoyable for a game (particularly LSU).
Tchoup Yard, Irish Channel. A beer garden or yard as one might say, this large, open, outdoor space has quickly become a regular hangout. Famous for their gigantic beer chalices, you'll consistently find the biggest damn Gleason IPA (percentage of proceeds towards the Gleason ALS foundation) in the city, and enjoy some corn hole or general good vibes with christmas lights and fun, drunk people. Craft beer selection is fairly limited, but the size alone and the fun environment make this a unique stop.
Saint Lawrence, French Quarter. Not a bad choice if downtown walking down Decatur. A couple ok local taps, and a fridge full of cans and bottles. Cool religious artwork and decent, if a tad expensive, Louisiana food.
Tiger Tavern, Gonzales, LA. If you're going to Baton Rouge area (1-1.5 hour drive from Nola generally), do not miss this outstanding beer selection, in a little divey bar full of LSU fans, which offers DRIVE-THROUGH DAQUIRIS! Hahah. An authentic experience.
Stein's Deli, Garden District. "The beer room" at this jewish-italian fusion deli has arguably the best selection in the city, with tons of local craft beer as well as belgian lambics, funky farmhouses, and rarities such as Jester King and Holy Mountain. A great spot to grab some solid food and some beer to go. (singles of anything)
504 Craft Beer Reserve, Mid City. A fantastically extensive and well organized beer selection with local and regionals, also offering taps to be drank on-site as a full bar. With comfy couches, knowledgeable and passionate staff, and location tucked into a neighborhood, this is a place for local beer nerds to hang out and even have a beer-share, as bringing cool beer acquired from around the country is encouraged. (singles of anything, growler fills)
Elio's Wine Warehouse, Uptown. The original go-to for uptown residents, their local craft selection is always extensive, and their wine and liquor selection is also extensive, for those who care. Just make sure to get in before 7 pm Monday through Saturday, tough hours. (growler fills)
Brady’s Wine Warehouse, French Quarter. Who says you can’t get good beer downtown? As good as any place, and a perfect stop for those visiting who don’t have a chance to explore much outside of downtown!
Broadway Convenience Store, Uptown. Right around the corner from Elio's but on the corner of Broadway Street, the owner runs a fairly standard convenience store operation but uses his fandom of craft beer to curate a decent selection regularly. BONUS: Open till midnight 7 days a week.
This list is updated periodically. Feel free to ask any questions, contribute any discussion, or otherwise express your thoughts. Message moderators if any updates are needed.
2017.08.03 02:32 JellyfistingThe story of how a FA spent $100,000 [warning: longest post ever written]
TL;DR 28 year old virgin spends a lonely 3 years travelling the world, becomes a wizard, gets laid with a random african girl, fucks escorts, discovers tinder and becomes a pro at it, wrecks his back, ends up back where he started minus $100,000, a job and a functioning back.
I’ve been meaning to type this up for a while now because I need to get it off my chest and I would have liked knowing this when I was younger. Sorry this is going to be LONG.
7 years ago I was an archetypical FA user, I think around then this subreddit started and I was there from day 1. Any one of those “tally up your points to see if you are a wizard” or “FA bingo”pictures I would max out.
If you want to know my stats I was 28 years old, worked a shit job at a corner printing place (like an off brand kinkos) didn’t have a single friend, hadn’t talked to anyone outside of work in 10 years, I failed high school, lived with my parents, depressed, addicted to video games & bullshit on the internet, lived in a shit-hole town in Australia. And of course social anxiety, VERY bad social anxiety.
Looks wise I started balding at 18, pointy face with no chin and a big nose, the worst kind of skinnyfat with a huge gut but skinny arms and legs, terrible posture. Though the one thing I ever had going for me was I was tall - 189cm.
Actually I had one other thing going for me, on my 21st birthday my parents had no idea what to buy me since I just sat in my room all day playing video games, so they bought me $1000 of shares in a couple of different investment banks (my family aren’t rich, they had just discovered investing themselves). I didn’t think much of it at the time but a month later I looked at it and now I had something like $1100. An extra $100 was a serious addition to my salary at the time and that sparked my interest.
Back then I was working in a god-awful sham-contracting call centre for next to no money but since I had nothing to spend my money on I put it all into investments. Later I was working at a warehouse for a little bit more. I ended up working at the printing place a few years later which was still an (Australian) minimum wage but it was full time hours and let me save a lot because I still didn’t have anything to spend money on except computer parts. So I was investing almost everything I earnt and obsessing over the results. I was never day trading or anything like that, probably 80% of my money was going to the same couple of banks. I thought I was saving up for a house.
I know the exact moment the idea of travelling came to me, I was reading the “other topics” section of an overclocking forum and somebody posted an incredibly vague question about world travel. Everyone had a good chuckle at this pipe dreaming guy and then a month later he posted more to say he had quit his job, bought a ticket to vietnam and had a vague itinerary. Then he was off and said check out my blog if you are interested.
I had no idea this was possible. One day this guy is on the same forum as me posting about CPU binning and ram timing, the next he was in vietnam with nothing but a backpack. I became obsessed with the idea of backpacking. From then on I was reading nothing but travel blogs, watching travel shows and reading guide books. My last year at home I didn’t even play games much anymore and stopped upgrading my PC.
Around this time the Australian dollar went crazy as well, now I had well over US$100,000 to play with. Of course the thought of leaving the house, let alone the country terrified me, I had bought some stuff off ebay and it was sitting in my room, my parents thought it was hilarious I had a backpack and travel gear and I only left my room to go to work. Until one day I just bought a ticket. I forget how I mustered the courage to do it, I think I had just read so much “follow your dreams & travel” stuff it was like taking the kool aid at that point. I was in a cold sweat when I clicked “purchase” and when I quit my job I had a genuine anxiety attack. Even thinking back to it now years later I get a feeling of panic.
So my first time sleeping outside of my parents house I was on a plane to the other side of the world, first stop was Santa Monica, California. The plane ride over and my first few days was terrifying, I was in a constant state of anxiety, from getting from the airport to the hostel, sleeping in a room with 6 other people, doing all the touristy things in LA, getting a meal 3 times a day. I was terrified but exhilarated at the same time, and sometimes even enjoying myself. Even doing the simplest thing was an adventure for me.
One of the smartest things I did was book bus tour that started a few days after I arrived, it left from san francisco and took 14 days touring around the big national parks in the western states. It was with a company called green tortoise, the entire bus basically converts into a giant bed and you all sleep together in a “cuddle puddle”. Obviously my anxiety was in hyper drive but I had already paid the money and there was no getting out of it once it started. Thankfully everyone was really nice and we had great weather, the things we saw were absolutely stunning, I was 4 days in and this was already the highlight of my life. We did a lot of hiking, almost every day, and I was struggling to keep up but loving every second of it. Even during the tour I felt myself becoming fitter and losing weight. Surviving this trip and having everyone think I was just a normal but quiet guy was a huge confidence boost to me.
Once back in san francisco I bought an unlimited greyhound ticket and started a giant loop around the USA Portland>Seattle>San Juan>Vancouver>Banff>Bunch of random canadian cities>Chicago>Niagra>New York>DC>Atlanta>Dallas>Phoenix>San Diego. I was hiking wherever possible, doing touristy things and just enjoying seeing the places I had read about in books or seen on TV. I rarely talked to anyone during this time, sure when I got to a new hostel I would meet someone in the dorm and have the same conversation every time - where are you from? Where have you been? Where are you going next? But I never teamed up with someone to visit a place or even go out to dinner or out to drink with anyone. Yes it was lonely but I was doing so much I barely noticed or cared.
In 3 months I had travelled around the US and ended up almost back where I started, my last day was in San Diego and at this point I was well in my comfort zone sleeping in hostels, taking busses, eating out alone, I was even fine with chatting to people in hostels. But the anxiety was creeping back because I had to leave the US to mexico.
At the last minute I booked a spot on another green tortoise tour that travelled down through baja california (another great bunch of people) and instead of taking the bus back I got them to drop me off in a little village on the coast. Again I was filled with anxiety, I stayed in that town for almost a week because I was scared of going to the bus station and buying a ticket when I knew no spanish.
Anyway I finally managed to get a ticket (it was easy...) and ended up in la paz which is a sizeable town and I booked myself in for a month of spanish lessons there. It was something new waking up in the same place every morning, and every day doing the same thing and talking to the same people. The ages at this place skewed pretty old and I was one of the youngest there, again everyone got on fantastically and we would often go out to eat together, practice spanish and do some excursions with the school. I’m not the smartest person and I really struggled learning spanish, after one month I was nowhere near having any sort of conversation but I could ask for a room / meal / bus and I had the foundations for learning the basics.
One of the people at the school was solo sailing and invited me on his boat, we spent a week sailing around the sea of cortez before parting ways at mazatlan. This was the sort of adventure I had spent so much time reading about on the internet! We saw a ton of whales, dolphins, seals, stuff i’m probably forgetting. After mazatlan I spent a few months working my way through mexico, doing every touristy thing I came across, I wasn’t terrified like at the start but everything felt like a chore with the language barrier. The hostel scene was a lot different to the US, I was meeting way more people and we would often eat and do things together, because doing things alone can be a bit daunting in mexico. I even went out drinking with people a few times (and bailed early each time). I remember one fantastic hostel on a beach where everyone just hung out and got stoned on the balcony. I stayed there a week and knew everybody by the end of it, I remember when I left I had to do the rounds and say goodbye to everyone and a couple of the girls hugged me, that was a first.
The period coming up I think of as “the friend zones” It’s funny because it started the day I got to central america and finished the day I left it. Doing things alone is even more daunting in central america than mexico and even more so if you are a girl, so they are often looking for someone to team up with - cue the big guy who can sort of get by in spanish. I spent almost a year in central america (including a stint in Cuba) and for a lot of the time I was teaming up with some girl i had just met, I can think of 6 but I think there are a couple I have forgotten. We would do everything together for a couple of days, weeks or a couple of months for the longest. Even sleeping in the same bed a few times to save money (!).
I never made a move on any of these girls and it kills me to think what would have happened if i did. To keep myself sane I remind myself at this point I had no idea how to make a move on a girl and had even less of an idea what to do after. But even to come this far was impressive, from not talking to a single person outside of work in 10 years I was making friends, occasionally going out drinking and confidently travelling through some of the most dangerous countries in the world.
I stopped in Xela, Guatemala for more spanish lessons and after this I was improving a lot as they were more intensive lessons and I had been learning on my own. Now I was having small conversations with people in spanish and had absolutely no problems getting around - my comfort zone had grown again.
The next stage in the journey is south america, by now I was pretty weary of doing typical touristy things, though I still ended up doing all the popular ones just to say I had and to get a photo there. Instead I was going off the beaten trail as much as possible and trying to get myself into “adventures”. Also a lot of hiking, now I was doing huge multi day hikes, up to 2 weeks long, at altitude, in the freezing cold, heat, whatever. Obviously I was getting very fit.
While in South America I rarely talked to anyone, I was staying in guesthouses when possible or in random hotels in the middle of nowhere. I honestly can’t think of a single time I teamed up with someone for even a day. No playing bodyguard for random girls either because I was taking such an odd route and going to remote / sketchy places. I was still keeping up with my social skills though - the same chats with people when I stayed in hostels, meeting some fellow lonely hiker was always a good chat, sometimes at breakfast at a guesthouse. I was definitely conversational in spanish at this point, chatting to a lot of locals and often spanish tourists we would discover my spanish was better than their english. I even had to translate for lost gringos at hotels and bus stations a few times.
My route was completely crazy I went from Colombia>Venezuela>Colombia>Ecuador>Peru>Chile>Argentina>Paraguay>Bolivia>Chile>Peru>Brazil and it took well over a year. Hiking dictated where I went and when, I wanted to do all the big famous hikes and as many crazy unknown ones as possible.
The happiest I have ever been in my life was at this point, doing some insane week long hike by myself and not meeting a single person, standing by myself on top of a mountain, setting up camp in some beautiful valley with not a person around for miles, reaching a mountain pass and having a new view open up after hours of slogging uphill. Being this happy was not something I ever thought possible, I could feel the happy chemicals sloshing around in my head. At some incredible view I would involuntarily dance a jig or laugh like a maniac. At times like these I would think I was the luckiest person in the world, and at that exact moment in time who is to say I wasn’t?
Around this time I turned 30 and became a full fledged wizard, I’m not going to lie - it stung a bit, one of the main reasons I left home in the first place was to try and get laid, and here I was in south america, it was meant to be easy here right??? Fact of the matter is I wasn’t trying because I didn’t even know how to, I didn’t know how to learn and making any sort of baby step in that direction terrified me. As far as I had come in regards to my social anxiety I was still completely cut off from that world. Everyone here knows the feeling.
So my pan-american overland trip was coming to an end, it had taken almost 3 years and I hadn’t come close to spending even half of my money. Obviously I was being very frugal. I didn’t want to go back home so I went back to studying guide books and reading blogs etc, I decided the next best big adventure would be a pan-african overland trip. I booked a ticket to Johannesburg and a couple of weeks later I was in Africa.
I’ll save writing too much about this, it was basically more of the same. Less hiking though, more crazy situations & adventures. Meeting more people because in a lot of places you see another white person it is almost an obligation to have a chat, and teaming up can be really beneficial. But also there were huge periods where I never even saw another tourist, those were my favourite times.
By this stage my confidence was off the charts, there was not a single (travel related) situation I could find myself in that would even produce the smallest amount of anxiety.
OK. The ridiculous story about how I lost my virginity.
I arrived at a random hotel in Nairobi, I was avoiding hostels in Africa but I couldn’t find anywhere particularly cheap and in a good location in Nairobi so i ended up at a hostel. When I arrived everyone in the hostel was preparing to go out, it would often happen this way - I was in the right place but not quite at the right time. I was starving so I order a meal, set up my laptop and watch the proceedings. As everyone is sorting themselves out an african girl appears, honestly she was fucking stunning, done up to the nines, with one of the most ridiculous bodies I have ever seen, a real life barbie doll. She is hanging off one of the guys in the group and he doesn’t know what to do, just standing there looking like he wants to be somewhere else, I curse my luck, get my hamburger and they all leave. Now you know why I avoid hostels. I jerked off in the shower thinking about her that night…. They all come back and there is some big drama, caused by her no doubt. I still don’t know what it was about. Everyone left the next day, some were already leaving and I think a couple left because of the drama.
The next night it was literally just me and her at the hostel. Fantastic, more jerk off material for me. I get back to the hostel after a big day sightseeing and set up with my laptop in the common room, she comes in to watch a telenovela. After a long awkward silence we talk about something, I can’t remember what. Anyway after a while we plan for the next day to go to the museum and the nairobi national park. Easy peasy for me, this is pretty common stuff at this point.
It was a nice day, we chat easily and we get on well, but then I get on well with everybody. At the end of the day we jump in a taxi and she suggests we should go out to a bar. I say OK and we head off. I get in the front seat of the taxi and she sits behind and gives me a massage. Looks like I finally ended up in the right place at the right time. We had a blast, both got pretty tipsy but not full on drunk and my first kiss was outside some random nairobi bar. A couple of hours later we ended up fucking in the empty dorm. It wasn’t super awkward - but awkward all the same - but then that could be explained away by the different cultures and the fact we were inebriated and banging in a bunk bed. Woke up and did it again in the morning,
This was 5 days before my 32nd birthday, a good run but I was glad to break the streak.
We hang out for a couple more days, more people came to the hostel so that curtailed our “romance” we did bang in the shower I had been jerking off in whilst thinking about her just a few days earlier, which i still think is impressive in a fucked up way.
She is from Uganda and is going back there, she offers for me to come back with her and I say OK. She says she owns a couple of properties there and we can stay as long as we want… Sounded very strange to me, note she is 23 years old and kinda immature and a lot of the things she says don’t add up but I can’t turn this down because history says this will probably never happen again. The next day we are on a bus to Kampala, the fucking crazy capital of Uganda.
It’s true she has a house here, and some connection to another one. We settle in, fucking twice a day at a minimum which is fine by me. Something that I hadn’t realised before is that she was a huge partier, almost every night we are going out to eat and then ending up at a club or bar. Can you imagine the guy at the start of this story as the only white guy in some tin shed club in a Kampala ghetto not giving a shit about anything? Shisha is a big thing there and I take to it like a fish in water, instead of dancing I can just chill and smoke. I also started smoking cigarettes, the fact I could excuse myself from any situation, walk outside and chill the fuck out for 10 minutes was like a revelation to an introvert like me.
I stayed there 3 months. The longer I stayed the more I came to realise this girl was crazy, to the point of being mentally ill in some ways. I don’t want to play armchair psychiatrist but if she was diagnosed with a narcissistic personality disorder it would be incredibly unsurprising to me. The only reason I was there is because she couldn’t stand to be alone and fetishised white guys. I read her emails one day and she is talking to an old swiss guy she refers to as her husband, not sure if she was joking or not (she would sometimes jokingly refer to me as her husband) but they are romantically involved somehow. I gather that he bought the houses in her name and that he is coming back in a couple of weeks. The next day she makes up some nonsense about why i have to leave in a couple of weeks. I’m overstaying my visa at this point so I say OK, leave the country and after a few scattered emails never talk to her again. I feel sorry for that guy, he was going to get fleeced hard.
I look back on that escapade and really have no idea what to think about it, it was a pretty pathetic, sad and weird but also awesome in a nihilistic, degenerate way. The funniest thing was I was getting used for sex and companionship. She couldn’t have found anyone more desperate to give it away.
So I am walking out of that chapter a different person than the one who walked in. My confidence and worldliness in a lot of things has grown, not just sex. Also during this time I developed a mental trick where I “manually override” my brain, and just put one foot in front of the other to walk myself into any crazy situation. And there were some really crazy moments in those 3 months, if any normie wants to trade stories about crazy benders I have something that can challenge the best of them.
I head back to Kenya and finish up my overland Africa trip a few months later. This last part was the most beautiful and adventurous and my confidence was sky high, nothing could phase me. I travelled through northern Kenya, Ethiopia, Sudan and Egypt barely even looking at a guide book.
I make it to Europe and I decide to continue travelling, I don’t know what else to do any more. It is my day to day life and has been for years. The path of least resistance is just getting a bus to the next town, whereas going home would require some effort.
I felt like I should see Europe so I headed off in a clockwise direction similar to how i visited the USA and a lot of other things feel very similar, I’m staying in hostels and not talking to anybody again, doing the typical tourist things, blending into every crowd.
One thing I did very differently in Europe... I never wanted to lose my virginity to a prostitute because it seemed so pathetic to me (which is a dumb thing to think btw, here is a tip: If you are losing your virginity over 30 it is going to be pathetic by default, look how I lost mine) but it didn’t matter anymore because hey, I’m not a virgin. Long story short I fucked a shitload of prostitutes in Europe. Red light district in Amsterdam (shit) 2 FKK clubs in Germany (weird, but fun) a street walker in Spain (OK) brothel in Paris (great) about 8 different escorts in Budapest (FUCKING INCREDIBLE) 2 escorts in Prague (almost as good as budapest) some others I think I am forgetting. This was so much fun I can’t believe I didn’t do it sooner, yes there were some misses but when it was good it was really REALLY good and for me there aren’t many better ways to spend money.
Even with the fun I was having with escorts I was getting depressed, this was a first since I was away. I could almost escape it by getting on a bus and changing cities but it never took long for it to settle back in. Same cities, museums, art galleries, castles, dorms filled with US college students, cheap restaurants... Looking back on it sightseeing in Europe was a waste of money, there was no adventure, I didn't feel like a badass and I could just be depressed at home for free.
It’s amazing to think back on now, but during this time I was actually approaching my peak, the undisputed highest point in my life. And the catalyst for this peak?
I had been hearing about tinder in dorm rooms whilst travelling across Europe. On more than one occasion I had been sitting in my bunk listening to people chat about who they were swiping on tinder, the dates they had been on and the ones they are planning. Tinder was hitting peak popularity at this point.
I made a profile just to see if anyone would possibly swipe right on me, in a strange city (Budapest at the time) nobody would recognise me, no harm in trying I thought.
I should point out a few things - I had become interested in photography in the last couple of years and had a decent intermediate setup and pretty good knowledge on how to use it and make a great photo, I was VERY fit at this point, flat stomach with slight abs, I actually had shoulders (with traps!) now, actually had a chest, I was standing straighter, shaving my head (I’m balding very badly at this point) I didn’t have many clothes but what I had was really nice and fit me perfectly, I had a zillion pictures of me doing interesting things, I had CONFIDENCE.
I honestly thought my profile was pretty shit. I took a picture of myself in the antique mirror of my airbnb, a mirror selfie but the lighting and framing was absolutely perfect, I took it 50 times (no exaggeration) to make sure my pose and expression was perfect. It was the best photo of me that will ever be taken. Then I sorted through some travel photos to include, one of me at machu picchu, one of me on top of a mountain with an ice pick slung over each shoulder, one with me riding on the rear bumper of a truck laughing with 30 African dudes, one of me in an abandoned power plant. All of them I subtly edited, just the curves, colour grading etc but they all looked very professional.
The matches started rolling in, I was impressed at how realistic all these bots seemed, I had read online that all people matched with were bots and had no reason to believe I would be any different. Some started talking to me and I tentatively talked back, still not sure if they were bots or not. I was lucky a couple of younger girls matched with me and started talking to begin with, we had long ass conversations that went on for days, full of flirting and banter, I never met up with either of those 2 but it set the tone for the rest of my messages.
I know people on here don’t like to hear success stories so I will try and keep it brief. And Tinder was a huge fucking success. I treated it like a full time job, I was sending out messages constantly, I had always casually read pickup and sex tips type stuff just to see how the other half lived but now I was studying it like I was cramming for an exam, anything good I would bookmark and read over and over and over. I don’t think I even needed it, I was so confident chatting to people at this point, and with the implication of meeting on tinder I barely even had to make a move. My first couple of dates I was way too passive but the girls just invited themselves back to my apartment…. After that my confidence went through the fucking roof.
I’m chad now. I send out messages just straight up busting balls, if a chat gets too “boring” and we talk about the weather, jobs, places we have travelled etc I just unmatch. I only stick with girls who want to play the banteflirting game. I had numerous girls tell me we were having the best tinder conversation ever. I posted my profile up on /soc/ and /tinder and people tell me there isn’t a thing I could do to improve it.
I set tinder to only match with girls aged 18-25 as they are most likely to be looking for a fling. I get a zillion fucking matches. I’m travelling around eastern europe at this point and it is exactly how you would imagine, I’m punching well above my weight class but not just with locals, in fact my most impressive notches were US college girls. Most encounters were a week - one month long fling, but a few one night stands as well.
I honestly believe that when you consider where I started, this was like a normal person fucking super models.
You can imagine how I spent the next year, I travel further and further east, and the further east I go the more tourists I hook up with and less locals. Until I get to Asia where it’s 100% tourists and ex-pats (local girls were weird). I was almost always renting airbnb full apartments at this stage so I have a place to bring dates back to.
Along the way I learn a bit of Russian, but it is way harder than Spanish and I don’t get far. I come close to falling in love a couple of times. And on some random train in kazakhstan I pick up my bag the wrong way and royally fucked up my back (I think it may have been deteriorating for years and this was the straw that broke the camel's back). I had planned to travel through central Asia, visit every country ending in -stan, and do every crazy hike in the himalayas, ending in india where I would chill on the beach. I did manage one hike in Kyrgyzstan but it was miserable, I couldn’t enjoy myself I was in too much pain. I head back to russia and do the trans-siberian in the middle of winter. I end up in japan and travel south, all I can do is use tinder now because doing pretty much anything causes me pain.
The last country i visited was Myanmar and I loved it, perfect end to the trip. I fly home from Bangkok. My mum is crying her eyes out, I never saw my family in the 7 years I was gone. After a couple of weeks of meeting family members I hadn’t seen in years I settle into being 35 years old, unemployed, no friends, living with my parents, getting fatter every day with no hope for the future. It’s been well over 6 months I have been home and I don’t fit into my travelling clothes any more, not even close. I don’t know how I will ever have a job again.
I learnt a lot in those 7 years. None of it actually useful. I changed a lot as well but it’s hard to say if the new me is objectively any better than the old one.
I don’t keep in contact with anyone I met up with. It’s kind of impressive really, I talked to thousands of people, shared incredible moments with hundreds and I didn’t make a single friend. What does that say about me?
I’m back to spending all day and night on the fucking internet but I have become a lot less reliant on it in forming my views and feelings. I’m more cynical and better at spotting bullshit, just about everything I read I take with a grain (or 10,000) of salt. I see how every picture is edited to the point of unreality because I have seen a lot of it with my own eyes. There is nothing like doing something with someone and reading their blog post about it afterwards, not that they lie, but the artistic flourishes, exaggerations and omissions which make everything sound magical, like almost every post on reddit. Shit I probably did it enough times myself in this post.
I think the biggest fuckup I made was doing it all at once, the reason I was so happy when I was travelling was I always had something to look forward to, I could have made that money last for DECADES by alternating one year off, one year working etc. And I always would have had something to look forward to. Now I’m stuck with nothing and it feels like I’m being mocked by my own memories sometimes.
That’s the most I have typed in my life. I hope someone learnt something from this post! You can see there are other ways to live this FA life.
2017.05.29 00:50 elbalzacPearl Jam - 07/10/1998 - San Diego, CA (Mix: CCM4 + MK5)
Download Pearl Jam July 10, 1998 Cox Arena San Diego, CA 2 source mix: [Schoeps CCM4->Aerco->SBM-1->Sony TCD-D8 (right lower lodge, FOB)->DAT(1)->CDR(1)->FLAC->.wav] + [Schoeps MK5(card)->R-mod->SBM-1->Sony TCD-D8 (right lower lodge, FOB)->DAT(M)->CDR(2)->FLAC->.wav] => FLAC Disc I 01 Long Road 02 Corduroy 03 Last Exit 04 Brain of J 05 Do the Evolution 06 Given to Fly 07 In Hiding 08 Rearviewmirror 09 Immortality 10 Wishlist 11 Nothingman 12 Spin the Black Circle 13 Even Flow 14 Daughte(Roam) 15 MFC Disc II 01 Alive 02 Hail Hail encore 1: 03 Jeremy 04 Go 05 Lukin 06 Better Man 07 Leaving Here 08 Black 09 Rockin' in the Free World encore 2: 10 Yellow Ledbetter Notes: There is one very minor right channel dropout at the end of Long Road and one stereo->mono shift in RVM where a right channel dropout was patched with the left channel. Tiny venue, poor sound, GREAT crowd, very ON performance with a few rough spots. 'Corduroy' features a completely different intro, starting out with just guitar and then the drums build in. Ed skips the first verse of 'RVM' and repeats the second twice, and the second go round is excellent and the jam goes way out and comes back hard! Not a lot of chat, until before 'Immortality' Ed says, "hometown boy, Matt Cameron." 'Wishlist' lyric changes: Ed sings "as fortunate as YOU" and instead of "I wish I was the evidence, I wish I was the grounds," he says "sound." At the end, he sings, "I wish I was a mountain, wishes can come true, I wish I wish I wish I wish ... if you ever want to, do ..." (San Diego WAS where the original PJ lyrics were written.) 'Even Flow' is humorously flubbed--he goes into the chorus too soon but catches himself, and Mike's wicked solo is reeled back eventually by Stone, with Ed noting, "that's Mike over there." 'Roam' is a B52s cover, with Ed noting is as "... one of the deepest secrets they've hidden in their songs besides 'tin roof, rusted'" ;) . 'MFC' is introduced with, "If you gotta get out, get a small car." During 'RitFW,' he goes off on a sarcastic political rant about how he's glad our politicians are out there protecting us from flag burning ... no need to focus on problems like sewage being poured into the oceans because we've got flag burners to deal with. Classic Ed intensity. Mike dedicates 'Yellow Ledbetter' to his dad. (from fivehorizons.com) Thanks to cps for tracking down both sources. mix by BLG compiled on 07-25-05
2017.05.28 23:48 elbalzacPearl Jam - 07/10/1998 - San Diego, CA (AKG460b + CK63)
Download Pearl Jam Cox Arena San Diego, CA 07.10.1998 Source: AKG460b + CK63 > Beyer pre-amp > Sony TCD-D8 > DAT (4th Row, right) Transfer: DAT-C > Archive Python DDS Drive > DAT2WAV 1.2 > WAV Conversion: WAV > Adobe Audition 1.0 (48KHz -> 44.1KHz, Fade In/Out) > CDWav > FLAC ** THIS IS A ZERO-DAE SEED ** ** DO NOT EXTRACT FROM AUDIO CD ** ** PRESERVE THE ORIGINAL FLAC FILES ** ** DO NOT CONVERT TO MP3 **
Disc 1: [71:51.50]
Long Road [5:51.33]
Last Exit [2:37.21]
Brain of J [2:50.72]
Do the Evolution [3:50.07]
Given to Fly [4:07.69]
In Hiding [5:15.70]
Spin the Black Circle [2:54.33]
Even Flow [5:24.11]
"Beer and the B-52s" [1:26.49]
Disc 2: [52:28.73]
Hail, Hail [7:36.28]
Encore Break 1 [0:23.63]
"A Suburban Tale" [0:20.72]
Better Man [4:29.09]
Leaving Here [2:55.63]
Rockin' in the Free World [8:13.15]
Encore Break 2 [0:22.29]
Yellow Ledbetter [6:04.30]
Taper adjusted levels a little in the beginning of the show, and then a few songs in. There is some clipping in the first few songs, but it's not audible. Perfect extraction. The only edits performed were a fade in at the beginning, fade out/in at encore 2 when the taper paused his DAT, and fade out at the end of the show. There are no fades between disc 1 and disc 2, so if you are somehow able to get the full first set onto a disc, it will still be seamless. This seed is being distributed with this text file, a set of FLAC fingerprints, a set of MD5 sums for the extracted WAV files, and the SHNTOOL reports.
Show Notes (from 5h)
Tiny venue, poor sound, GREAT crowd, very ON performance with a few rough spots. 'Corduroy' features a completely different intro, starting out with just guitar and then the drums build in. Ed skips the first verse of 'RVM' and repeats the second twice, and the second go round is excellent and the jam goes way out and comes back hard! Not a lot of chat, until before 'Immortality' Ed says, "hometown boy, Matt Cameron." 'Wishlist' lyric changes: Ed sings "as fortunate as YOU" and instead of "I wish I was the evidence, I wish I was the grounds," he says "sound." At the end, he sings, "I wish I was a mountain, wishes can come true, I wish I wish I wish I wish ... if you ever want to, do ..." (San Diego WAS where the original PJ lyrics were written.) 'Even Flow' is humorously flubbed--he goes into the chorus too soon but catches himself, and Mike's wicked solo is reeled back eventually by Stone, with Ed noting, "that's Mike over there." 'Roam' is a B52s cover, with Ed noting is as "... one of the deepest secrets they've hidden in their songs besides 'tin roof, rusted'" ;). 'MFC' is introduced with, "If you gotta get out, get a small car." During 'RitFW,' he goes off on a sarcastic political rant about how he's glad our politicians are out there protecting us from flag burning ... no need to focus on problems like sewage being poured into the oceans because we've got flag burners to deal with. Classic Ed intensity. Mike dedicates 'Yellow Ledbetter' to his dad. Transferred, converted, and text compiled by Dan Leehr ([email protected]) on 05/23/04.
La'aloa beach. White sand, a tropical sea, perfect weather. He knows a lot of the people on the beach. They mingle with faces he doesn't know. But at least everyone's local. No damn tourists. Such a beautiful day, he thinks. And he's been waiting. No idea how long. Like time is stuck. Sometimes his watch beeps. But it's broken. When he looks at it he can't tell what time it. When it stops, a glow of approaching euphoria slips over him. His body sags, warm and content. So sleepy. He closes his eyes and can hear the soft hiss of waves kissing the beach. Trade winds rustle through palm trees above. "Hey." He looks out the window and sees her. Zoe. His daughter. His life. A sweet relief like washes through him. Tears come to his eyes but he blinks them away and gives her the same cocky smile she grew up with. "Hey," he nods. "Girl, what took you so long?" "Me?" she asks innocently. Same laughing eyes she had as a baby. Dark brown, full of sunlight and mischief. "Dad, I've been waiting for you." "Well hell girl, get in," he says. "Been too long." Zoe shakes her head. She steps back and smiles. A sad smile? "No Dad. You need to come out to me." Sol realizes he's still in his truck. Without a second thought, he opens the door. "Ok girl," he shrugs. "But I still want to go surfing with you. You still remember how to surf, right?" "I never forgot any of it, dad," she says. He steps out and straight into his daughter's arms. The sun is so bright. And Zoe is little again. Her face is buried in his stomach. He feels the warmth of tears as she hugs him fiercely. "Hey," he says softly, "everything's ok." He smiles and closes his eyes. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In the dripping, morning gloom of a cloudforest, a digital watch beeped. When he killed the alarm, the ringing songs of crickets filled the air. Piercing notes from coqui frogs piped in. In the trees, roosting myna birds chirped and whistled. Down the mountain, a rooster began to crow. Sol stared dully at the tent fabric. It's still dark in the outside. Still cold. With a groan, he crawled out of his sleeping bag and wrapped himself in grandma's quilt. Still smelled like her cheap cigars. Crazy old Molokai woman. Sol unzipped the tent, stretched and looked at the camper. As usual, she's already up. He can smell fresh coffee, toast and her shampoo. Love. He opened the door. She looked up from her phone and smiled. "Hey." "Hey," he nodded back. She returned to her phone, laughed and tapped the screen. Sol sat down. Music from the mainland played from wireless speakers. He leaned back and looked at Zoe. Their haole genes are strong. Like the music, her style is from 2500 miles away. Forever dressed in black, Sol knew she got picked on. But nothing phased this kid. Always finished what she started. Always top of her class. Hyper competitive. Sometimes Sol sees his brother's intense glare in her eyes. Danny. Last time he saw his brother was when he first met Zoe. He was putting his surfboard into his truck when a convertible rental car pulled up and honked. He looked over and saw a baby standing up in the passenger seat. "Soledad Tomo Sakai!" Sol looked at the driver and grinned. He knew his brother had a kid but Danny lived in Oahu. Kid had no mom. She went back to the mainland. His brother didn't know where. He's not even sure about her name. She called herself Crystal but Danny thought that's just her stripping name. Or maybe because she liked meth. Just another crazy haole from the mainland. Danny yanked a beer can from a six pack stringer between his legs and tossed one to Sol. Then he opened the passenger door. The baby peeked out. Uncombed hair, dirty face and filth stains on her clothes. Grubby. Like no one gave a shit. But neither did Sol who laughed when his brother asked him. "Me?" Sol asked. "Wat? You crazy, brah?" The baby scooted out the door, grabbed the seatbelt and carefully lowered herself to the ground. Then she stood up, casually looked around and walked away. "Call a hospital or a cop or something," said Sol. "Not me, brah. No way." "No one else I can trust Sol," said Danny. True. Their parents were dead. Grandma's dead. They knew the names of a few blood relatives on the mainland, but never met them. "Yeah?" For a moment, his brother looked pensive. But then his usual asshole grin popped back up. "Yeah, brah. Zoe's smart. Potty trained herself! No need no teacher. She just needs love. Like mom and dad kine love" Sol looked at his brother. Fucking Danny. Moves to Honolulu, bangs some crazy stripper and comes home with a kid. And Danny was serious. His older brother always did what he wanted and left others to deal with the mess. "Where you going?" asked Sol. "Away," shrugged Danny. "Sol, just give Zoe a chance. She's good. Special. You'll see." Sol nodded. He looked over at the baby. Now she was on the beach. She tripped but caught a papaya tree before doing a header into the lava rocks. He looked back at Danny. "You ever coming back?" "C'mon," smiled Danny. They watched the baby squeal and point at a sea turtle that surfaced for air. Danny leaned back in his seat and pointed his beer at the beach. "Who'd give up that?" But that was exactly what Danny gave up when he put the bullet in his brain. Zoe was his kid. No more dad. Never knew mom. Man, what a couple of dumb fucks, think Sol for the millionth time. "Oh, hey," said Zoe waving her phone. "I need your card." Sol sighed. Damn thing costs $70 bucks a month. Connects Zoe to the world. Not sure if that's good, but she says it is. And it does have good surf reports. "Mm," he nodded digging out his wallet. "What's the surf report?" "Northswell. 3-5 feet. But forget Pines" she said squinting at the swell map. "More west. Try Lymans or Kahalu'u." He frowned. Not much Zoe does bothered him. But her squint bothered him. "Eh! Where da glasses?" he demanded. "Do you mean," asked Zoe slowly as if addressing an imbecile, "where are my glasses?" He rolled his eyes. Zoe speaks the same way his mom from San Diego spoke to him and Danny when they were her age. "Yes. My apologies," he fake smiles. "But you appear to be neglecting the use of your corrective lenses. And as you may recall, Dr. Wu was most insistent that you wear them when looking at your phone." Zoe laughed and slapped the table. "Brah! You talk li one dumb fuckin' haole!" "Just wear the glasses, Zoe. Damn things cost a fortune." "Yeah, yeah" she said digging them out of her backpack. "And father, it is good we can converse like this." He looked up, suspiciously. "Why?" "CPS interview next week." Anger and misery flash like a storm over the sea. Sol closed his eyes. Goddamn Child Protective Services again. He looked at Zoe. "Already?" "Yeah," said Zoe. "Got the letter." He looked at the folded, piece of paper. An innocuous looking thing. But it's a knife. A knife that cuts things apart. He rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch. They have to leave in six minutes to beat school traffic. But his mind is here. Now. No decent clothes for the interview. No steady job. No shoes, no socks. No birth certificate. All he had was this perfect kid. Zoe put on her glasses and slid away the phone. She crossed her arms and stared. "Should I be worried?" "Nah" he smiled. This happened every few years. His surfer buddy was a lawyer. Their guardian angel. But the kid needed more. So they came up with an escape plan. It soothed Zoe's nightmares when she was little. "Ok," Zoe frowned. "But remember what we said, yeah?" "I remember," nodded Sol. "If anything happens-" "-just run away. We'll meet at La'aloa," they finished together. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She looks at his urn. She can tell it's carved from an 'ohia tree because the artist left a band of natural bark. Leis woven from flowers, orchids and maile vines are draped over it. Floral scents from the jungle mix with the tang of the sea. Kahalu'u beach. Water so clear, she sees a school of yellow fish from her chair in the pavilion. Tourists in snorkeling masks explore a calm reef while surfers ride the waves outside. An auntie who's name she has forgotten finishes her speech and shouts something in Hawaiian. Enthusiastic clapping, hooting and hollering erupts from the audience. And now it is her turn. Stuck in a dream, she walks up to the podium. Fear of speaking in front of crowds, fear of relatives she left behind, fear of fucking up trembles through each step. But as she gets closer, a wave of calmness spreads over her. Soothing love, aloha. It holds her gently, like a child. She begins to speak. "Grandpa. I owe you everything. For my life in Hawaii after mom died. For the life I have today with my children." After those words, her speech was forgotten. How many times did grandpa take her to this beach? How many bento lunches did they eat here while he told her stories about mom as a kid? Her past returns. Like the waves on the beach. She was sixteen when she moved. She didn't want to. But everything changed the day mom never showed up. She remembered getting bitchy. Talking shit about mom to other kids. But when the police car showed up, her life in California was taken away. Traffic accident. Simple as that. She never had a dad and now she didn't have a mom. But she did have a grandpa. People called her mom Dr. Sakai. She was a director of media. Forever on her phone, forever staring at screens. On any given day, mom might be compiling code, drafting a press release or kissing her goodbye before flying off to China for a conference. Everything revolved around tech. But for every vacation, they'd fly to Hawaii. Grandpa's house had no TV. No wifi. None of their screens worked in his tin-roofed, jungle shack. Nothing to do but sit on his lanai and look at the sea. And talk. Mom and grandpa had their own language. "Eh, girl" said grandpa. "You like go surf, or wat?" "Shoots" smiled mom. "But I need sunscreen." "Sunscreen?" frowned grandpa. "How you figgah?" "Well father," she winked at me, "scientific data backs up sunscreen as a viable preventive for various forms of skin cancer. To go without UV protection beneath a tropical sky is crazy." "Ahh," nodded grandpa looking at me. "Health concerns. Wise. Yet you work 60 hours a week in a cubicle for some soulless corporation. You never see the sun and look like a cave fish in your bikini. Now that, my dear Zoe, is crazy." "Eh! No make fun. You da lolo," huffs mom. "Are you still drinking yourself into a stupor each night, dear father?" "True dat," grins grandpa opening another beer. "Ah, Zoe. How I've missed you!" Her words poured out. When she was done, her face was streaked with tears. Her kids looked up at her nervously. They didn't know Hawaii. They never knew this part of her life. But the audience began their rowdy cheers and foot stomping. As she stepped down, a cousin she actually remembered stood up to hug her. Kaleo. The jerk that hid geckos in her clothes and laughed at her mainland accent. "Beautiful, Honey Girl," says Kaleo hugging her. "Honey Girl?" grins her eldest child shooting a look to her brother.
2017.02.23 06:20 suchanjvList of Top Chef contestant restaurants.
I compiled a list of restaurants where the contestants of Top Chef currently work and or own. Many past chefs are now private chefs or caterers and were not included in the list. Some chefs are doing pop ups and events around America; Mei Lin, Kristen Kish, and Casey Thompson to name a few. Follow your favorites to keep up to date. This list will probably change quickly. I will try to keep it up to date but when making it I noticed a few restaurants have closed just recently and chefs have left their jobs at certain places even in the last week. Plus many restaurants were noted as "coming soon" or "Opening 2017", They will be added when they are officially open. Some updates on some past chefs:
2015.08.22 16:03 zefmillerUpdated tl;dr of 2.0 Nations
Updated tl;dr of 2.0 Nations TL;DR 2.0 Nations so far
This Post Is No Longer Updated
6 A Nation boasting the largest vault on the server.
Aasgeirr The Boli, the Brokkr, the Dyr, the Hraefn, and the Vargr, have put aside ancestral enmity and have declared that the Aasgeirr shall be united.
Acierepaix Republic A new nation based off of Switzerland and France who strive for peace and try to keep out of conflict, ruled by an oligarchy in which 5 oligarchs form the Council.
Aldun A small nation located on a rocky terrain that used to be part of the (now disbanded) nation of Norderon.
Arboreet A friendly nation ruled by a Leader and 3 representatives, nustled deep in the heart of the Forest of Giants.
Arcation A nation settled in the Forest Biome north of Khoreau. Currently ~20 members strong and growing. Already looking to setup trade links with nations on the continent.
Ashwood A small independent trading post and town in the south eastern corner of the old Picarona claim, remaining completely neutral and acting as a trade hub/neutral ground for any and all interested nations.
Outer Heaven A center free of prosecution for the world of CivExia, sanctuary or asylum for those who seek it.
Paragon A small democratic nation which is run by an elected leader, named the Prime Minister, and the Congress, 5 citizen.
Picarona The nation of Cubism, a holy state, neutral to conflict and concentrating in food production, cultural development, and trade.
The Reach A mountain state that prides itself on survival, with a large city-fortress high up in the northern mountains.
Rijeka Empire A lush coast near a plains biome, a monarchy controlled by an emperor. It is a port city inspired by the red-roofed port cities on the Adriatic Sea. Formaly known as The City-State of Eilemurj.
Archduchy of Grios A nation ruled by a noble family, House Grios. Their main settlement is in the small, riverside town of Onterra. Onterra, while lacking in infrastructure and wealth, boasts the largest farm known to man.Cancellation Post
Necropia An Absolute Monarchy ruled by the High Lich with five lords of undeath, a quiet land littered with gravesides and mausoleums, it can be a dreary place but fear not, for death is not the end.Cancellation Post
Republic of Senoria A protectorate of Coastaro on the northern half of the small island across from Westeros, north of Kirigakure.INACTIVE > 25 DAYS
The Syndicate A union of anarchists and other libertarian socialists with every desire to begin the spread of their ideology throughout the world with all member groups functioning completely autonomously but held to certain obligations.INACTIVE > 25 DAYS
East Volksreich A country to the east of Volksreich run by big brother.INACTIVE > 25 DAYS
xofruyrhiel A northern country lead by a prime minister.INACTIVE > 25 DAYS
Yazkistan A direct democracy between Perrona and Khoreau.INACTIVE > 25 DAYS
NATO A defense alliance between between Arcadian and The Reach.
Coalition of Micronations A fully defensive alliance between Polaris, Missouri, The Khanate and New Athens to prevent smaller nations from getting bullied/annexed by larger nations.
The Gulf Alliance An alliance of all nations along the Gulf. Current members are Eilmurj, Coastaro, OFR, Kauai, Brutalis, Kirigakure, Westeros, Senoria, The Square.
The Blood and Iron Alliance An alliance with only one tenet, the Sacred Sovereignty Tenet - Sovereign Nation's rights and rule are absolute within their land. Current Members include Arcation, Furalnir, The Square, Coastaro, The Union, The Reach, Perrona and Ironscale.
2015.07.15 13:52 OneWonderfulFishEpisode 155 - LIVE from The Tin Roof in San Diego 2015
"Hot off of ComicCon, Harmontown summons harmenians to San Diego's Tin Roof for a night of drinking, rapping, dinosaurs, bananas and more. Watch the video at harmontown.com/live and become a member!" Now available on Podcast Addict et al.
2015.07.13 16:47 SoularbowlSan Diego show at Tin Roof
I was beyond disappointed that I bought tickets to this show and that the venue only had seats for a third of the audience. Not only did they not have enough seating, but the the manager of Tin Roof actually took away the chairs from the people who had to corral upstairs. The show was great, but I hope the next time Harmontown visits San Diego they look into finding a better venue. That was bullshit.
Definitely. For example my favorite records when I was a kid were Decendents "Milo Goes To College" and Ramones “Road To Ruin”. I think both those bands among many others, metal records included, were hugely influential on my songwriting. I actually like so many Fat bands it's difficult to name a favorite. I'll go with Western Addiction for now.
I like Martin 00016 small body guitars. They seem to suit my hands. I love the sound of many other guitars. Gibson's have a more woody sound that is good for the slower one's. The Gimmes strike down many of my suggestions but plenty get through. We all make suggestions and some don't make the cut. In particular, I remember "Valentine's Day" by Steve Earl. That won't hurt.
Thanks for the kind words about "Older Bro". I liked it. It was just that we rushed it a bit and I'm not sure it was the right record at the time. I think I already said this but Hang, the new album is very riffy and intense. Don't worry, there's still a few pop songs. Those are in my blood. I did love "It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia" and when I came up with the chorus had entertained briefly the idea of sending it to someone in hopes of a theme jingle. Instead I changed a word and wrote the rest of the song. Haha. Good call.
I was there for 2 months. It was a bit tough. I started missing home but, Australia is about as easy going and cool of a place to be hauled up. I have many close friends there. In particular my friends Tash and John in Melbourne. I stayed with them most of the time. Love that city.
Yeah, I have mostly loved the demos that I received over the years sometimes more than that major production that follows. They are sometimes more honest and have a vibe that can't be reproduced. Those changes from our demos were most likely my fault. To err is human..
I was obsessed with music. Didn't care mush for studies other than History and Literature. I was the guy who made mixed tapes for everyone based on some idea that I knew what they would like better than them. Haha.
Yes. Things of been going poorly for so long in the music industry. It just seems like the only solution is this kind of record label. To sell events rather than single songs. You can sell them less money. it's not as big of a production. You can’t overproduce the record when you don’t have time. And you guarantee the vibe when a person has to play predominately live. Ultimately, I started one week records because I like music and I want to be involved in any way I can in it’s production. I have always enjoyed being in the studio involved in the creative process. I love to produce records. I think it's my favorite aspect of the creative side of music.
The next release is a guy from Quebec named Jo Bergeron. He is great. Has a very interesting voice and style. After that Betty and the Boy from Seattle and then a girl named Laura Mardon from London who lives in Australia. She has the voice of a siren and sing songs like Billy Bragg or Frank Turner. Political but beautiful.
I'm not sure he knows about One Week. Haha. I assume he would think it was a cool idea. We don't do physical release and it is, so far predominately acoustic so there really isn't any possible competition issues there. Fat is releasing the Cresswell record on Vinyl.
I was playing with Jason Sears in one band and fooling around with Bomber and Chris in another setting. I introduced them and they hit it off. Truthfully, I was grounded by my Mom most of my childhood. I think those guys realized they were better off with a dude who could get out at night. Haha.
We miss Jessie but Joe is a great replacement. The only one plausible really. He is a tryly gifted musician and is having a huge influence on the bands sound. Taking us back to the riff days. It's weird, there is so much shared history that chemistry was instantaneous.
So I am going to try and do this on the first of the month. All times are local for the area. I get these off the official Chive Nation Facebook list so if there are more feel free to add them to the comments.
Tin Room San Diego set to open Dec. 6 in Hillcrest San ...
MANIC FANATIC @ TIN ROOF SAN DIEGO 'SEPARATE WAYS'
TinRoof San Diego - 11/18/17
Gaslamp.org video of the month - Tin Roof San Diego!
Tin Roof San Diego
Tin Roof San Diego - YouTube
Tin Roof San Diego 2018. - Duration: 8:15. Phoenix Rising 619 views. 8:15. Gaslamp.org video of the month - Tin Roof San Diego! - Duration: 4:27. Enne Bi Recommended for you. 4:27 Check out the Tin Roof San Diego! Corey Gray/Jake Coco - SUGAR (Maroon 5 Cover) LIVE @ TIN ROOF SAN DIEGO, CA - Duration: 3:41. Tin Roof San Diego 219 views TUNE IN WEEKLY FOR OUR SCREEN TO STAGE UPDATES!!! TIN ROOF SAN DIEGO LIVE MUSIC VENUE 401 G STREET in THE GASLAMP DISTRICT www.TinRoofSanDiego.com www.Facebo... Walking around Mission Beach and Pacific Beach Boardwalk in San Diego, California 【4K】 - Duration: 50:42. Wind Walk Travel Videos ʬ Recommended for you 50:42 Singing: Chad & Rosie with special appearance from Sierra Schneider. Song by: Kid Rock & Sheryl Crow 'Picture'