Sorry the Clarendon updates have been slow.  I won't lie to you, it is all Brian's fault.  Don't you worry about why, dear reader.  He knows what he's done.  Now he's playing all innocent saying, "but Matt I need to study blah blah wah wah."  For now you'll have to do with a bit of my text and what pictures I could steal off of Eddie's site and out of Brian's camera.  Some how the formatting of the page got fubar'd, so please bear with. 

Well, Brian has to sleep, so this is it for now.  More will come soon.

Ooh, it's been a while since I've done one of these, and I'm chomping at the proverbial bit... I've got my freaky quote, I've got about a weeks worth of relevant info, got some updates... BMDIP is sweating at the palms, we're just a few days from our second Crawl, and we really hope it works out... in a perfect world, we'll have weather like we have today; in my neighborhood every lawn had become a hearth to be curled up into, I want to sit on my porch and throw beer cans at the mailbox and lock my jacket away, this is karmic return for all those hikes to classes that left my nose dripping and weeping... but we've still got the shadow of Sunday on our minds, the eternal return of the snow...  Oh, before I forget, the write-up of our second trip to Richmond is posted, lots of good pictures on this one.

On Friday Ben and I saw "Spun", the latest Jason Schwartzman vehicle (that's a joke, son); not bad, cartoony and shallow for a drug movie, but not moralizing in any significant sense.  We went into Dupont Circle, and I think that was key to our enjoyment of the movie.  Drug movies generally aren't theater-necessitating high budget special effects showcases, but renting them (I rented "Requim" and "Jesus's Son") puts you in the comfort of your home; here we were out in the cold city and defensive and on edge, it was great.  Said edge was taken off when we met Damon and this other Brian at Kokopooli's in Adams Morgan.  Really great place, not too crowded considering the address, prices were decent (well, if you end up with a free pitcher at the end of the night like we did), and if all the billiard sets are taken, the foosball table is usually free!  We defended her against all comers for some two hours... actually, "defended" implies that we won more than we lost, not the case, but we had a big stack of quarters that kept control of the table better than our unsound wrists.  Eventually we did get a pool table and proceeded to play the most pathetic game in the history of inelastic collisions... such that come 3:30 the management was scooping balls out of our pockets to try to get us to clear out of there...  afterwards we had one of those late night pizza slices that hangs on your mouth, begs you not to brush your teeth... I think we've all been there.  Ben was suspicious of our price ($3 for a big slice, about a quarter of a cheese pizza), but I reminded him that we had had that beautiful moment in the bar when our bill was much less than expected and everyone thinks they owe everyone else money, then I realize that we've been drinking for free for the past hour and quickly step out on the coattails of Providence... we came out ahead, no need to look any further than that.

I last wrote on St. Patrick's Day, when we had been to see the Carpets Jazz Band at the Firehouse Grill ... I'm not sure why I'm mentioning it again, I spend a good majority of my review talking about that act... but now I know their name and I know they play every Monday (was back on the 24th, missed the 31st, won't happen again) and I'm really happy to have a new jam session to go see, check them out, and good luck to them.

74 hours until the Crawl... Matt's already in training, he wouldn't drink at the hockey game last night, he doesn't want to blow it.  I'm getting my gear together, I need an efficient system for carrying and rapidly deploying the camera.  Although its possible I'll just be able to use the pocket of my raincoat...

Quick update (it's late, just barely made the date)- the Billy Goat on Ice page is up.  Lots of pictures, but there were more.  I decided to keep the good weather one (still to come) and the bad weather one separate for this reason.  Still, there is good info there in the forms of maps and pictures of meeting spots.  Check it out!

Just one more quick thing - Brian, Anthony and I were at the Capitals game today.  I loved watching us beat on those Florida Furry bastards (3-0).  I have never seen the spirit of a team so thoroughly crushed.  It was delicious. 

It has been far too long since you have heard from us, but believe you me, we have been busy!  Yes, I know, too much time doing and not enough writing.  I hope the following makes it up to you.

Today we were supposed to hike the Billy Goat Trail, but even though it is spring - it was snowing.   Not surprisingly the group we were taking bailed on us.  The conversation beforehand went something like this:

Matt- "All the good boys and girls are canceling, want to show them what common sense is really like?"

Brian- "No, but if we do go we get to drink afterwards, right?"

Matt- "Of course, you in?"

So we went, and it was grand.  Originally we were just going to take the tow path to the falls (to get pictures with high water), but we ended up doing the whole hike in reverse - slippery rocks and all.  Surprisingly, all our teeth are accounted for - no big slips.  We are going to post some pictures and a write-up under adventures ASAP - just you wait.  But now to what we do have done . . .

First off, and I'm quite excited about this, we got our first fan mail from someone we didn't already know!  In this case it was from a nice girl named Mary (last names withheld here) who negatively commented on our "The Pub" review.  Sorry Mary!  We gotta go with what we know.  I heavily encourage people sending us mail - if you write, you will probably see it in print. 

Secondly, we have four, count 'em four reviews out.  This would include Cowboy Cafe', Frank's Place, T.T. Reynolds and Firehouse.  All very good and very late.  Still on the writing books is our Magical Mystery Richmond Birthday Tour - you'll have to wait for that gem.  As a special note, Brian and I are on a roll - four bars and eight thumbs up.  Anyone interested in tagging along on a drinky expedition should ride this train while it is hot.

Thirdly, we're still cleaning up pages and links from our conversion over to this new format.  Don't forget to write if you find things that aren't right!

And last, this Sunday Brian and I are leading a hike on the Billy Goat Trail.  If you'd like to go too, meet us at the parking lot off MacArthur Blvd by the Old Angler's Inn at 10:45.  I'll be wearing a bright orange hat.  Don't be late!

No time like the present to talk about being raised Catholic... I'm so atheist that I bleed ordered rational crystals of carbon and copper, but that old time religion protrudes sometimes... Matt asked yesterday how to make the sign of the cross... "Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch", he rhymed, and this motion crosses the chest from right to left.  My last communion is nearly a paleo-communion these days, but this motion seems unnatural... Meh, it's not worth the research to verify.

Before I drone on for too long, check out the review of Fat Tuesdays, up and running in all its off-topic glory.

Hell, I'm starting to hate this schedule page... it's nearly an invitation for things to get rained out.  So we were supposed to do recon for the Clarendon Crawl tonight, but it was so generally shitty out that things got called off.  We don't skirt from rain, but we wouldn't have done our best surveillancing tonight.  Normally I'd be okay with that, as Matt and I worked on the page all night instead, but that legwork has to be done!  We'll do it next week, I guess, but I hate rushing things.  Something's going to happen next week and fuck things up; Matt is really busy, and I'm pretending to be busy so I don't feel left out.

I've been on Spring Break this week, and as of now it's official, I've wasted the whole thing.  Which is what vacations are for, I guess; if I actually accomplished all of the things I had wanted to, I wouldn't have enjoyed myself.  The weekend leading into this week, the 7th-9th of March, was jam packed... we spent Sunday sleeping at 4:00 pm, and it was still jam packed.  On Friday we had our scheduled exploration of Arlington/McLean, and reviews of the Cowboy Cafe and Franks Place should be forthcoming.  On Saturday I played paintball, Matt entertained visiting college friend Carl, and we met up later at the ESPN Zone in DC, then moved to Carpools in Arlington... that was a long drunken draining night,  Everyone else had Monday work to set them back on track, I feel like I let my hangover recovery last for three whole days.  But fuck all... I already knew I was lazy and shiftless.  Once more I was unable to properly work a growler... allow me to explain.

On Saturday, the 8th, we followed paintball in Leesburg with a trip to the Dominion Brewery, great idea, right?  I was getting together with friends on Sunday, so I figured I'd fill up two growlers and everyone would enjoy a specialty beer.  I chose Millennium, which is technically a barley wine, has twice the alcohol you'd normally find, meow meow meow.  Fine, in theory, but we all got so drunk that night that our Sunday plans were cancelled, and even if they had happened, we wouldn't have consumed that beer.  I love my growlers, I love the idea of bringing rare beers back with me, but it never works out.  Every time I come back from Old Dominion, either from consumption there or elsewhere, I'm not in the mood to finish my growlers within the next couple of days... and growlers don't keep beer very long, five days and it'll all be flat.  They end up requiring more planning than beer consumption should, I guess.  Zach and I took care of them this past Tuesday, but we were knocked on our asses in the process, which is another reason why I was off all week and did nothing to this page, or the myriad other deficient areas of my life.

Tonight Matt put up the new page design, which is Eddie's work, I guess.  I like it, it's a big step forward.  I like this blog-esque text being larger, it plays nicely into my love affair with every piddling thing that I write.  Also, I'm glad to be rid of frames, although I agree with Matt that they were a necessary part of the evolution of this design.  Forgive our growing pains over the next couple of days, and if you find plotholes in our narrative, it'd be cool to let us know.

In other news, Bernie got short with our lack of professionality and gave us the domain www.drunkinpublicdc.com for the year as a present.    I still have to sit with him and have him explain to me the in's and out's of what this means.  For you, kind reader, it means having to type less to get where you need to go!

I came into my house singing; whatever I possessed last night, I still hold a bit of it and that, gentries and gents, is the sign of a successful evening out… and what an evening!  Pub Crawl is past tense now and free to melt away into obscurity but it does so with a cherry glow and sincere sad-eyed smile; we knocked things out of parks, indisputably and sans reason.

My notation will, I’m sure, start well reasoned and coherent and trail off into meaninglessness, but isn’t that always the case?  These are thoughts that frame the experience, that don’t fit into a write-up that will review a good chunk of Old Town… woke up in a bed provided by Magnanamites Anthony and Tracy, with memories that stop at about 1:00; ate beautiful omelets whose onions still lie in my mouth, spoke to Matt on the phone and later in person and defended, then admitted, that I kept falling down last night, and not my normal prat falls, for real, but it was icy, damnit, and luckily I possess an unconscious eideticity of how to take a fall, I’ve nary a scratch today; Adam drove me home and thank god he came up from Richmond to be a part of this; so many people couldn’t make the simple effort to place their corpulences outside their houses for the night but I said I would accept loss forever and trod wantonly on bitterness but Adam, and here’s an old fashioned day tripper filling us with his presence and light and let me generalize, we had the light of 29 souls with us at some point last night if rheumy morning after estimation can be trusted and we are so better for it… words fail.

Here at home SNL didn’t record and Ben went to his Bird House party (didn’t I say I would call him at 4 AM?  Was in no state to keep that promise) and people were full of stories that I should have remembered and the camera had three separate shots of me looking drunk enough to rot but Matt sez every picture of my ends up showing a drunken side; maybe its because they always tell you to smile for the flash.  I was on the Metro going down last night and reading Saul Bellows a narration that invites, demands introspection and thinking how satisfied I was with myself, an emotion that doesn’t often get expressed, believe me, because I was living in the essential and learning what, looking back with hindsight, demands regret flagellation and letting my Id and Superego have a welcoming long lost handshake.  I am so glad everyone that came out was there, I scroll through the camera memory and beam fondness, Blow as Deep as You Want to Blow!

I don't see how Zach would have reason to be mad at us, it developed so organically.  We needed to shovel snow out of the parking space Matt was going to use, and the closest place was Zach's parking space... and the snow just naturally fell from the shovel in a wall-like formation.  Then we got in a snowball fight when Matt had the misfortune of turning his back on me for a second.  And after some time with that, we felt old and winded, so logically we started building a snowman, but there was no good snow in the backyard, so our snowballs ended up in front by the parking lot...

Actually, for legal reasons these, er, um, kids from the neighborhood built this snowman.  Naturally we are posing with it because we found it there all by itself and didn't spend the last of our daylight building it and pouring water on it so it would freeze into ice. 

Listening to a Henry Mancini (the mascot's friend!) track right now that Ben gave me last night, one of many keepsakes from the evening, it turned out.  It's official, now that I've done this two weeks in a row: the beauty of a drunken Wednesday night far outweighs the potential pain of a hungover Thursday morning. 

Last night Ben and I got together with the idea to revisit our old IDs on the NTN trivia network.  National Triva Network or some such is a gigantic web of barroom trivia establishments, most of which are in Family FunTime Drinkholes like T.G.I. McScratchies, in fact, it's probably the only reason to brave one of those plastic fantastic scenes.  But NTN isn't livening up every dining genericism, so we went to the official website to try and figure out just which site was convenient to my Tysons Corner roost.  So after a dinner at Tastee 29, me and Ben and classmate Jess were off to the Embassy Suites on Rt. 7, where they were supposed to have a full set.

Hotel bars are an odd duck; they're generally a decent place for a drink, and I actually like the bizarre business "just passing through" atmosphere, but they've got bad points too.  I can remember one business trip to Houston, back when the idea of me taking business trips wasn't an exercise in high comedy, where the branch of my company put me up specifically in some hotel, because their bar had a free happy hour to patrons and their guests.  And they never verified guests too rigorously, my Houston friends were obvious veterans of the Hyatt Regency scam act.  Anyway, this hotel bar was classy enough to make our skin crawl a bit, but that honestly wouldn't take much.  See, hotel bars close early, we were looking at last call around 10:30, after a mere two rounds of trivia.  But while they're open, you don't pay for your liquor through the nose, which is nice.  Also, I kind of dug the near solitude; weekday travelers keep to their lonesome most of the time.

The next closest NTN host was Greveys, a decent sports bar at the corner of Gallows and 50.  I'm no stranger here, I used to work across the street; come summertime they crank up their patio and the whole thing is a mess of lawn chairs packed foot to foot, plastic cups of draft, cool evening breezes you've spent the day waiting for... right now the outdoor taps are frozen over, so inside we went, for an interior that's all oak and TV sets, not bad, but again, my bougie sense was tingling.  Anyway, Smitty, an obvious bouncer with nothing to do that night, set us up with a table and a television all our own.  Ben (or CHEWBA) would end up beating Brian (THRLHO) and his classmate Ann (um, GOOGLI?  I'm bad enough with real names), but I was strong out of the gates, at least.  I'm saving a lot of text here for a full fledged Greveys review I can write tomorrow.

At 1:30 or so every table had been turned over but ours, so Smitty cast his menacing shadow and politely chased us out.  That's cool, except today, I woke up and checked my wallet, and my driver's license was nowhere to be seen.  Then it came rolling back to me; Smitty (swear to god, that's how he's known there, it was probably his call sign at Bouncer School) had requested a license to get the NTN console boxes.  Now anyone that's ever been to a place with this game knows how unprecedented this is; the boxes are just grabbed from a bin by you, the consumer.  Even at Greveys, this is unprecedented, but what's a bouncer without a power trip?  So at the end of the evening, Ben was driving me home, and Smitty's mind was on that second plate of chicken wings we were keeping him from, so I left without my license.  And Smitty's unofficial appropriations policy meant that no-one knew anything about a license grab, so I wasn't able to get it back when I stopped by the place today.  So, let that be a lesson to you guys; don't trust bouncers with difficult tasks, like recall or spatial relations.  Actually, half the world's bouncers would probably be okay, they're the small clever type that pulls a switchblade at a moment's notice.  But the big guys have had years of testosterone corruption on their frontal lobes, you're lucky if you don't have to help them through reading your ID.

While I was out last night, my computer was thoughtful enough to record Lupin III, so I've got to go watch that.  Greveys should get a review before Saturday's Bar Crawl... nothing will get done afterwards.

A float is a sixty foot long trailer clad in fiberglass and such so that is looks like a pirate ship, bar, castle, whatever.  This is all the viewers get to see.  Underneath this armor lies hidden kegs and (inside the conning tower), rum and  a porta-john.  Off the back is a set of wide and low stairs (for ease of jumping on and off of).  So, basically this parade was an excuse to drink, throw beads at psyched up spectators (who will do anything for beads), drink and yell (and drink).  I got to run on an off of a moving vehicle (followed by another moving vehicle) while half blind drunk toting a sword while being cheered on by thousands in full view of the authorities and with their unspoken consent.  Last time I tried that here in Virginia I almost spent a night in the pokey.  Damn, all we got here are damn protesters.

I'm definitely going back next year. 

Which brings me to my next big sappy realization - one that was much better phrased in my mind when I was drunk three days ago.  People have said that to know what you are going to be like when you are older - just look at your family.  After spending  so much time with my family (albeit drunk), I have decided this can't be that bad of a thing.  My family may have some rough spots, but they know how to have fun no matter how old they get - and in the end that is what is most important.

Anyway, we are in the home stretch with this Bar Crawl thing.  Just thought I'd mention it one more time to make sure y'all remember!

While Matt is on a plane to Sparkling Pirate Carnival '03, I was celebrating the 30th birthday of Chris, former coworker and forever companion, those days from youth that I will we will keep going; how many jobs have I feared might define me and let melt away, letting so many good people slough out of my life; last week in Richmond I met a friend of a friend from Charlottesville, old job side by side with a guy that proudly wore the nickname "Bunky", how many people around are there answering to "Bunky"?  "Hey," I sez, "I knew a guy named Bunky, but he didn't drink like that back in '99", but he hadn't been dumped by so and so in '99, so it goes.  But I'm given to digression, tonight I was with those former coworkers from a great job I used to have that captured so many of us in the same shot of life, frames snipped from a film, legs happening to be thrown akimbo in the same random angle, and this is key, and we all grasped at this before it was too late because everyone goes their own way, but you decide what is flotsam and what is fortune.  So I'm getting on ten months distant from that old job, and keeping up with those souls, it keeps me.

Some three weeks ago, Matt and I went out to Patriots Cafe, we've got a review to prove it.  But in our planning stages, it was supposed to be a part of a greater whole, a run around a stretch of Route 50, Fairfax, a run that we never got to.  Tonight I did that stretch.  Met at Fast Eddies,  pool hall extraordinaire but only because they have one million tables, god knows you pay through the roof for the privilege.  There for about four hours, 5:30 until 9:00, then I convince everyone to go to Patriots because we have a chance of getting to a dart board there.  And also because all of them were dancing around the karaoke idea, and, hell, I've got to stop badmouthing it as a social trend, I see now why it's so prevalent in our restaurants and bars, damn enjoyable when the singing becomes a group affair, closest thing we have to the old drinking songs... 9:00 until closing at Patriots, watching that crowd dwindle, draining pitchers, getting our hands on darts at nights end, singing a bit what else can you do on a night like this, and isn't it wonderfully mild here in Virginia all of a sudden, the cold isn't so oppressive and average for the year and everything is so beautiful when you're average... Somehow Patriots fosters a stage in which people bring their drinks up with them; I've learned to dismiss a cute girl, but a cute girl holding a beer, well, I'm not made of stone.

The lights were on in Patriots and we were four sheets to the wind, my friends all had children, dogs, or lives to get to, but I was able to cajole Tom to go a block further to Tastee 29 for a cup of sober.  Hour or more of sad conversation looking back at our fading gut drink drunk and all the drunken spells before it, all those horrible receding pseudo-memories a man can accumulate in just half a lifetime; Tom's not at his halfway point yet, I'm younger but already running over the zero line, Criswell predicts.  Eggs and sausage, coffee and a roll, and we were back into that surprisingly narcotic night, hey, it's February!  Things start warming up as of now!

Everybody watch the Miles Davis Story on Bravo this Sunday after the Simpsons, what else you got going?  Me, I'm sleeping in and dramatically throwing away my cocktail glass for the rest of the weekend.  Although, you know, I've had a cold for a while, and immuno-depressant be damned, my symptoms seem to let up when I smell like a brewery. 

Brian and I had our first Big Adventure.  This was an unplanned new feature to our page - essentially us documenting a trip out of the DC area.  This time it was Brian and Matt's Great Richmond Adventure!  We already have New York and perhaps Baltimore on the dockett - we'll see when that happens.  In addition, because we have been asked so much, we are adding a recipe section, although you'll have to wait for Brian to get well before much shows up there.  Oh, and since our rant page was getting long, we have an archive for old rants.

Crawl Update!  She doesn't want me to say this, but the Old Town Bar Crawl is going to be the day after friend Courtney's 25th birthday!  No presents necessary, especially not water bras, just make sure to say Happy 25! 

All that being said, being under quarantine did allow me some time for some web design.  Normally Matt does these pages, and my job is to sit at the keyboard at the appropriate time and type with the strength of 50 monkeys.  But with our Bangkok Blues review, up as of now, I did the back half of the labor.  I even made a Music icon by stealing from Microsoft.  So go read that, and then write us and tell us I didn't get the transparencies working right.  And then go to Bangkok Blues, it's where I would be right now if my left nostril wasn't running up our water bill.

Matt's last update, which I am now reading, sez 30 to 50 people are doing this Old Town Crawl.  Oh, but don't worry, he says, some people will drop out.  Damn hell ass right, they'd better drop out!  I mean, 30 people, that's a school bus, and I do Randall one better, I hate people and gatherings.  Sure, I understood the principle of this event, we invite everyone we know, and I went and told both my friends.  So these other people... well, hey, y'all come on out, I'll fake a smile!  No seriously, it should be fun, it sounds like I'll have a 29-strong human bulldozer securing me a seat at every bar.

Alright, I'm going to go attack this cold aggressively; I plan on pouring milk over a cereal bowl full of vitamin C capsules and telling myself it's Kixs.  I think that's a holistic treatment.

I called up my best friend from high school last night - hadn't heard from him for a year and a half.  He used to be a little rough around the edges.  OK, he was a self styled thug, but now he found Jesus.  Normally this sort of thing would piss me off, but he's not evangelical or anything - just a lot calmer.  Actually, it seems to have given him focus and passion for life that was missing before.  I guess there is no law that being born again has to make you a psycho.    Kudos to him.

I will also mention here that fifteen days ago, Brian promised to "learn some manner of linguistic frugality..."  He just spent three paragraphs pissed off I didn't want to drink last night to my one about my friend changing his life around.  I'm not saying anything, just . . . you know . . . pointing stuff out.  If you agree, send us an e-mail here..

So a leisurely start, arrival at the mall at 1:00, me and Ben and Vanessa and Damon, and we were marching until 5:30... no, we finished up marching earlier but seemed to be walking back to a Metro station for a long ass time.  Anyway, a beer or two there put some rose back in our cheeks (I won't dignify a Pizzaria Unos with a comment).  By that time we could think about dinner, which was Ethiopian cuisine at, uh, I forget.  And now that I've eaten Ethiopian once, I can pshaw the idea if it comes up again... good beer though, we got a pitcher of "Turbo Dog", a good dark beer.  Is Turbo Dog an authentic Ethiopian name?  Crazy language... Then we went two doors down to the Toledo Lounge to see friends of Ben; I have fond memories of stopping in to that place on a Sunday and finding half price burgers and $2 drafts, the other night it was just okay.  The highlight of the night, though, was HR-57.  We need to finish our reviews of that place, it'll always be the main reason I go into the city.  But last night was a fundraiser night, guest Eric Lewis was in from New York, a genuine headliner.  Yeah, we had to pay $2 extra, but it was so worth it... and I really dig the jazz piano, its so expressive, more so than any of the horns.  It was an official formal affair, a packed house, piano bass drum (so the piano never gets drowned out) until midnight.  Then nearly everyone cleared out, at the end of the official performance; Philistines!  Suckers! because we got another hour and a half of jazz, because Lewis was still playing incredible piano, with two new alto saxes... totally cool.  I've got to see if he put out any music.  Anyway, I've got a visit fresh in my mind, so that could flower a review, but Matt needs to get out again.

Today's headache was brought to you by last night's port wine.  Luckily my computer recorded SNL successfully, for once, and I had something to watch while sipping water.  Three Will Forte sketches!  Three Tina Fey appearances!  Ray Liota out there giving a damn!  Ben gave me an LP last night, "The Story of Star Wars, from the original soundtrack".  I can't play LPs, I'll have to go to his basement to do it, so I'm not sure why he gave it to me... but I'm dying to find out what it is.  A soundtrack?  A radio play?  The christmas album?  Inquiring minds want to know.

OK, we got updates!  First off, we now have a FAQ to answer all of your burning BMDIP questions.  I also got off my ass and added the Tastee 29 Diner.  I have to apologize that I put off posting such a good place for so long - please forgive me.  I also got China Chef II, generic but fun.  Also have Mishas up.

Looking at the message board today, I can see I missed a call from Ben at Dr. Dremos; luckily I didn't have to choose.  I really need to get back to Dr. Dremos; in the summer for the excellent outdoor area, and once in the winter for the novelty of actually going inside.  I think they might have some of the old Herndon Chamdeau furniture; those were some cool couches.

OK, topical.  One thing that happened today.  Hmmm.  Well, my friend was telling me that I was anti-social and inhuman.  I told him that wasn't so because I had my hu-man test.  When I'm feeling particularly numb, I watch the movie the Iron Giant.  If I don't get all choked up at the end for the 'superman' scene (if you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about) then I know I have something to worry about.  Hasn't happened yet - still have some hu-man emotion in me.  Anyway, I was being serious and he laughed at me because he thought I was joking.  

Bastard.  He'll get his. 

I'm back on a normal sleep schedule after weeks as a Johnny-Na'er-Eats-Breakfast.  On Sunday I was up until my normal 4:00, trying to finish The Subterraneans before the school semester started, and I had to get up in three hours to look up just what classes I was starting... so coffee kept me awake, but I drink coffee irregularly, and at 8:00 PM I could tell that the pot I drank 13 hours ago was still percolating in my system; so I'd need some Nyquil or something.  Meanwhile Zach was stressed about, well, I usually don't inquire.  So we were going for a quick draught, and I put two and two together and, arms waving excitedly, exclaimed "Half Price Burger Night!"

Several nearby establishments participate in this tradition (listed here, on the Monday schedule) but the only one worthwhile is the Sign of the Whale in Falls Church.  Sure, I've had a night of drinking here, I've crammed into the bar corridor, but generally this is a restaurant with restaurant-level cuisine.  They don't need to participate in a program designed to get people drinking , but they do anyway, and god bless 'em.  Anyway, a burger, a few Guinness pints, and I was out like a light.

Matt, Zach and I tried to start a tradition early last year of eating half price burgers at the Shark Club.  We'd always get bad food or bad service or both, and then tip poorly and vow never to come back... and then forget and come back again.  We really should have just driven down the road a ways... ah well, live and learn.

Pretty decent weekend, even though I didn't have a work week to proceed it (more of a lounge week).  On Friday Matt and I went to Patriot's Cafe in Fairfax, had as much of a blast as we could have without sticking around until closing.  Still, it must have been 1:00, as we tried another bar afterwards, and they just waved us away.  McGillicuties or something; Matt was driving, so I'm only vaguely sure it was in Mclean... Anyway, Anthony and Tracey were out with us at Patriots, greatest couple in the world save their general inability to leave the home.  I only hope this is the start of a new trend of them drinking with us; it would be such a honor for me to host their intervention.

On Saturday, Matt said he was off kilter from too much sleep (fucking insomniacs, if it's not one thing it's another) and I wanted to hike or something, so we bummed around Olde Town Alexandria for a few hours.  We were in the planning stages for our Old Town bar crawl, and said plan can now be seen here.  I'm not really a crawler myself, more of a stationary drinker... it's all part of my plan to get pity shots from bartenders.  Anyway, we were in and out of about fifteen places asking what time they would be closing; ever been into fifteen bars and come away with not one drink?  It was torturous; one time we were just in there to get some info, and the bartender was already laying out napkins... I held it together, but just barely.  The upshot of all of this, besides the eventual crawl, is that we came across two or three places that deserve the full lube job, especially the Lizard Lounge.  The torn upholstery, the hallway sink, the cheap pool... someone should write me and tell me if it's as good as it looks.  Well, a review will be forthcoming, by hook or by crook.

Cheers to Cartoon Network for starting the Futurama reruns... I'm really digging the Early Bender voice.  Now I'll simply convince them that Firefly is a cartoon...

It was serendipity that matched the genesis of this idea with the holidays; it gave us time to drink around, true, but also corresponded our first steps out into that Fairfax night with our various holiday tiffs and tangles... as a result, we're feeling a little burnt out right now... no, that terminology is too strong.  We've built up a schedule of non-stop prepatory drinkery, and we know it can't continue once the January world starts up again.  It'll be interesting to see just how that schedule evolves, how our already full lives adapt to the presence of our new adopted responsibility to all of you wine, dine, sip and suck our way through this county we've called home for so so long.  Matt has the boundless energy of someone that actively fears slowing down; and I possess a delightfully uncomplicated existence; we should be aces.

Every day (and it has been nearly every day for a while now, Matt pointing and clicking away at the mountain while I sat behind, book in lap) we come to each other with reports of people we've spread this idea too, and we're constantly getting the common reaction of interest and support.  Alright, I half expected some concern over our mounting alcoholism, but these people are our friends, they know a lost cause when they see it.  Back on subject, this is a potential snowball of a concept, potentially fascinating a palpable mass.  But on the other hand, we're solitary types; the strength of this page will be a look into the infinitely fascinating world of ourselves, amid this suburban canvas we seem so fascinated with.  Okay, that's brazenly self-involved, exaggerated for effect, but it really should define our presentation.  We're not too concerned with biases or facts, we'll be speaking with libationarily loosened tongues until the reader has a sense of us, our opinions, and a guide by which to judge our bar reports.  We're going to hit everywhere we see until we can retire back to our tried and true favorites, veterans of that narcotic American night.

And I'm going to learn some manner of linguistic frugality...