May. 16, 2013
No more Lakers. No more Clippers. At least there’s still Audio Cheeseburgers at the Good Luck Bar.On Thursday, May 16th at 10pm, I’ll be tossing up some jump shots from downtown and lobbing alley-oops to all the patrons in attendance.
Solid sets of tunes all night, so cut through that zone defense and dunk a sonic assist from the usual stylings:
- Garage Rock
- British Invasion
- Funky Stunners
- Modern Lo-Fi
- And plenty of other assorted tracks
Don’t roll your ankle trying to win the game. Pass the rock and relax with some cool tunes, chill drinks and good times.
Music starts at 10.
May. 9, 2013
Hell yeah, dude. I’m all about cool crazy rain sunsets.
May. 9, 2013
Checkin the back logs. Didn’t even know this happened to me! Why didn’t anyone tell me??
May. 7, 2013
I admit that I use the term ‘racist’ loosely.
In the past i’ve said that my android phone is racist against emojis and that Instagram is racist against Twitter. Aside from it simply being humorous to me, it points out the absurdity of an entity choosing not to operate…
Felt compelled to throw my two cents in on this H&S discussion because yes, it is indeed a truly horrible stain on the (almost) east side LA bar scene filled with obscene, hungry, Ralph Steadman-drawn serpentine socialites. Its first sin comes from the idea of placing an overpriced mixology-hole, dressed down to insinuate a lower-class “hip” dive bar, as far east as westsiders will trek. It’s a shiny, record label version of a good bar — it is the Mumford and Sons of bars. The bar is usually packed with people trying to shark and fuck. Now, I know must bars have people trying to get laid or make some kind of connection. And in most bars you can usually spot these people easily — their saccharine eagerness, their itchy noses, the last-call desperation in their eyes — because they usually don’t make up more than forty percent of the crowd on any given night. But at Harvard and Stone the majority of the clientele are playing a hard, joyless, unsympathetic game. The LA cliche that everyone in this town has an agenda, whether it be to use you for something in their career or use you to ejaculate in/on/near, has never been so acidicly apparent than in this “venue”.
They also have a dress code, practically unheard of in these neighborhoods, that exists in that dress code realm of suburban high schools that fear an urban influence or a club in the early 2000s. What’s not allowed? Shiny shirts, sports apparel, hats of any kind, logos — sound familiar? As outdated, and wholly unnecessary for this part of Los Angeles (bordering the more touristy side of Hollywood Blvd.), as this policy is, one can still track the train of thought. They don’t want “gangbangers” (lol) coming in and “fronting” and “scaring away all the well-tipping white people”, er, “regulars”, I guess. But even I, a visually Wonderbread Peter Parker in sweaters and 511s, was asked to remove my Minneapolis Lakers hat. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t “repping” anything, it was just a well-chosen hat that coincided with my outfit. After the bouncer gave me shit about it I conceded and immediately afterwards watched a crew of Kings of Leon misfits saunter in wearing huge, floppy, view-obstructing hats. Oh well, I guess that’s their “thing”.
All of that just speaks more to Mike Eagle’s removal from tonight’s bill. Aside from a silly, excluding dress code and a generally vomit-inducing atmosphere, I’ve had a bar tender there tell me not to order from him any longer if I planned to ”tip like a shit head” after giving him the standard one dollar for opening my can of overpriced beer. He, with his meticulous outfit and framed mixology degree covered in coke dust, felt the cracking of an aluminum can that cost seven dollars garnered a much loftier tip. What a fucking guy! Once, which only echoes how shitty the clientele is, though the bar tends to love these people, an extremely drunk, extremely privileged, cackling blonde girl in her late 20s started grossly making fun of my friend for being Jewish. In fact, if the remarks weren’t so outrageously offensive, I would have thought she was trying to flirt with him. To make things more Harvard, more Stone, it seemed as though our group were the only ones to find this behavior startling. The gaggle of sorority sisters with her snorted and egged her on while the trust-fund boys feeding them drinks, hoping to capitalize on their inebriated insanity, told us to “take it easy.” Maybe they were new to LA?
So here’s to not supporting an overpriced shithole with a possibly racist management and definitely less-than-tolerable clientele. Lamb dressed as mutton, or something.
May. 2, 2013
My San Francisco trip so far…
• on the way to the airport, there was a car accident that stopped the freeway.
• while in traffic, I discovered the McDonald’s bag got syrup on my pants.
• as soon as tony drove off, I realized I left my wallet in his car, so he had to come back.
• my e boarding pass wouldn’t scan, because the screen on my phone is broken so I had to get out of line to print one out.
• I was 5 minutes late for the boarding call so I got scolded by a sassy black woman.
• due to favorable weather, and probably a couple blow jobs to the right people, we arrived in SF a half hour earlier than expected.
• now I’m eating a delicious slice of pizza and drinking a beer.
• life rules.
May. 1, 2013
never fall in love with a nigga like me.
May. 1, 2013
fuckin dumb ass babies.
Apr. 4, 2013
Watchin the Shaq jersey retirement party w/ Max. He’s crying, not me.
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