Monday, December 23, 2013
Day 10 Stats -- Stat Harder with a Vengeance
Goettle had a fine duck dinner at the Tap Room. Duck breast cooked medium rare to medium over a bed of roots vegetables. Would've gone really well with a Cabernet, Amarone, or Brunello, but we're in the tap room, not my house. And I felt perversely satisfied that no one came by to see what I was eating, or my penchant for being nice and sharing would've kicked in. It was pretty tasty.
After one more tasty malted beverage it was time to move onto the worst microbrewery this side of Anheiser-Busch. Triumph should be called "Failumph." I've never had beer in there without wondering how they could make such crap that is always flat. And have always gotten a hangover, from even one – I'm sensitive that way. Your best bet in 'umph is the vodka, but this time i went with bourbon, made in America – it was a Manhattan made from Makers Mark.
For some reason our group became divided with the oldsters (minus me, who just crossed over to the north side of 50) up stairs and the youngsters – those under 35 – downstairs. Funny about being young – you seem to end up attracting/hanging with other young people. Or maybe the old people are just trying to avoid the stairs. But down those stairs, and "Oh, my" just doesn't do the crowd justice. It was like a modeling agency just dropped off a gaggle of good-looking people. And let me tell you, there were even some good-looking women downstairs, too. Maybe, 'umph, in an effort to cover up their sucky beer, has devised a brilliant marketing strategy. Perhaps, it will soon sweep the nation – good-looking people on TV and the Internet selling us cr@p we don't need or want. Keep your eye out for that.
One more note: this is how bad the 'umph beer is: our very own beer connoisseur extraordinaire, E-man, could not wait to flee after but one sip. This guy travels over the tri-state area in search of anyone with a tub and some hops who even mentions that he/she may someday brew a batch of suds. I think if you cut the dude, he would bleed IPA. In years past, he would run the board – that is, he would drink each beer the 'umph had to offer and beg the Masterbrewer to craft a few more for him to sample. But not this year. To this day no one is quite sure if the $hitty beer was just too much for him to handle or if Pods' rants about how he was ready to rumble, ready to eff some people up, and ready to crack some skulls, scared him off. Pods browbeat me, Reese, and Sean (sp?), Reese's friend, into covering his back. Me in a rumble? Sure, you can picture Reese knocking some heads around, and maybe Pods. But me? I've always been more of a lover than a fighter. I was praying that perhaps the fighting would turn into a debate – it is Princeton, after all.
It was getting late and the modeling agency had collected all of their pretty people and the 'umph beer was certainly not getting any better. We were down one G-man and one E-man, and Tamp was pulling chalks, too. It turns out that Tamp had a 9AM soccer game and he wanted to look and feel his best – sometimes I hate friggin' models. The fate of TDDoC Day 10 hung in the balance without these key players. We were in the middle of that Clash song – "Should We Stay or Should We Go". Who would do the heavy lifting when the chips were down? Would Day 10 end in an inglorious fizzle? A sound no one could hear.
But a voice beckoned us to continue, and it kinda went like this:
Bluto: Hey! What's all this laying around stuff? Why are you all still laying around here for? Stork: What the hell are we supposed to do, ya moron? We're all expelled. There's nothing to fight for anymore. D-Day: [to Bluto] Let it go. War's over, man. Wormer dropped the big one. Bluto: What? Over? Did you say "over"? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no! Otter: [to Boon] Germans? Boon: Forget it, he's rolling. Bluto: And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough... [thinks hard of something to say] Bluto: The tough get goin'! Who's with me? Let's go! [Bluto runs out, alone; then returns] Bluto: What the fuck happened to the Delta I used to know? Where's the spirit? Where's the guts, huh? This could be the greatest night of our lives, but you're gonna let it be the worst. "Ooh, we're afraid to go with you Bluto, we might get in trouble." Well just kiss my ass from now on! Not me! I'm not gonna take this. Wormer, he's a dead man! Marmalard, dead! Niedermeyer... Otter: Dead! Bluto's right. Psychotic... but absolutely right. We gotta take these bastards. Now we could do it with conventional weapons, but that could take years and cost millions of lives. No, I think we have to go all out. I think that this situation absolutely requires a really futile and stupid gesture be done on somebody's part! Bluto: We're just the guys to do it. D-Day: [stands up] Yeah, I agree. Let's go get 'em. Boon: Let's do it. Bluto: [shouting] "Let's do it"!
Well, after that rousing, most inspirational message, we were energized to trek onto the next bar and the next bar. First, it was the A&B – that's Alchemist and Barrister, to those who aren't in the know. It was loud and packed, but that didn't deter those who didn't wuss out after the 'umph. We order pretzels and dipped them in ultra-hot wasabi mustard – even CPL knows not to do this out of the fear of colon and rectum damage. Ska, Pods, and I have one Dogfish Head; BB stays with Red Wine (he is just so classy). Can't comment on the rest. And BB keeps mentioning – to the point of rubbing it in our face – how he will be hung over in a Nassau Inn bed, while we'll have to drive home, yack in our own toilets, and then CLEAN THEM UP. BB really knows how to a hit a man below the belt.
And did I mention that the A&B was packed when we got there at midnight? Well, I'm saying it again, then. And while the people were attractive, it wasn't quite up to the 'umph. If the 'umph were Playboy, A&B would be Penthouse. I hope that none of you are letting your children read these stats – really, you should know better.
We were one and done at A&B and ready to go home. NOT. Well, maybe there smart ones were. We gave Reese the obligatory walk up Witherspoon to not too far from where her car was parked and then headed North – to the Ivy Tavern, all the while reminiscing how cool BB used to be when he lived CPL $hitting distance from downtown P'ton. On the way, Pods is still juiced up and ready to rumble and to prove his point, almost drags Ska down to the ground for a beatdown. Cooler heads prevail and Pods sheepishly apologizes for the assault, but we understand – there is no shortage of D0uche Bags (DBs) in Princeton. At this time, it was BB, Pods, Ska, and Goettle (yes, Goettle) remaining. Sneakers O'toole was long gone. The rest of you were probably tucked in your beds dreaming about how cool BB was when he lived in P'ton. We got to actually hear about it – on the entire walk from Witherspoon to the Ivy Tavern. There was the time that Mick and Keith needed a place to crash and lucky for them, BB was there. And the time, back before Pearl Jam got famous and was pan–handling in Palmer Square, that BB threw two bits in their pathetic cup and told them to keep their chin up. Ah, yes. Those were indeed special days.
But they are far in the past, now that BB has gone all corporate on us. At the Ivy Tavern, it is loud – really loud. I don't even need my hearing aide. And it's a $3 cover to enter the joint. Despite all his charm and his storied past, BB cannot talk the toll collector into letting us in for a discount. And once inside, BB makes a bee-line for the pool table, leaving Pods, Ska, and I to fend for ourselves. If 'umph was Playboy and A&B Penthouse, the Ivy Tavern was Melrose Place (or maybe the OC, but certainly not Beverly Hills 90210). This place could one of the circles of heaven – for Pods. Young women drinking 16-oz tall boys of PBR (Pabst Blue Ribbon). Many were drinking the PBR pounders with EACH HAND. Holy Moly. And the music was straight out Rock 'n Roll from the '70s (1970s – were not that old). It was a very young crowd, there. The only folks older than us were in the band – and perhaps, only the drummer. We figured that was why he was sitting.
We wanted to spread the word of this place to BB, but despite our best reconnoitering efforts, we were not able to find him. It looked like he ditched us for a Nassau Inn bed. A beer for Pods, a beer for Ska, a beer and a coke for me, and lo and behold, out of the ether, appears BB - a beer for him too. The band winds up at around 1:30AM. The crowd thins out and so do we.
But are we done yet? Not with Hoagie Haven next door. Pods tries to clean the floor there with a bottled herbal tea and he and BB order some greasy concoction. Ska and I split a good ol' fashioned spicy hot cold-cut sub. We finish it on the benches outside and note that this year the Princeton Police force are not racing up and down Nassau Street looking for jaywalkers. We bid adieu – not AMF – to BB and Pods and head back down/up Nassua St to our cars. After some chit chat about how Secret Committee will no doubt overrule our desire to hold Day 11 at the Franklin Corner Tavern, Ska and I head our respective ways. But my bladder is a bit full and I'm feeling quite mad about the desertions of people who will remain nameless (but we all know who they are). God, sometimes P'ton pi$$es me off, so I did … around the car so no one would take note. We pulled out of P'ton after 2:15AM and I got home a bit after 3:00 AM. Oh, What A Night, In Late December Back in …
Day 10 Stats -- Stat Harder by Yo
Ah, my favorite night…the Princeton Pub Crawl ! A unusually warm, balmy night on hand, it seemed to bring out the most of the TDDoC family tree – a dysfunctional family at best, but we get along. – With Mrs. Yo coming out for her annual point (and my hopeful ride home), we immediate are confronted with the theme of this year’s Pub Crawl, “Massive Pub Crawl Confusion (hereby known as “MPCC”) – Triggering the MPCC was the unexpected closing down of the Princeton Sports Bar (aka the Annex), due, according to Reese’s unnamed church rumor network, to Massive Underage Drinking (MUD) and one underage klutz that fell down the stairwell, drink in hand, only to be tossed back up the stairwell on his head by the bouncer, leaving him no option other than to sue the place for $30M, shutter its doors, hence tossing the entire TDDoC into scheduling mayhem! This conflict was correctly forecasted by your’s truly during early Pton pub scouting report, however, no corrective action report (CAR) was initiated in time to resolve, other than Thursday’s night’s secret committee meeting at Killarney’s, which took place in parallel with flirting with the Jim Bean shot girls, hence the reason (and a legitimate one!) for the in-flight confusion. For the first time in TDDoC history, we are faced with not one, but TWO starting gates – JB Winberries or upscale Mediterra wine bar– a no-doubt about it, deliberate attempt to separate the snooty, affluent wine-lovers among us, from the grizzly TDDoC beer guzzlers, which is exactly why Mertz (according to rumor), was the only one at Winberries, with Cory wingman, saying “WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY” ?? Wine over hops this year, brothers.
At Mediterra, wonderful conversation flowed along the elegant high-top tables, from the likes of Benny and Gman, discussing the flavor of next year’s Charm’s Blow-pop, to the all-female cycling committee, discussing how much salad, wine and water to consume prior to next year’s Charity rides. POD’s arrives with his Daytona jacket on, somehow sneaking in a few loaf’s from the bread-carving station at the entrance. A surprise appearance by Patty Noonan, who was no doubt forming a TDDoC all-Irish subcommittee as a back-up plan in case too many depart for Denver. Lisa Eman and Rita gladly offer up their Bread and Salad left-over’s to Mr. and Mrs. Yo, allowing us to donate that unspent money to the Christmas carolers that we ran into on the way out. Yes, we were “Caroled” to by a posse of teens from the Princeton High Choir (or at least that was their cover-up story), which REALLY brought on the cheer (and salad donations) as we crossed over busy Palmer Square to a crowded Yankee Doodle Room, once again occupied first by the local Outer Circle Ski Club (OCSC), which seemed to have reduced their membership by 50% due in no short order to last year’s over-crowding debacle with us, resulting in the heavy-manned TDDoC crew out-muscling the skinny OCSC membership away from any lingering bar-stools with a large offensive front, spearheaded by Mertz, Goettle and SKA. Great work dudes, we can count on some breathing room at this stop moving forward! Once again, the SAME bar tenders are there, who have remained employed as under-paid bar-tenders/waiter/waitress/table & puke cleaners at least since Pods was tossed out there in his high-school years for stealing too many bottles of JD and stolen muffins at the front desk. The Tap Room always seems to be the joyous “mother-lode” of all TDDoC stops…it’s full headcount, endless Christmas cheer, home of countless fabled and untold TDDoC stories. As we toss down the drafts, under the watch of Norman Rockwell’s priceless bar painting, I could not have felt any happier being there, surrounded in such great conversations on all sides. Martha and Marty join in the festivities, Skugi and Mrs. Skugi, Katherine, Janec, Russ and Lynn, all making their rounds…we are here in full force! Sandor bellies up next to us, scotch in hand, discussing his future holiday trip to South Carolina, where he is considering a new career teaching a class called “The Basics of Amazon Drone-Engineering, Followed by Drinks at My Place” at the local community college. A novel idea indeed. Erin and Ed are making their rounds, Rebecca, Tamps, SKA, Goettle, Gman, Su no doubt discussing the trials and tribulations of the future of TDDoC. Gman, who is finishing his grueling MBA, revealed that he has no plans to lead Lockheed to future Aegis technological world-domination, but did confess that he will use what he learned in his teamwork and scheduling classes to correct future TDDoC MPCC aberrations. Can’t think of a better executive choice to lead this pack!
We stumble over to Triumph Brewery, the prime “no-cover” choice to replace Princeton Sports bar, as we head down the ally way entrance and get situated with choice real-estate near the front entrance. Our lovely waitress “Amanda”, a tall, think dark haired beauty, immediately takes drink orders, as the rest of the crew pile in. I ask Cory about his “Tat” on the arm, to which he gave us detailed visual’s on, revealed a near-naked lady creature thing, replied in reference to its origins of some fabled gothic artist that was related to Lady Gaga, Rembrandt and a snake…I think…with a final quote to the effect of “I do whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want and however the hell I want to” …well because I still live at home..and oh, yeah, Mom didn’t really approve of the Tat!”, to which dad Mertz replied, in somewhat disheveled shoulder shrugging, eye-rolling gesture that clearly spelled “WHYYYYYYYYYYYY?!!” ?!! Ah, the joys of 20 something rebellions with Tats that drink with family and us during the holidays..gives you the warm fuzzies! As Pods and Rebecca wonder the upstairs and downstairs aimlessly, looking for anything but us, we start to ponder the nationality of our long locked “Amanda”…this begins with Al Janec calling her “Pocahontas”, to which she replies “close -very close.. but no cigar you stupid Ski-Cap-headed shithead…cause what I’m really made of is part Italian, mostly Dominican and a 5% of native American Indian…which YOU will never get to see, so now shove that down your throat with that Honey Blonde…and oh, May I get you another ?”. I’m in love already. She actually turns out to be one the nicest servers on the tour, even letting all of us touch and feel those native long, dark locks of hers (except for Janec of coarse). Later, as the buzz really starts to set in, Erin comes to me with her Chocolate Martini in hand, and asks ME to put it up for consignment, as she and hubby Ed are pondering an early exit, to which Rebecca spotted from a distance, snatching that martini from my hand like a lighting fast toad and says’ to Erin – “stay put Bitch...You ain’t going anywhere, cause you and me, cow-girl, we’re gonna get toasted!!” This didn’t go over too well with hubby Ed, who was now demoted to DD for the evening, with Erin realizing more Christmas shopping will be in order for hubby…at least this year.
Tamps & Rita return from a high-command ordered scouting trip to Witherspoon Grill (WG) and A&B (alchemist and barrister)…to which Rita (lead spy) say’s upon return “no doubt, it’s Witherspoon!”. So, Marty/Martha/Yo and Mrs. Yo make an early departure to secure seats at the partially empty, high-end WG bar, complete with a few scantily clad blonde party girls latched onto wealthy Pton men, to which my instincts on this lame scenario said to text Tamps – “we’re here, w/ stools (and some scenery)“..to which a return text arrives, with a last second change order that it’s now A&B, hereby overruling lead spy Rita (Oh boy, paybacks will be a bitch). Ah, the MPCC saga continues! Bar order is cancelled, one last glance at the lacey blonde party girls, as we head out to secure a central table at A&B in the center of 21 something’s(?) tossing down cheap beer. Martha notices the orders of hot pretzels scattered about the wild revelers, and so it goes - we order a batch too, which turns out to be the “Massive Pub Crawl Hit of the Night” (MPCHoN)…many orders are flowing, complete with the nastiest nose-bleed hot mustard on this side of the Delaware! We’re toasted, surrounded by drunken comrades, Reese and Celeste sharing a seat next to me, eating the best damn fresh baked hot pretzels known to human kind…please tell me what could be better ?!! The rest of the crew takes up a strong-hold position between our table and the bar, forcing many ladies to “Twerk” their way through the entrenched encampment. Ah, the temperature is rising fast! Droid cameras are a buzz, Selfies are flying, Facebook’s uploads beaming across the overloaded WiFi network at A&B, abuzz, with pics of us drunken lads flying about cyber-space! Rumor has it Mark Zuckerberg was awakened at 2am to field a frantic phone call from his VP of Photo Surveillance – a quick Google search on this topic turns up evidence of BitCoin trace-feeds and nude photographic material…all linked to Pod’s mobile phone. This could well be the end for him.
I glance at Marty, who is working on finishing his high-octane shot of Cognac French Brandy…I take a few hits to help him… then begin to uncontrollably pound the table 4 times, to which Reese said “YO, you stupid lush, stop this behavior immediately before I smack you and bring SKA over here to fart”! I settled down immediately, the thought of that last piece too painful to imagine, but continued my reunion with the Cognac, trying very hard to control my auto-immune, spastic gag-reflux reaction to every sip of that rocket fuel. Life couldn’t be any better. We all devour the remnants of the hot pretzels, with Martha and Reese taking turns licking the bottom of the bowl, hoping for one last surviving crumb or two to savior until next year. Billy Bob is joyously soaking it all in, as he toasts to me from the corner, along with many other LMCO Newtowner’s, pondering a less than certain future, with whatever that future holds, we non and ex-Newtowner’s will take this moment to say “Thank You for your service, presence and contributions to this great establishment called TDDoC. May it never end! “ A memorable night was had by all !
Day 10 Stats by Reese
This year things were shaken up a little bit with a bit of a Choose Your Own Adventure for the start of the evening. I loved those books as a kid. Mertz chose Winberies and then turned to the directed page to discover that he’d be sitting alone drinking Anchor Christmas Ale for hours.
I chose the Mediterra start, and was joined by Celeste. We get talked into a bottle of wine by the server. It was probably not the best strategy for a pub crawl, but hey, we picked our action and couldn’t turn back and choose again, that would be cheating. We order some food and Lisa, Eman, Rita, Tamp, and Benny arrive and join our community table. Mediterra has really good food. Cheese plates, falafel, veggies in a tagine, and fall off the bone lamb shank all arrive and are enjoyed by the Mediterra crew.
Mertz receives a text message, and chooses to open it, revealing a photo of the food the Mediterra crew is eating. He storms over to Mediterra and finds the large masses of our crew, but only two beers on tap. It later turns out that Sophia, Russ, and some others actually were at Winberries, but couldn’t fight their way through the friendly Westminster Choir men to get to Mertz at the bar, and retreated to the dining room for Stop 1.
Stop number two was the Yankee Doodle Tap room. The only night of the year that this place is ever crowded is the night of the TDDoC Pub Crawl. Regardless of date, the stars and planets align in a way only the Astro people can explain, the Princeton Ski Club appears in the Tap Room at the exact moment the TDDoC crew arrives. This causes the normally slow service at the bar to come to a standstill, as the bartenders stand agape at the crowds demanding drinks.
I wrestle my way to the bar and while waiting for my next drink I talk to Benny. We discover that we’ve been walking by each other every day for years in Princeton but didn’t recognize each other without the Twelve Drinking Days of Christmas Goggles (TDDoCG, not to be confused with Google Glass, Apple Antennae, or Samsung Sombreos). Our crew continues to fight for the attention of the bartenders, and once we’ve pushed the Ski Club out and taken over 51% of the bar, it’s announced that it is time to move on.
After much lamentation and gnashing of teeth over the controversial closure of the Annex/Sotto/PrincetonSportsBar, we descend upon Triumph Brewing Company as Stop 3. They have magnanimously forgone the cover charge that has prevented the TDDoC from visiting in years, which we all toasted with a Winter Warmer beer. Some of us hang out in the lower bar, where the Espresso Martinis are better than those made upstairs, and others stay in the in-between, greeting all who pass on the stairs.
In 2012, the Alchemist & Barrister sent a sentry ahead to discover the time of our arrival and then closed the kitchen just minutes before our drunken souls arrived demanding all the pretzels and nachos in the land. This year we thwarted the spy sent by the A&B and arrived promptly at 11. There are people everywhere – on both sides of the alley, filling the garden terrace, and smothering the bar. Yo and Adrian have secured a table in the middle of the inner bar. Hot pretzels with horseradish mustard arrive in a steady stream, a generous gift from Dionysus, approving our twelve nights of merriment and spirits. Such a feast only tastes this good after a night of much drinking.
We are all enjoying our bounty of pretzels when I feel a tap on my shoulder. It is a boy insisting that I’m in his seat. I blink at him confused, and when he offers that I could keep the seat if I sat on his lap, I quickly vacated and retreated to the bar. Celeste is glaring at the boy as he boasts of his rudeness and before we know what has happened, she has bumped into him, dumping ice cold water on him and “accidentally” clocking him with her fist in her attempt to regain her balance. A huge cheer erupts!
And thus, the time to leave A&B has arrived. They are definitely going to send better scouts next year. I part company with Pods, Ska, Goettle, and Billy Bob, who are on a mission to the Ivy and Hoagie Haven, determined to make it into a 5 stop crawl. I watch them fade into the distance, their shouts echoing through the darkness.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
TDDoC 2013: Day 9 Stats by Eman
Day Nine was at Killarney’s Publick House in scenic rural Hamilton, NJ. This scenic town was of course founded by a group of Irish immigrants, who moved to New Jersey to escape the persecution of the ruling class of Ireland, who insisted that every year residents must go to happy hours 12 days in a row before Christmas. Why the “k” in “Publick”? I just don’t know, but then again, why is there a “k” in “know”?
The Publick House has come a long way from its roots. Today, this charming adult coffee shop serves up delicious dishes made from wild game, extinct birds of prey, and reptile roadkill. If you’re looking for some delicious Irish nachos, well then you’re going to need to go back to Day 1 and visit the Firkin Tavern. Its distinct Irish style was seen clearly in the plate after plate of hamburgers, nachos, wings, and quesadillas that were delivered to the TDDoC contingent. Without nachos and wings, the Irish clearly would not have been able to survive the famine of 1740.
The attendees are clearly mostly confused. Why? No stats have been published from the previous night. Why? WWHHHHHHYYYYYY???? Apparently some person impersonating Pods had volunteered to do the previous day’s stats, but in fact Pods’ email had been hacked and it was not him. The NSA is still investigating this security breach. There is scant evidence to find the perpetrator, but the one piece of evidence that officials have is that apparently the imposter also said something about the TDDoC being lame. Initial suspicions lead back to a certain former member of the TDDoC who went by a code name using all capital letters, but investigations continue. #mo
The attendees have huddled around a table in front of the bar, instead of the usual bullpen area behind the bar. The bullpen area is of course traditionally favored since it offers optimal viewing of the mayor of Killarney’s drinking more and more, and getting dangerously closer every moment to falling to the ground. A sighting of the mayor does occur later though, as he pushes and shoves his way through the TDDoC crowd to get out the front door, with a clear look of “I’m going to heave” on his face.
Plate after plate of food is ordered. Sandor has a huge plate of appetizers and is bravely battling through them. However, in the end, just like Monday at JoJo’s with the nacho plate, Sandor comes up short. “I’m not the man I used to be” was his summary of the experience. Trent is also soundly defeated by a plate of “mac and pork”, which is like a complete pork sandwich over top of a big wad of mac and cheese. Eman orders the death/body bag/carcass/cadaver burger, which is a hamburger with cheese steak, bacon, pork roll, and an egg on top. Not to be missed, unless you plan on living past the age of 50. Amato makes his first appearance of the year. The waitress comes up to him and says “Is there anything I can get for you Ron?”. When asked about his familiarity with the waitress, Ron offers only “I get around”. The bar has Sweet Baby Jesus on tap, which is a peanut butter porter. Nice, although it quickly kicks. In the “that’s not news” department, Su mentions that she hates the TDDoC.
It looks like the Rookie of the Year competition may come down to Rose’s daughter Kim, or potentially Rita if the Comite Secreto runs the analytics and determines that her Rookie status has not been voided due to occasional past year outings. Ska continues his quest to win the Warmest Man competition. During most nights he has kept on his jacket (fully zipped) and scarf, with not a hint of sweat. This as opposed to Gman, who becomes drenched at the mere sight of a chicken wing.
Eman suddenly realizes that Reese has not yet shown, giving him the opportunity to potentially take over the longest current TDDoC attendance streak title from her. He vows to keep an eye out for her in the parking lot, and going “Tanya Harding” on her legs to keep her from entering and getting a point. Of course a few moments later Eman has completely forgotten this devious plan and Reese walks in. Eman does confess the plan to her, and Reese shows her fascination with the plan by sharing “thanks for not beating me up.” Eman looks up and finds this creepy man across the way giving him a disturbing stare. Oh, wait, it’s Cole, and he’s not creepy. Well, for the most part he’s not. The look certainly was, though. It’s the look of “I’m going to kill someone in this bar, and I don’t know who yet, and…oh wait, it’s that guy over there”. Fortunately it was Cole, and not Mike the Homicidal Maniac, because if it were Mike tHM, he would have had the look AND that thought. Earlier in the day Sophia had expressed deep disappointment that Mike tHM had not been at the LEB the night before. Sophia didn’t show up tonight, so perhaps that was the only reason she was coming to the TDDoC.
Ska has met some new women…wait, it’s just the Jim Beam Honey shot girls doing a little marketing for the new Jim Beam Honey. They offer up free shots for several members of the crew, and they all report that it tastes delightful….ly awful. Whose idea was this mess? It tastes like Winnie the Pooh spilled a little bourbon in his honeypot. Now hopquila….that’s an idea. Yo engages the Honey girls in some banter on the latest David Blaine magic show and they are mesmerized. If Yo actually knew how to pull off the magic tricks himself, he’d be on the cover of People magazine.
Mertz shows up and regales the crew with stories of shopping at Victoria’s Secret with this wife. I had him pegged as more of a tighty whitey guy than silk and lace. Reese expresses disappointment that Mertz has chosen not to wear his Santa suit. He probably has something red and lacey and silky on underneath though.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
TDDoC 2013: Day 7 Stats by Goettle
965 New York Avenue Trenton, NJ 08638 609/ 695-9590
Day 7 Stats:
Made it through another Day Seven. At Dacey's. In Morrisville. Dacey's is what every neighborhood bar should be. Friendly, warm, relaxing. Filled with good cheer and good beer.
We had a rather large crew for a Tuesday evening – it seems like it was Famly Day at the TDDoC. Not in any particular order, there were Sophia and her sister Teresa; G-man with Su, Julian (who has recovered very nicely from his bump on the noggin), and Andrew; the E-mans - E–man, Lisa E-man, and Trent; Dave and El Chorba and daughter; Mertz and Corey Mertz; Helen, Pods, Yo, Reese, Scugi, Tamp, Benny, Felicia, Rebecca, Erin, Ed, Art, Ska, and Goettle.
I'm not sure I've ever seen so much food at a non-X-mas Eve TDDoC gathering. You couldn't swing a dead chicken wing in there without hitting some ranch dressing. Wings, pasta, sandwiches, burgers, sliders… you name it, they had it, and we ate it. It was fun watching Pods and G-man do their eating tricks. Pods could fit an entire unplucked, raw chicken wing into his mouth and voila… he pulled out a fluffy white rabbit with at least two limbs intact. And no magic words were required. And G-man… he would stand near a basket of hot wings and then (imagine the sound of drum roll) begin to glow, beads of sweat glistening in the soft warm light. Ah yes, a sight to behold – mere words cannot begin to paint the picture.
And finally we almost got to play that game that is sweeping through the nation - "Who's your favorite Kardashian?" Unfortunately, we are not exactly the trendy twerky hep-cats we used to be. And not all of us knew how to play. Pods' favorite was the 1972 Datsun Kardashian, with bucket seats and a Hemi – I guess we'll have to be more explicit next time – the point of the game is name your favorite useless Kardashian.
Still, this edition of the TDDoC has been missing at least a few of the more prominent members. We're talking about Big Lou and CPL (Crack Pipe Larry). The season is just not the same without Big Lou's rants about how lame we are and how every place we go, everything we do is just plain LAME.
Sure, we are still in his thoughts as evidenced by a recent a Big Lou Facebook post: "I hear from a good friend that one of those twelve drinking day losers insulted me in their daily email . I don't read that bore blog and don't get the email. It does explain why I don't go to that borefest anymore. AMF!"
In Big Lou's eyes we’ve been demoted from LAME to BOREFEST – if only he’d come out to see for himself – we are still as lame as ever. At least he ended his post with “Arrivaderci Mother Friend (AMF)”. I guess we’ll have to solace in his kind and respectful sign-off.
CPL – what to say? It's not like some of the evenings have not been customized to suit his commuting needs. Yes, perhaps driving more than 35 yards off of Rte 1 to attend Big Fish or the Cheesecake Factory is a bit much to ask of a man of such importance. Or picking a PA place that is $hitting distance from his place of residence is also insufficient to satisfy his needs. You are probably wondering how we know CPL's "$hitting distance." There are many stories … Pull up a toilet (preferably a comfortable one) and prepare to be regaled. It all started when CPL was a young boy. Many of us have long since passed the "diaper phase" of our development, but CPL has always been fascinated by what can be deposited into diapers. As the years passed, he has accumulated more knowledge of this activity. In fact, CPL, never one to brag, has become a world-renowned expert in human excretions from below the waist and above the thigh. What he knows about these things can fill all the toilets in the greater tri-state area. In fact, I'm sure he is conducting another of his experiments while you are reading this. The man is prolific. In fact, many of you are still wondering how Pods was able to pull a rabbit out of his gullet. Pods himself is clueless. But somewhere in a bathroom stall in a pathetic Central New Jersey establishment, CPL is smiling, for in his latest experiment, he has pushed the boundaries of quantum entanglement to greater heights. Yes, the remnants of that chicken wing that Pods ate last night have just been flushed.
And you thought Christmas had no more miracles to offer.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
TDDoC 2013: Day 6 Stats by Sophia
Day 6 Stats: Jo Jo’s. I turned into Jo Jo’s parking lot – and that’s the last time I’ll bother to do that during the Twelve Days. I got there a little late expecting a nice crowd but there were only three there - Reese, Russ, & Yo. I think. Maybe. It could have been three other people, but it was defnitely three. Although a fourth, Erin, was leaving as I entered and said that Rebecca had already left. Is there a point for leaving the earliest? (I hope not.) No Scugi, who I have missed for all of these days so far. I hear he has been around but I have been there every night! Sort of. Well not really. The crowd did eventually grow into a decent Jo Jo's bunch and I had fun. There were the Emans – sitting in the corner eating only THEIR pizza, Gman flying solo, Goettle, Tamps, Rita, Ska, Pods, and Benny. I thought I saw Sandor but, well, it’s day 6 and who can keep track?** Boo hoo for anyone who decided to skip it. There was talk around the bar that no one from the super-secret committee was there last night and that really confused me since I thought they were all there, or mostly there, or that the committee of one was at least there. So I guess they really are super-secret. I was going to recommend Grey Goose as the liquor of the day in deference to "6 geese-a-laying", but I forgot. The TDDoC Day Six fatigue is really starting to show - I noticed that even my lower-math skills were deteriorating when it took 20 minutes to decide about leaving a stray $5 on the bar and how to pay for the pizza. I don’t know what could possibly go with "7 swans-a-swimming" as a liquor of the day.
I was working the crowd for a possible Day Seven location of Dacey's Pub - I even tried bribing Benny. We'll see if that worked if and when 1) Dacey's is approved by Tajny Komitet and 2) he shows (or doesn't). I know it's a LONG way from New Jersey across the bridge to PA but it’s well worth it on this night. The DRJTBC has even called in extra salt trucks and plows just for the occasion. But if you knew what I thought about the DRJTBC…
Russ, Pods & I left kind of early to go next door to buy our Mega $$$ lottery tickets and I thought that would get me out of doing stats, aka penance, but no. The stats gods were not so easily sidetracked. There were some TDDoCers spread out along the bar that I didn't get to talk to, even with my roaming Dacey's boosting. But but don't feel left out - check the "x" next to your name. You were there. I hear that the TDDoC points are the one thing that are not screwed with. But I’m becoming convinced that about 98% of the stuff I hear about is all bu11, and maybe that is a conservative estimate (maybe not maybe). And last but not least a reminder: women produce only 60% as much alcohol dehydrogenase, the enzyme that neutralizes booze, as men do. Especially if you’re drinking bourbon.
That explains a lot.
**Editor's note: She did see Sandor.
Monday, December 16, 2013
TDDoC 2013: Day 5 Stats by Rebecca
Day 5 Stats:
The night began very slowly for me. I arrived at 5:30 and the first other TDDOC'er to arrive was Barb at 6:00. She was dismayed that she was the first one there, exclaiming "I thought this was supposed to be a fun happy hour !". Trying to make it fun for her, I introduced her to 2 locals that I had run into and then darted to the bathroom to make some WHYYYYYY calls. Eventually, Russ arrived to save me from Barb's rants and raves. They fell into a vivid discussion on what life will be like in Colorado. Erin and Ed arrive and also want to know where everyone is. I'm starting to get a complex. Am I not good enough for these people?? The E-mans and G-mans, Tamp and Rita arrive along with newcomers Joan and Sandy.
Everyone is happy now so it's time to move on -- off to the Farnsworth House.
We take over the bottom floor of this historic establishment and the drinks and food are flowing. Several other TDDoCers are already there and recommend the southern tier chocolat. Reese sits with the Rodgers' and they have a gourmet meal. This is unusual on a TDDOC night, but maybe they had planned on winning the mega millions. If they did, the next 7 nights are on them. Gary is making his rounds to the different groups of diners and picking off their plates. His usual line of "you weren't going to eat that, were you?" is heard frequently. Fatee, the bartender, does an excellent job of keeping us hydrated for he knows that we have a long walk soon and we will need to be well nourished. I bump into my Bordentown drinking buddy Tony and share some polite conversation. Tony and several others end up following us to the last watering hole of the night. It's 8:30 and we are off to the HOB.
The Heart of Bordentown, aka, the HOB is THE dive bar in town. It's like Cheers, it's where the locals go. It's where the bartenders from all of the other bars in town come to have a pint. The place is hopping when we get there. It seems as though Sandor and Scugi and a few others decided to start and end their evening there. We take up the front and left side of the bar and are quickly served by Lane and Jamie. A group decides to try the shot of the night, it's only a dollar!! I think Lisa's face tells the story of how that went. They should have tried the Long Island Iced Teas, Katherine and I look VERY HAPPY....
The next shot Jamie offered us was an Eggnog. This one went down much easier. The jukebox was cranking, conversations and drinks were flowing and the festivities lasted until the wee hours of the morning. I heard many folks say what a great time they had and couldn't wait to come back to Bordentown again. A first for me this pub crawl, was no one complained about Ska being too loud. The acoustics at the places we went were favorable for Ska. His usual booming voice could not be heard above the other revelers of the night. As evidenced by this photo Ska was very happy to be allowed to be himself for a change.
Friday, December 13, 2013
TDDoC 2013: Day 4 Stats by Reese
It is now Day 5, southbound:
Bordentown!
Jester's - Farnsworth - HOB mini-crawl
www.jesterscafe.net
www.farnsworthhouse.com
www.hobtavern.com
City Streets
Ah, City Streets. The bright shining star of a multitude of strip malls that all look the same. Having learned from previous years attempting to eat the cardboard chip happy hour chicken fingers, I arrive late after a fantastic meal at a Princeton byo. I walk in and see the loyal TDDoC crew taking up the front ¼ of the bar and table area.
Chaty is at the bar trying to explain to the elders about Twitter. Ska insists that Chaty is “live-texting.” Chaty rolls his eyes and explains, once again, that they make phones that can connect to this thing called the internet. It has also been discovered that someone has the @tddoc twitter account. The last tweet was in 2009, and the photo is Eman on a stick in a poinsettia. The elders have sent the mailchimp out to find the owner of the account and shake the password out of them, but there is a frozen banana stand along the way, and the mailchimp distracts easily. A long conversation about hashtags ensues: how they can be used, why you would search for them, and no, standard grammar rules do not apply to hashtags. #effthat
I had some pretty serious conversations with some of you, despite our need to shout to be heard. And City Streets is effin LOUD. All caps don’t quite even describe it well. City Streets is clearly operating under the delusion that they are and outdoor amphitheater that holds 55,000 people. Consequently, everyone is shouting at each other to be heard, and many a TDDoCer is complaining of a sore throat this morning. They should give out lozenges instead of mints at the door. #whatdidyousay
Pods witnesses me handing a ziploc baggie to both Sophia and Milot - and immediately starts shouting about illegal activity. They were cookies, Pods. Really. Don’t talk about it loudly in public. We don’t need the fuzz involved, confiscating the cookies. #notreallycookies
At one point the Great Chevy’s incident of 2011 comes up and the edges of the room lose focus, there’s a rushing sound between my ears, and the next thing I know the random dude sitting in the middle of the bar by himself is looking at me as though he’s afraid of me. I’m still not sure what happened, but it was similar to Madeline Kahn’s moment of rage. Damn that Yvette.(http://youtu.be/92IkddsjtAA) #flamesonthesideofmyface #chevyssucks
“DJ Gash” takes over the loud entertainment playing a series of loud, depressing whiny songs (you know your minds are all in the same place mine is after hearing that unfortunate name that ironically has nothing to do with the advertisements for sexual aids in the women’s room stalls). Once he played an upbeat current top 40 song, but that was quickly replaced by another whiner advising us all to end it now. #soloudwecanthearska
Last night there was a performance of a new play, “Waiting for Bobo” Here’s a glimpse of what you missed if you left early, there may be a repeat performance next week:
Tamp: Where shall we go? Ska: Not far. Tamp: Oh yes, let’s go far away from here. Ska: We can’t. Tamp: Why not? Ska: We have to come back to-morrow. Tamp: What for? Ska: To wait for Bobo. Tamp: Ah. (pause) He didn’t come? Ska: No. Tamp: And now its too late. Ska: We should go. Tamp: Yes, lets. (They do not move)
TDDoC 2013: Day 3 Stats by Tamps
I get out of work in time to make it to rush hour traffic on Rt 1. The 3 lanes of red tail lights in front of me and the 3 lanes of white headlights of the oncoming traffic remind me of the Polish flag and have me wondering why we didn't go to Larry's Eurobar tonight, where I would half way through a plate of perogies by now. But that is for another night; tonight our destination is Big Fish. The only single bar we have been to for the past 5 years. It was like returning home. Big Fish for years was the home of Wednesday Night Drinking (WND). I am not sure why we stopped going there, but I blame CPL. Where else in central New Jersey can you go where all the women bartenders have tattoos of their favorite Pennsylvania football teams? It was TDDoC family night. The Gmans, Emans, and Goettles dinned in the bar area. Mr and Mrs Milot, and Mr and Mrs Howard also joined us. Different parenting strategies were discussed by G and Lynn and it was agreed they while they love their children; they are kicking them out of the house as soon as they can. In another approach entirely, Trent Eman is at the bar, eating. Alot. Also, he is reviewing physics exam problems; so I guess it is OK. The physical question was "are you heavier on the equator or the North Pole?" The only real conclusion was that Big Lou is heavier than most people, anywhere.
Only three days gone and fatigue is already beginning to settle in. Sleepless nights and greasy happy hour food is taking its toll. The healthiest thing about this is the drinking. The FDA has a food pyramid of what they recommend you should eat. The TDDoC food pyramid is a little different. At the top is a needle spire, which represents fruit, vegetables, whole grains and legumes. Below that is salt, hot pepper, and buffalo sauce. The next level is fried food, grease and fats. The bottom level, what is consumed the most, is beer. BB had 2 dozen oysters at Big Fish because he knows that if he goes to Denver with Lockheed, the only oysters he will be able to get are of the Rocky Mountain variety.
Our favorite bartender Danielle is a classic bartender. Someone you can spill your gut too and get advice, in part because she loves to gossip. I consulted her about whether I should accept the offer from Lockheed to go to Denver. This is the response that I was told to give by Danielle to the Relocation Transition Declaration Confirmation Citation.
_ I accept the offer.... X I decline the offer....
Comments: Eff that______
TDDoC 2013: Day 2 Stats by Goettle
Now that we got that out of the way we can re-cap the previous evening's goings on and whatnot. We celebrate Day 2 at the cheesy Cheesecake Factory (CCF), adjacent to the lovely Quakerbridge Mall. In a stroke of what can only be termed as brilliance, the Greeks invented cheesecake and discovered factories just in time for the 776 BC Olympics, the first Olympics in barely recorded history. And it wasn't in the manner told to you by your parents who were told by their parents who were told by their parents, etc. Three guys - one carrying cheese, one carrying cake, and the third carrying a model for the factory that was used to build the Parthenon – so engrossed in their own little creations that they didn't notice each other until they collided at the center of the town square, sending cheese and cake way up in the air only to land on the model factory … you get the idea … well, that's just an old wives' tale. To this day no one can say for sure what the origins of cheesecake factories are. Anyway, back to those first Olympics. Cheesecakes fresh off the factory lines were awarded to winners of the footraces for people with no sense of direction, the shiniest and smoothest Festivus pole makers, and of course, the Feats of Strength champions.
So with the mall right next to the CCF, you'd think that we'd be discussing the latest fashions on display at Penny's or Macy's, but have you really paid attention to how we dress? Like we give two flying effs about how we look – except for g-man – he always wants to be the prettiest girl in the room. We dare you to tell him he's not – in fact, we double-dog dare you.
So with a an eclectic mix of beers, vittels, and cheesecakes in our bellies, we discuss current events and Sylvester Stallone movies. It's not often you find those two items in the same sentence – in fact, it could be the first time. The cinematic prowess, the overt writing and subtle dialog belie an erudite sensibility of human interpersonal relationships. Exhibit A: Cobra.
I don't mean to leave anybody out, but we had Cole, Reese, Art, Milot, D-Mile, REBECCA, Erin, Laura, Tamp, Ska, Rose, Kim (Rose's daughter), G-man with family in tow (Su, Andrew, and Julian), E-man, Lisa E-man, and Trent, and of course, Sandor. After years of lobbying, begging, cajoling, and threatening, Sandor finally got his way – a night at the CCF where he could indulge in their world-famous Key Lime cheesecake, fresh off the factory line – so fresh, that if you looked real hard, you could see where the dividing line between the cheese and the cake. One of the cool things about the CCF is the prices for the beer. In lots of places if you buy three beers and pay with a $20, you get change back. However, at the CCF, they don't want you to be bothered with carrying that annoying extra change around, so they charge you $24. I think Sandor might owe me some money.
With beer prices being what they are, Ska has been unable to hire an IT department to manage all of the idiosyncrasies of e-mail delivery to half of the mid-Atlantic population, so please forgive him if you are not getting your cherished messages in a timely manner. I, myself, did not see yesterday's stats until 10 PM, when Pheidippides delivered them on ancient papyrus. Even in the cold weather, Pheidippides wore only two togas. I explained to him that the CCF took all my drachmas, so I had nothing for him. He muttered something rude that I couldn't make out and ran the 26.2 miles back to the mail server to get the message. Before he left he gave me a nicely wrapped present .. I'm wary of to opening it, though. Perhaps, you have some advice?
Well, I have to cut these stats a bit short this morning.
TDDoC: Day 1 Stats by Eman
YES, you are right, this is incredibly lame, but it took a tough fight to beat out Joe’s Crab Shack. The good news is that this year’s real theme is Lameness, in an attempt to reel back in BIG LOU. The liquor of the day will be cheesecake martini; it’s absolutely delicious.
Now on to Day 1 stats….
Day 1 rolls in. Well, of course, Day 1 in the New Jersey time zone. For the PA TDDOC crew, it’s already Day 4. For the Sunnyvale CA team, it’s actually Day 7 of the 2014 TDDOC. Don’t be confused. It’s all perfectly logical when you consider the movements of the moon across the night sky as you go further west across the country. We’d need to use advanced calculus if we’d ever want to figure out what TDDOC day it is in Hawaii.
The Firkin is actually fairly packed, especially since not all of the customers are the TDDOC. As advertised in the Day 1 announcement, many of the customers are lumberjacks. It’s a joint night for the NJ and PA chapters, showing some rare camaraderie in a relationship often marred by shouting, shoving, and hand-to-hand combat. Mertz is fired up, as his meeting in DC ended early enabling him to race up 95 to get to the night’s festivities early. He celebrates with some sort of Fred Flintstone meat dish, with a wad of meat attached to the end of a bone. I later notice that there was apparently some sort of juice explosion from the meat that ended up on Keith’s shoulder, but at that point, it was far too late to care.
Gman and Su show up with the boys in tow. Julian and Andrew are clearly extremely excited that the TDDOC has started, so they no longer need to spend any time at home relaxing, playing with toys, and watching TV. The thrill of hanging out nightly with a group of AARP members is clear in their eyes. I did catch Julian on the payphone in the hall at one point, talking to someone named “Dyfus” or something like that, but he was probably just telling them how fun the TDDOC is. Gman reports terrorizing Celeste with discussions on how to best off oneself.
Tamps walks in and Mertz greets him with “Are you going to Denver?” Tamps yells NO so forcefully that Mertz’s beard hairs flap in the wind.
Crazsian tries to stir up some gaming fun in the Firkin game room, but can only seem to get other PA chapter members involved. All attempts to reel in NJ chapter members are met with “I’m too old”, “my back hurts”, and “I just can’t understand this new technology”.
Scugi shares some details on the latest TV shows he’s been watching, and in particular some detailed disturbing information about Walton Goggins from Justified. Apparently he’s very adept at transforming into a woman for roles on other shows via use of some sort of body armor. That sounds completely ridiculous but have Scugi show you the video. Just don’t do it alone with Scugi, though, as that would be extremely creepy.
2012 Rookie of the Year EdRod has returned. Oddly, he is not wearing the Purple Moose that he was awarded last year. EdRod boasts how he’ll be getting all 12 points this year, and then declaring that this whole thing is really lame, and then never coming again. OK, he didn’t say any of that, but I really wanted him to.
The bar is now packed with rabid Bears fans. Oh wait, they are rabid Eagles fans just rooting for somebody/anybody to beat the Cowboys. Who cares. I’m a Giants fan. Isn’t the NFL season already over?
I visit Lisa Eman and Trent in “the family bullpen”, where they are engaged in some sort of massive feast of lobster, crab & bacon mac & cheese, and spaetzle. How could they order that stuff when there are delightful Irish Nachos on the menu? Warning: Irish Nachos are something like a reuben over potato chips, which tastes good for the first few bites, then quickly evolves into a massive stomachache requiring extensive hospitalization.
Eman regales the others with tales of how many of his personal body parts have been and will continue to be extensively explored by other humans during the week.
Sophia and Michelle show up late with TDDOC newcomer Jenny in tow. Clearly at this point Jenny is the early odds-on favorite for 2013 Rookie of the Year, with a bold 1-0 lead over all other candidates.
2013 TDDoC Begins!
AS ALWAYS, IF YOU HAVE NO INTEREST AND/OR WANT TO BE REMOVED FROM DISTRIBUTION (OR WANT TO PROVIDE A DIFFERENT EMAIL ADDRESS), LET THE CHIMP KNOW.
Ahhhhh, darkness at 4:30, freezing cold air, the sweet melodies of frequent noseblows, and inescapable Christmas music in every nook and cranny of the face of the earth....it must mean....it's time for.... THE 17th ANNUAL (EXCEPT 1998) FESTIVAL OF.....THE TWELVE DRINKING DAYS OF CHRISTMAS (TDDoC)!!! This year's theme is Obamacare. Why not help out your fellow Americans by (a) drinking in a bar instead of increasing traffic on healthcare.gov and (b) subjecting your liver to a good workout to test Obamacare’s ability to fix it? What could be more American than completely neglecting your health in pursuit of a good time and complaining about your health later? Disclaimer: Actual healthcare and/or actual employment may or may not be available in some states.
START DATE: MONDAY, DEC 9 LOCATION: Firkin Tavern, Ewing, NJ, This new cutting-edge lumberjack bar in the Superfund toxic cleanup section of downtown Ewing has quickly become famous amongst the liberal social media of Trenton and Camden, and is often frequented by NSA whistleblowers, cheerleaders in hazmat suits, and extremely loud talkers. It features karaoke target practice, blown trannies, see-who-can-wait-the-longest-for-the-bartender-to-serve-them contests, and Harpoon '100 Barrel Series' Polskie Mastne (whatever that is) on tap. Note that it does have free wifi in case you want to access these guidelines during the actual event. Careful! The canal is nearby so don’t ride your car, bike, or lawnmower into it. One final warning; if you are hungry and scanning the menu and see something called “Irish Nachos”, quickly gather all women and children nearby and lead them to safe cover. Their stomachs will thank you. Legendary traditional (in other words, really lame) Day 1 spot Charlie Brown's is yet still closed due to bankruptcy due to all of the raisin bread stolen from the salad bar over the years by Crack Pipe Larry. Editor’s note: You may have seen earlier this year on 60 Minutes that it turns out that cb’s actually shut down simply because it $ucked, and the total loss in profits due to CPL’s raisin bread kleptomania was well under $1MM USD.
Rejoice that the Day 1 location has been chosen and advertised this early. This will be the last time during this event that you will be this happy.
Now for the details. For those that are new to the TDDoC, I've included the following Guidelines. For those that are familiar with the TDDoC format, you may still want to re-acquaint yourself. It's not as easy as riding a bike. It's almost as easy as drinking, but not quite.
Guidelines
1. For the purpose of the Festival, working days in which you could drink AFTER WORK are considered "Drinking Days". (I know that the term "Drinking Days" causes some controversy every year as it is easily and often argued that every day is a "Drinking Day"). Traditionally the Festival begins on the date that allows 12 "Drinking Days" to occur prior to Christmas Day - This year it's the 9th of December. Unlike other chapters throughout the country (especially those in the greater San Jose area and west of the Delaware River in general), there will be no special exceptions due to plant closings, postal holidays, moon/earth alignments or other such nonsense. The twelfth day of the event will as always occur on Dec. 24. Why? Because that helps to make this whole thing as inconvenient as possible.
2. Attendance is scored by showing up and drinking with your friends, colleagues, soon-to-be-friends, other peoples' neighbors, and assorted annoying bores. Any action to discourage someone from showing up simply because they have bad breath, poor eating manners, or are a pompous a$$ is severely frowned upon. This is good fodder for the stats (see guideline # 7). However, unwillingness to imbibe can of course be held as a strike against any otherwise worthy candidate. Agreeing to participate in an "a$$-off" is generally considered as a reasonable substitute for drinking, unless you are a man.
Tradition has it that there is a one-drink minimum to be awarded a Point. Anyone on travel during The 12 Days & gathering in the spirit of The 12 Days will, of course, be considered participants if they 1) are actually drinking and 2) submit Stats. Please note that the official TDDOC definition of "considered" is "not considered". Phoning in alone does not enable point awardance but is highly encouraged to aid the home team in stats preparation. Drinking by yourself does not count, and drinking with some casual loser work friend if that loser is not involved in the larger effort does not count either. If you want a point for drinking with that casual loser work friend, you will need to drag them out to multiple mainstream TDDOC events in order for your miserable time with them to count. Whoever has the highest Tally of Points on Day Twelve will be awarded a coveted TDDoC trophy, and, as always, be obligated to abuse those that fell short in their quest to be the champion for their lameness. Never mind that said trophy has NEVER been awarded. It sounds good on paper. Note that in lieu of said trophy, the ceremonial "knocking of the sconce" off the wall at the Day 12 location may be substituted.
Far and away the most significant value of the point system is to incur repeated heated discussions, fisticuffs, and "airing of the grievances". Please keep this in mind and argue about points that you "should have had" as often as possible. Penalty points: If a TDDOC member shall drive within 100 yards of the night's location on the way home without stopping, that member shall forfeit all points and be subject to a NUTKX (see section 8).
3. Any adult-beverages consumed outside these events (weekends, from the bottom-drawer at work, at breakfast.. .) is regarded as Practice for The 12 Days and will not be scored. However, as in any hard-core sporting event, practice is highly encouraged.
4. Events are to be held in a different pathetic central NJ (or perhaps other states, as long as they are east of the Delaware river) establishment each of The 12 Days. Suggestions for events at further-away locations are, as always, highly encouraged, and yet, as always, highly unlikely. Any crossings of the Delaware river must be by rowboat while standing to be fully sanctioned by the TDDOC.
5. Invitees are by no means limited to those addressed in this initial distribution. This is an open invitation. Any stiff that you can drag out is more than welcome. Participants should also encourage breakout chapters in other sections of the country. Once again, the San Jose CA chapter will also be in full working order (or so the Germans would have us believe), and rumor has it that another chapter may have been chartered west of the Delaware. Unfortunately, due to complications from Sarbanes-Oxley, the OJ Simpson legal trial, and public campaign for Congo the dog, the Dulles VA chapter, despite having received a $20 billion subsidy from the US government, still cannot square up on previous bar bills and is defunct. There are allegedly Facebook pages for other chapters throughout the country, but be forewarned! These are really embedded viruses that when clicked upon will cause you to be pummeled with email nonstop from a collection of raving lunatics. Wait, that may be this email distribution list. Either way, do NOT click on these sites.
5a. Remember that plant closings are not the end of TDDOC chapters. Why, without plant closings, we wouldn’t even have the TDDOC. Please treat plant closings as a gift from overpaid executives to their hard-working employees as a way to celebrate with others instead of having to go to work every day with a hangover.
6. Family events, work parties, watching Who’s the Boss marathons, having to "wash your hair" that night, removal of bodily organs (aka "the kidney card"), spending time with loved ones, being forced to move to Virginia, etc. are to be considered POOR excuses for missing TDDoC events. These may be important during other parts of the year but during the TDDoC festivities, please try to focus on what is really important, i.e. "Where are we drinking tonight?".
7. Which brings us to the daily Stats.
a) Stats are to be published the following day, with enough time to prepare for that day's event (i.e. before/during lunch), by an elected or forced stat-writer. This responsibility traditionally rotates between participants. Amendments and/or additions to the original published Stats are not only welcome but, in fact, encouraged (Different points of view can be awfully amusing). HOWEVER, rebuttals should stick to the general topic of TDDoC and the stats. Using the distribution list for sharing of personal jokes, "cool" youtube videos, and/or naked pictures of one's own butt are highly discouraged and the author will be placed on distribution for every internet junk e-mail list possible (unless it’s a particularly nice butt).
b) The Stats have generally been a free-form record - Including, but not limited to, the night's activities (should at least cover the basics, where when who etc), discussion topics (politics, sports, fashion, WHATEVER), liquids consumed (cooking/dipping oils and food condiment consumption are especially welcome here) and any patriotic songs sung. Generally, any photographic records of karaoke versions of "Darling Nikki" are highly discouraged.
c) Stats include an announcement/proposal as to where the next night's gathering is to be.
d) Stats include the running Point Tally.(stat writer's personal choice on whether points from the legendary Glenn Burtnick concert at Altamont in '69 should count or not)
e) Stats are an ideal forum to introduce Suggested Topics for that night's discussion. Throw out a topic or two you (the scribe) would like to see tabled during the night's activities. This of course may (and likely will) be completely ignored. Of course, if the word "scribe" is used at any point, you may risk being beat senseless with an empty beer bottle or an "Eman on a stick".
f) Stats of course need not be true!! Embellishment and downright manufacture of the details is highly encouraged, as this is likely to be far more interesting than what actually happened.
g) Note: Use of the word "scribe" itself is highly discouraged in East Coast chapters. Please see (e) again.
H) One more thing: For the love of g0d, please do something stupid, loud, obnoxious or disgusting to help out your local stat writer with material.
8. WHYYY?? call: It is standard for the first person who shows at that night's event to vent their frustration from having to sit at the bar by themselves like a huge loser by calling another participant on their cell phone and yelling "WHY????" into the phone, which is of course short for "WHY am I drinking alone?". Per custom, it is encouraged to then hang up the phone prior to allowing the recipient of the phone call to respond in any manner. No special bonuses are awarded for this other than the personal satisfaction of taking out your societal anger on an unsuspecting other party. Anyone caught making a bogus "WHYYY??" call (NOT the first one at the bar, NOT alone at the bar, or NOT even at the bar) may be subjected to a "NUTKX", which is a Windows software module which will provide the user with a swift kick to the privates upon next logon to work computer as punishment for violation of important social norms. NUTKX may also be provided manually by the recipient of the bogus WHYYY?? call or by the bartender. WHYYY???? text messages, facebook/twitter updates, and/or instant messages are similarly not acceptable and will quickly be faced with a stern poke in the chest from the tallest person in attendance.
9. Contests, competitions, shenanigans: Contests such as no-repeat beer quest (not repeating a brand/style of beer for the entire 12 days), no-repeat tequila shots, drinking your drink out of another's shoe, duels at 20 paces, and of course footraces are highly encouraged. No special points will be awarded for most "shushings" (i.e. being told by an old lady that you're too loud and need to quiet down).
10. Alleged celebrity sightings: Always encouraged, always highly unlikely. It is believed that there has been only a single alleged celebrity sighting in the history of the TDDoC: the alleged sighting of Lilleth from Cheers in the Main Street Bistro circa 1999. Please try for more, and if encountered do your best to engage them in either (1) drinking heavily or (2) mean-spirited fisticuffs.
11. Hard liquor of the day: The first person at the bar (or first person that cares to do so) is encouraged to name a hard liquor of the day, and all are encouraged to imbibe in said liquor at some point during the evening, be it in a mixed drink, shot, straight up, or pouring it over one's own head. Shouts of "ALRIGHT, WHERE'S THE HARD LIQUOR?" (copyright The TEH Foundation) should of course accompany said activity.
12. Pre-season: According to Tamps, there is no pre-season and no points for any efforts shall be awarded….according to Tamps. I'm just sayin'.
13. Privacy Notice: Any hopes of privacy are limited at best, and everyone is responsible for themselves (copyright the DT Foundation).
So, without further ado, clear out your calendar and load up your office desk drawer with hangover remedies!!
Friday, October 11, 2013
Monday, September 16, 2013
Fordham Wins!
The Victory Bell, mounted outside the Rose Hill Gymnasium, is from the Japanese aircraft carrier Junyo. It was given to Fordham as a gift by Admiral Chester W. Nimitz “as a Memorial to Our Dear Young Dead of World War II.” It is sounded to begin the processional of graduates during Fordham’s commencement ceremonies and after victories by Fordham athletic teams.
Full report, including singing the Fordham Fight Song...
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Monday, June 24, 2013
2013 DT Burning Daylight Rolling Happy Hour
Friday, 28 June 2013
Save that date. And stop crying.
It has been almost six months since the TDDoC -- bored yet? Not to worry, the DT Burning Daylight Rolling Happy Hour is Friday, June 28, 2013. Sign up for this event (and others) to get more information. Just check the box for the event(s) you want to hear about.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Day 12 Stats -- The Mayan Cliff
You might be asking yourself “where the hell are Day 12 stats, what the eff is gman doing?” I can answer that in one word… “nothing”… and doing it very successfully. I have been waiting for the spirit to move me, and although there has been some self bickering about movement, nothing happened, so I sat on the couch and watched football and allowed the stats to go over the TDDoC cliff. Look people, since I was really banking on the world ending on December 21st, I was totally unprepared for anything passed that day. What I did not realize was that some Mayan guy simply ran out of papyrus on a Friday afternoon before a long weekend, and really wanted to get home to watch the ancient Mayan equivalent of football so he stopped at 12/21/2012
Finally!!!
Day 12 is here signaling an end to the TDDoC 2012. A wise person once asked a dubious question, “do you ever get tired of drinking?” At the time that question was met with a quizzical glassy-eyed stare. In a failed attempt to better understand the question I went over it several thousand times in my head. As I neared the point of head explosion, I decided that this question required more brain power than I alone could muster, so I posed it to the Wednesday Night Consortium (WNC), surely the combined brain power of several people could solve this riddle. Alas, again the question resulted in glassy eyed stares, as if to say “dude, what the hell are you talking about?” After 15 years of TDDoC, countless sleepless nights, countless morning freight trains running through my head, consumption of more wings and pizza than originally humanly imaginable, vats and vats of beer, grossly marked up liquor prices, enough money spent to solve a good piece of the US debt and enough pointless inane discussions to make a congressional filibuster seem like a yes/no answer, the fog is beginning to lift… I am not saying that I completely understand the question but I am saying that I no longer have that glassy eyed stare.
Day 12 saw the second version of a President-off, this is sort of like a ass-off only it involves Presidential knowledge. This naturally brings to mind a combination ass-off and President-off where the Presidents do a mooning and a winner is picked… I don’t know who would win but I do know that I would not want to see or judge that event, it is a little scary thinking about William H. Taft (imagine if former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright won the presidency… yikes) baring all or even some.
I need to point out an occurrence on Day 11 and make sure that there is clarity in this area. Pods and Yo were frantically trying to procure a ride back to Lawrenceville, they knew that Gman and Su were heading back there… but hmmm, how could they get Gman and Su to give them a ride? I saw a light bulb over Pods’ head and wry smile on his face (as if to say this is pure genius, he was right), he apparently concocted a sure fire way to ensure safe passage back. He approached Su with his great idea, he would win her over by stating is willingness to stop by a Gentleman’s club on the way back, how could anyone in his/her right mind resist such an offer. Now some may think that Su is too demure to accept such an offer but that was not necessarily the case, as she pondered the offer Gman stepped in and said, “not tonight but perhaps another time and we have to leave soon”. The night was young and Pods and Yo were just getting started so they declined the ride.
2012 TDDoC Awards!
Purple Moose Award (PMA) Eman, Lisa Eman, Reese, Scugi… the Eman’s have been given the sacred chalice which holds the names of all past and present Purple Moose award winners in invisible ink, you too can have your name added next year if you achieve all 12 points
Rookie of the Year (RotY) EdRod is 2012 RotY – after much self debate and soul searching, EdRod seemed to be the natural candidate for a few reasons… first, none of the other qualifying Rookies really put an effort in to make many days, I think 3 was the most (and that is not enough, David, Michelle and Shawn try to make it out a little next year you all are still eligible)… this is EdRod’s 4th year (points 2, 2, 3, 5 respectively) so that is a strike against him…however the most compelling reason to force this honorary title on him is that I really don’t think he wants it…
Comeback Drinker of the Year Award (CDotYA) Pods – after mediocre to poor attendance over the last few years Pods came back strong with 11 solid points absent only at is old stomping grounds (I think he previously worked there) The Tiger’s Tale (there are legal reasons that he can’t go within 200 yards of the place, his picture is posted at every entrance and there are alarms, but that is a story for another day)
Every Other Year Drinker Award (EOYDA) Rose – after 12 points in 2010 and 0 points in 2011, Rose hits 2012 hard and scores 7 points. We hope it is not the case but see ya in 2014?
Wow You have Brought A LOT of Friends and Family Out (WYBALoFaFO) Rebecca/Sophia – if you look down the list, you will see those names in parenthesis many times
Happiest not to Attend Award (HntAA) Julian – After being told that he would not be attending Day 6 at Dublin Square, Julian did a happy dance and proclaimed that “his life has just gotten better”
Longest Stat Award (LSA) Yo – I looked at Yo’s stats and said “Damn, this is too much”, however I did read through it and it was good stuff…. Nice job
Uh Oh What has Scugi Done Moment (UOWHSDM) When the owner at Killarney’s goes over the micro and recognizes the TDDoC crowd. In fairness Scugi was NOT responsible for that and no one subsequently went to jail or was banned for life
Best Email Chain Ever Not Just 2012 (BECE) Mertz Head Explosion – it was a funny pre-TDDoC email pondering what might happen if we moved the Princeton Pub Crawl to Day 1
Best Attendance Rho (this is a Day 1 effect), Dacey’s and The Princeton Pub Crawl
FINAL POINTS
Day 11 Stats -- F the Witherspoon
Day 11, 5:01pm, we arrive at JB Winnberries for the start of infamous Princeton Pub Crawl (if executed flawlessly, you WILL be crawling). Pods, Anne, Yo and Mrs. Yo arrive, circle the bar 3 times, circle the inside restaurant 4 times, head outside, circle the restaurant 5 times, back inside again, only to scream WHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY? Pods flips open his so called SmartPhone, preparing a TDDoC group text that reads F______CPL you %$&&@, but is stopped by the pretty young waitress, who orders us first round AND a table, as far back in the tavern as possible, using her 6th sense, knowing what lies ahead for the town of Pton. Art Nufeld shows up, as he imbibes his first draft, explaining how Honeywell may be taking over every company that ever employed ex-AstroSpace employees/contractors/deceased employees and never to be seen again only heard-from virtual employees like him. Celeste, David, Diane (aka Polo, Celeste EMS pal) and her friend Steve arrive, all corning the coveted last piece of 10Square feet of real-estate remaining in the standing room only bar. I get tongue-lashed by Polo for not immediately recognizing her in the dimly lit area, despite being AWOL for over 2 plus years, claiming that she “needed some space” from this wacky group experience from the 2010 holidays…who could blame her ? The ladies only cycling committee arrives, led by Rebecca, Katherine and red-shirt arrival Barb, who had to buy first round and order 8 plates of ½ priced Chicken Quesadillas (equaling the cycling equivalent of 4.75 full plates) which the lovely ladies embellished after a long day. Their girl-only conversation could not be revealed to me, despite my best efforts of eaves-dropping, but I did over-hear a quick sentence on WHY so many of these TDDoC men are so cheap, frugal and only want to attend bars inhabited by hot young waitresses and clients…point well taken. Mosso, Erin, Ed show up. Eman, Lisa and Trent on a Stick show up (yes, we have pictures) The remaining time was spent guessing the Pton where-abouts of Gman, Su, Tamps and most importantly, Sophia, who is on a 10 game winning streak.
We clear out of Winberries, walk past the decadent Palmer-Sqaure Christmas tree, where we took picture of Pods and I peeing first on the tree, followed by a normal shot, as we work our way into the crowded, legendary Yankee Doodle Tap room, where Gman, Su, Goettle, Tamps and few others have been waiting all evening, perhaps an evil game to see how LONG it would take the rest of us to discover their true-whereabouts from missing location stop one or an ill-conceived plan to Protest Winberries over-crowded bar area, or the bar’s affiliation with attempted put-down of Congo, the world-famous Pton German-Shepard who bit the landscaper..we may never know for sure.
The Yankee Doodle Tap Room is famous for the SAME two (2) bar-tenders, who also double as waiter and waitress, who are no doubt on track to receive massive fully patron-paid Yankee Doodle pensions and medical benefits, along with 250 sick days, upon their retirement date in 2025. As we begin to take-over the entire dining room lounge area of the TapRoom, squeezing out the last of the Friday night male-only Princeton Electrical Engineering holiday party, I am approached by a lone-lady at the bar, with Silver hair and red-top, asking me “Are you guys part of the Central Jersey Outer Ski Club”? as I replied “No ma’am, we are just a group of ill-conceived drunks, participating in the 12 drinking days of Christmas, as she proceeded to say “how wonderful” then asked “are you all skiers and bikers?”, as I replied again, “No ma’am, our specialty is just drinking”…it’s what we do best”, as she now left me be roam about the cabin. I am then pulled aside by a broadly grinning Lynn, stating they have keenly spotted a women at the corner of the bar, sporting a new Silver top with Lord and Taylor tags prominently displayed, quickly dubbing her Princeton’s first ever “Extreme CheapSkates - OCD Chronic Shopper” award. Her husband, the disabled man with the walker taking up the entire corner of the bar, was last seen tucking receipts into his pants underneath the picture of Michelle Obama at the famous dining room’s “wall of fame”. Scugi is having blast, making the rounds and promising not to show off his 20 inch Galaxy 3 SmartPhone, with quarter-second TIROS satellite weather updates and “Extreme blondes into Porches” You Tube videos. Many many great discussions abound simultaneously, but suddenly we are caught off-guard by the site of Su contortioning herself, feet facing the ceiling, in an ill-fated attempt at fetching the “Trent on a Stick” (TOAS), which has somehow slithered down into an unknown “black-hole” behind the massive 250 year old wooden bench upon which they sat. We summoned Scugi to summon off a blazing fast Text off to the Princeton Astrology club, as they quickly rounded up their gear and bee-lined it over, to study this phenomenon and most importantly, film this never-seen before black hole. Three more sexy contortion attempts by other females, all with exposed body parts…all coming up empty. A crowd ensues to watch this never-before seen all-female rescue attempt. Many You Tube videos are surely released by now. Gman is infuriated by the sight of his wife in this vulnerable position, by not bringing his video camera, his hopes dashed of cashing in on the Google You-Tube Video of the Year $10,000 cash reward. Mertz’s son Cory arrive, fully decked out in his finest Princeton attire “HotDog Johnny” T-Shirt, followed by Dad (Mertz) with second son, Jeff, fresh in tow from Ithaca College. A great family tradition has begun!
We depart for our next stop, waving to Silver lady in red, knocking down disabled man’s walker, head through the main dining room of the Palmer Inn, ruining the dinner of many, as we head out the main corridor past the Nassau Inn gatekeeper, snatching a few high-end chocolate-licorice mints, as we crawl over to the “Annex” or now known as the well-thought-out name Princeton Sports Bar and Grill (PSBG)”. PSBG is a bit dead upon arrival, but that is quickly changed by the 30+ crowd we shovel into the 15 ft below sea-level bar area. Gman ensues a conversation about how a group of the TDDoC ladies are now in the lead for taking over the most consecutive TDDoC point totals for the year (or something like that), to which the ladies surround him with hugs, lap-dances and a soon to be departing wife Su. All is cheerful and well. The men are consumed by both the hot bartender and the NY Knicks, who are getting their A__s whooped by Chicago, all while pretending to talk to their female counterparts, replying with “yes, I hear ya” to everything they say. There is a very strange looking DJ playing semi-club-inspired music, while his twin-look alike brother stands swaying strangely to the beat in the middle of the dance floor, moving around with his eyes shoved in the back of his head like he just had 3 shots of Tequila, making an ill-fated eye-contact attempts at attracting female-followers to join him on the dance floor. Conversations ensue about which shot we will do, as Reese opens up her now infamous iPhone drink app, namely “Hot Girls, Hot Shots” I believe. The selection is made, with Reese’s app and liquor-store expert Cory’s lead assistance. I look over at Pods, who just bought a beer for Reese, Pods makes his “cheers” beer-mug swing into Reese’s glass, only to have a “Beer Gone Wild” moment, with brew spilling all over Reese’s, uh, upper body area shall we say. Reese, who is now in the running for the first ever PSBG Hot Girls, Hot Shots wet T-Shirt Contest, scorns Pods, but quickly offers Prayers and Guidance of forgiveness, as she was taught down the street at her Princeton Place of Worship. She advices Pods to seek immediate counseling, go to church every Sunday and to enroll in MCCC’s “How to Make a first impression to a Female” Non-Credit class, starting in January. Now, the young, highly attractive army of young ladies arrive, all decked out in sexy low-cut tops, tight jeans, ready to take over the 12x12 dance floor near the Pysco-Path strange dude, who now realizes he “might” have accomplished his mission by the look on his face. We start dancing a bit, led by Rebecca, who was moving nicely. Pods makes an ill-fated attempt at a sexy-back to back dance move on Rebecca; they wind-up on the floor, rolling around, next to the Pycho-Path dude, while some of the young Pton party girls contempt an early night exit.
As I dig out my coat from under the 25 other coats sitting on top of it, all with smoke, fleas and a spilled Bud Light on it, we exit past the throngs of young revelers, while Pods and I wonder “WHHHHYYYYYY” in the hell are we leaving!!!!! That turns out to be a VERY good question, as we wobble down the sidewalk to enter the ultra-sophisticated WitherSpoon Grill, complete with about 10 people in the establishment, all wondering “WHHHHYYYY” in the hell am I here as well? We move to the bar area, as my drink order is filled by two new-comber friend-dudes of Rebecca, who seem to have no problem ordered an entire round for every person in the immediate area. I then ask, WHHHHYYYY Not?!! So, here we are, Pods and I kicking and screaming over the loss of our hot female dance counter-parts, only to be drinking $7.00 Dogfish brews, while listening to smooth jazz instead of retro-club, while contemplating HOW we’re going to get home. Yes, Pods and I concocted this plan of “no drinking and driving”, with him and his lady coming over to our place first, only to have our female counterparts leave us early, leaving us with no ride home. A great plan, if I may say so. After an earlier Eman/Lisa failed request, Gman/Su offered us the lift, which we quickly rejected due our drunken state and an ill-fated follow-on plan B that Pods and I could somehow return to the PSBG hot-check laden dance floor for a second chance. Still without a ride home (and no BillyBob overnight hotel stay as rumored), leaving us to ponder if we will be soon sleeping on our piss laden ground under the Palmer Square Christmas Tree, getting a ride home from a taxi driven by Mohammed for $50, or left to die in the Princeton wilderness, only to found in the morning by a homeless guy. Brilliant plan, if I may say so. Desperation begins to kick-in, as I head over to the upscale men’s room, complete with pictures of the Princeton 1897 football games, I run into Ed, husband of Dow Jones acclaimed cyclist Erin, who, upon finishing reading all the wall photos, ask him where he lives; he says “Lawrenceville”, which brings a giant sized smile to my face. As he heads back to the bar to join his wife Erin, Pods and I muster up the courage to ask for the much-needed ride home, to which they replied “sure!”. All is merry and well, we offer drinks, steaks, body-shots, all which are flatly rejected. One condition made by Erin was that Pods not shout “F____K Witherspoon Grill” on the way out the door, which he blatantly ignored. No sleeping underneath the Christmas tree this year. Tamps and his crew are over at the far end of the bar, somehow making sure to stay as humanly far away from the main bar area as possible, in what I believe was an effort to ensure they are NOT positively ID’d as the key decision makers to leave the hot girl laden PSBG bar that Pods and I wanted to own by now. I am hungry by now, so I contemplate ordering a $35 Steak sandwich appetizer, but instead, keenly note the full plate of left-over Italian bread, sitting on the yet to be cleaned off empty table next to me. I lunge for the bread and begin woofing it down, all to the astonishment of the TDDoC crowd. The lovely brunette bar maid notices, who proceeds to send me a dirty look, while I think she contemplated my early removal from the establishment. A great night had by all.