Archive for July, 2012

This week marks the two-year anniversary of me taking this blog semi-seriously. So, there’s obviously no better way to celebrate that than to display some stuff that I didn’t even write! Right?

Mine and my buddy Dave’s approach to humor is interesting. Usually in the form of cryptic inside jokes involving music, writing, and/or food, we get a lot joy out of poking fun at the things we love.

This week I’ve been commissioning him via text message (and free of charge) to impersonate a famous writer describing/critiquing places in my neighborhood. Like I said, the humor is interpersonal and puzzling. But Dave is a good and funny writer, so you just might enjoy:

1.) The World’s most famous asshole rock critic Robert Christgau reviews Irazu, a hip Costa Rican restaurant a half a block from my house: “Costa Rica is the place all your hippie-conservationist-leaning friends went junior year to hammer some nails and pour trippy teas down their heretofore golden spoon-fed throats. Irazu is not run by such a paterfamilia, but it is still a sweaty affair. 30-somethings who think their newfound financial stability makes them lucky to pass the Gap on their way to Banana Republic sip $17 red wine, order onioned things, and stay too long. Try an oatmeal shake, Trevor. B-”

2.) Famously tangental and enigmatic rock critic Lester Bangs reviews Olivia’s Market, an overpriced, yuppie-filled grocery store: “What’s in a market’s HEART? I think we can all reasonably assume that, in general, some markets have a higher calling, even in that more-dogs-than-people stretch of Wicker Park. The arrangement of this fucking place is all dadaist angles and, even in the small quarters, gray mist where-the-Hell-am-I mustard confusion.”

3.) Ernest Hemingway describes our friend Hannah’s house in Oak Park: “The sun set over the train tracks. In its glow were row houses. The houses were built with old money. There used to be a pond there. Sometimes I cast my rod towards the houses. I know I’ll never catch anything but I can hope.”

4.) F. Scott Fitzgerald describes Sterling Goss, a slow, overpriced deli that sells huge and tasty sandwiches, also a half a block from my house: “The menu at Sterling Goss, that beacon of culinary light which sits firmly drilled into the street corner, is nearly unutterable in its magnificence. The servitude, though, is languid; smock-draped and meat-bloodied men take a molasses filled hour glass to create meals of stunning thickness and girth. Your money clip will feel lighter, but a rich man’s meal is the reward.”

5.) Literary lead singer of the Hold Steady Craig Finn writes a lyric about Estelle’s, a cheap bar that gets packed with hipsters hanging around the jukebox: “And on the Second Night me and some old townie friends went to the bar, it was crowded and cheap and maybe even a little desperate. “The jukebox is way in the back” said the tattooed girl behind the bar, and the three girls pumping quarters into it were yelling, slurring words by The Cars.”

So there you have it, some of the funniest stuff I’ve read all week. More to come. Cheers.


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