He's Alive! Alive!

I was so sad last week when I'd heard that Black Cat Bill had passed away. I hadn't seen him in a very long while, so I figured that news of his death was true. Just like Compliment Man in Adams Morgan. I know the story is that he moved to Florida to be closer to his family, but maybe that's just what people said just like how parents tell their kids that a suddenly-missing pet was sent to a farm to have more space to roam and be happy. Hmmm... But, man, Compliment Man was a riot. I remember my first compliment from him was back in 1992 exiting Café Lautrec after a night of much eating and underage drinking arm in arm with 2 of the girls in my group (actually, one of them was a professor who was sleeping with one of my floor mates at the time, but that's neither here nor there). Compliment Man complimented their shoes and hair and complimented me on being accompanied by 2 lovely ladies. So cool!

But back to Bill. My fondest memory of him was one night ages ago (when the only white people in the 'hood were the lesbians on Wallach Pl. -- update: and the original T Street Crew, too, but I didn't know them back then) that I saw poor Bill topple off his milk crate, and I ran over to help him back up. Picture it. Me, the little 120lbs. (so not the case anymore) kid trying to lift the 200+lbs. 14th Street fixture a mere 6" off the ground. It wasn't happening. But I did get it done with the help of two Black Cat employees. Ever since then Bill gave me a wink and smile, and every so often we chatted for a bit before I'd go into the club to get my music and drink on. So, oh happy day today when I find out that he's still with us!  Hooray for you, Bill!  Maybe not in your best shape, but alive.  Glad to see you're doing okay.

Pretty Pictures Version 11.29.11

I know tonight's Pretty Pictures have been a round for a little bit, but they reminded me of my 73 year old Cuban tío playing Angry Birds on my cousin's iPad this weekend.  He's totally hooked.  Just like everyone else I know who's laid their fingers on a screen with them on.  It's hard not to be.  They're so darned cute in their anger.  Lana Del Rey with "Video Games."

And I'll Form the Head!

Ooph...Sorry for the extended Thanksgiving hiatus, mis bonitos.  The tryptophan from the Rican-spiced turkey had me in a mind/body coma.  Well...I say it was the turkey, but it was really the turkey and the ham and the arroz con gandules and the pasteles de pollo and the cheesecake.  And the beers.  The many, many beers.  Mi cielo, so many beers over the course of the long weekend!  Overall, it was great time with the Rican familia and the urban familia.  Especially hanging out in the 'hood with my cousin who flew in for the holiday.  I'm not sure that my vital organs (mainly my liver) agree with me on that, but they would agree that this news is awesome!  Learning of the possibility of a Voltron movie made me giggle and jump up and down with pure glee.  Eeee!

That's My Sandwich!

Boo Hiss!  My parents didn't make it out of Rico last night.  Well, they made it 30 minutes out when their pilot decided to turn back to the island because the plane cabin smelled like burning rubber.  Luckily nothing wrong was found, but mom/dad weren't able to find another flight to the Mainland.  So they're staying in PR.  And eating my loaded sammie!  Japi Zanguiving, papá!

(Caveat: My sisters are gonna send us new sammies in dry ice in the mail.  It's a Thanksgiving miracle!)

Pretty Pictures Version 11.23.11

We'll be eating good in the vecindario tomorrow and rollin' back to our 'hood with bellies very full, mis bonitos!  But not to worry.  We'll make sure not to go swimming until at all.  Maybe someone should tell the boys in today's Pretty Pictures not to jump into the pool immediately after gorging either.  The pictures might not be so pretty if they did.  Frànçois & The Atlas Mountains with "Piscine."

The Ricans Are Coming! The Ricans Are Coming!

The Jayhawk and I are getting ready to gobble gobble on some turkey and fixin's tomorrow at my cousin's house in the No Va with my parents!  I know that I saved up some space in my belly already today by eating a light lunch and dinner.  Gotta make room for the pasteles, alcapurrias, beans and rice, and many desserts.  And our sandwiches from Las Cumbres that my sisters bought for us this morning.  Nothing says Rican lovin' quite like pounds of roast pork, ham, salami, mortadella, and cheese on a freshly-baked hoagie roll.  By the time we get them tomorrow all of those juices and flavors will have melded together and seeped into the bread...Oh!  I'm going into artery-hardening, heart attack shock just thinking about it!  Too awesome for words.

Last Night the Sandwich Saved My Life

Literally. 

The Jayhawk and I tried to make it to District Commons last night, but the bar was 10 people deep, so we ended up at Kinkead's instead.  Good God I'd forgotten how white and boring that place is!  Luckily KK was behind the bar to make our experience bearable.  The half-priced oysters also helped.  As did the cod fritters (a little soggy, but yummy), the smoked chicken quesadilla (very nice; the fire-roasted tomatoes and slight kick to them were delicious), the queso dip (um, yeah, the mini ramekin of melted cheese that aspires to be as good as Chinmey Fall Cat's Ro*tel® queso was disappointing).  We had to leave, though, once the "fabulus" theater gays and their fruit fly arrived.  Their banality was vexing me.  So, we marched our way up 21st Street and landed at James Hoban's.  Good times were had once Mikey joined us.  And then, of course, we ended up at the Polly's (yes...Desperado's) to see Amber and keep mistreating our livers. 

That's where my memory ends.  This morning (an hour ago, really) I pieced together the vague bits of info from the night after being at Polly's.  We may have gone to Dynasty and had a beer at Joe's insistence (gotta be neighborly, you know).  And may have rolled up into Judy but quickly exited.  And definitely went to Fast Gourmet because the half eaten Milanesas in the fridge tell me that we did.  I'm not sure if we watched old videos of Iris Chacón on the YouTube or not.  But I do feel like there might have been some dancing in the living room.  Either way, thank you, mi querida Milanesa!  You really did save our lives.