Tuesday, January 13, 2015

What's the deal with In-N-Out Burger?

What's the fuss about? What's the big deal? What's up?

I've never eaten at an In-N-Out. The last time I stepped foot into one was ten years ago after a Strokes concert, and that was only because I wanted to impress my friends with worldly knowledge. "Sure, I love this stuff! Been eatin' it for years!"

Everyone talks about it like it's a burger smothered in edible gold. They act like the fries don't taste like any other fries from any other fryer. THEY ACT SO HIGH AND MIGHTY.

I figure that's why I've steered clear. Because, don't get me wrong, I can always get down with a good burger. As soon as hype starts creepin' in, I'm instantly turned off. Or maybe it's my inherent nature to disagree with anything anyone has to say. Just 'cause it's fun and I'm bored tee-hee.

This is my first time trying In-N-Out Burger. I can't wait and wonder any longer! Curiosity has a firm grip on my bony shoulders. And it's shaking me hard and my neck hurts. "Eat it! Eat the food! Eat the Goddamn In-N-Out!" (that was curiosity speaking, btw)

I never realized everyone dressed like old-school burger flippers. I like that. Because if I had to work at an In-N-Out, I'd much rather be dressed as a retro-dork than an actual dork-dork.

There's a certain calmness to it all. The bright lights, the color scheme. It feels (and looks) like a McDonald's but way less hepatitis-y.

I'm already thrown off by the menu. Look at the prices! Look at the minimal selections!

I always remember a specific episode of Kitchen Nightmares, where  Gordon Ramsey was berating a restaurant owner about their menu. Apparently, they had way too many choices and options, causing the customer to become confused and flustered. "There's too many items! Keep it simple!" (that was G. Ramsey speaking, btw)

In-N-Out Burger totally must have seen that episode, too!


And that's...good. It's actually good. It's legitimately smart. That episode of KN sooo paid off. 

Sure, they sell more than just hamburgers and fries. They sell shakes. And a choice of cheese on your hamburger. But when you're a fast food joint that mainly sells hamburgers and fries, you might as well just sell some damn good motherfucking hamburgers and fries. 

So the ante is up. The bar has been raised. Will they make the grade?

...but wait!

Along with ketchup, you can load up on peppers! Little, juicy peppers. Everyone knows them as peporoncinis, but I hate writing that word out because blogger always demands that it's spelled wrong.

I also wonder if the owner is such a big fan of the things that they specifically cut out mustard to only offer ketchup and peppers. "Who needs mustard when you have peporoncinis? I'll change the way the world thinks!" (that was the owner speaking, btw)

Well, it looks pretty good. I'm not a stickler, nor am I a snob when it comes to cooked meat, so I'm pretty sure I'm gonna like it. That and because I'm a pig. A dirty, rotten pig.

Overall, really good. I'd take another photo of it but I fear getting hamburger-juice on the phone more than the Devil himself. I already hate how my fingers smell like secret sauce and I swear one of those peppers dripped on me.

It's good, though. Trust me.

I'm gonna take a shower now.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

The Story of Elvis Busts and Saved by the Bell.

Do you remember the episode of Saved by the Bell where Screech's mom is leaving town so the gang decides to have a party at his house? And his mom is really into Elvis? And has an Elvis bust? And they end up dancing and going crazy and knocking the Elvis bust into a million pieces? Of course you do!

All actual details aside, I've always wanted an Elvis bust because of that episode. Because of that show. Because of Screech's mom.

It's odd. But I know I'm not alone in this, either. A quick Google search and you can tell other people obsess about this weird, minute detail in television history, too. Hell, where do you think I stole this screen cap from?

So, there it is. Singing, smiling Elvis Presley. I think what I like more about it this is that it's placed on a really nice, golden pedestal. Screech's mom has a golden shrine dedicated to Elvis in their grape colored living room. How cool is that?

I've kept my eyes open for an Elvis bust (and a golden pedestal) throughout the years because of Screech's unusual ability to influence and dictate. Sure, I love Elvis as much as the next guy, but that scene really sealed the deal. I want that statue. I need that statue.

Fortunately, I've seen 'em come and I've seen 'em go. There are dozens of incarnations of this specific Elvis entity -- lamps, cookie jars, everything ranging from the outrageously detailed to the crudely painted, etc. Depending on the jerk seller, I usually see these bad boys priced at over a hundred bucks (fuck!) and, unfortunately, anything under forty bucks is usually 3/4 chipped or the size of a pine cone.

I once tried to weasel an awesome Elvis lamp from the owner of a bar in Erie, PA. I offered him cold hard cash for the treasure, the good stuff, cabbage, dinero, legal fucking tender! Sadly, he told me to fuck off. I wholly understand, it was definitely a nice piece. As it turns out, the bar doesn't exist anymore, so...I won?

This ol' dog always comes out on top, though.


It's not the one, but eh it's close.

This is nice because it's "Hawaiian Elvis," and that's OK with me. Say what you will, but that was a fine time in Elvis History. Jumpsuits, colorful leis, endless buffets, the works!

The quest was fortuitous, though. I got this for a clean fifteen dollars and it's the size of a desk lamp. Someone must not have seen Saved by the Bell Season 2, Episode 5: "House Party" and accidentally didn't price this accordingly. What a loser!

Look at those sideburns! Those eyebrows! That smirk!

Kiss me, you fool!

Friday, October 31, 2014


The gang's all here.

Watch a gross movie, carve a rotten pumpkin, eat a razor-blade disguised as a Snickers, etc. Do what you gotta do -- it's only once a year we can all collectively run around in monster masks to stalk the streets and cause mischief. It always helps to steal little kids' candy and to trip old ladies for looking at you funny. Always gets me in the Halloween mood.

Have a good one, ya creepy weirdos.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Agent Dale Cooper in my bathroom.

I've been inspired by my recent bathroom Ghoulie-athon upgrade. My other bathroom, in comparison, is terribly bland and uninspiring. No knick-knacks line the cabinet, no decor to add spice, no juice to add flavor. Because when I poop, I wanna poop with a purpose.

We recently painted the walls in the bathroom a soft, blue-ish color, something that will hopefully sooth and massage your senses while committing natural crimes. I'm not sure if that's working because all I wanna do is cover the walls with junk and posters and fun stuff.

The blue, for whatever reason, gives off a cool vibe, something that feels like a stroll through the sweet pine trees of a northern Washington forest. A kind of "dead-skin blue," if you will. Something that feels...Twin Peaks.

I love Twin Peaks! I love coffee and pie! I love David Lynch! I love the idea of turning the tiny area of my place where I floss my teeth into a tribute/shrine/altar to the Twin Peaks Universe!

Now, in a perfect world, I'd hunt down rare and authentic pieces of decor actually used on the show, but no one got time for dat. Maybe a moose head, or a neon diner sign above the towel racks. Fortunately, I am willing to settle for cheap posters and the only cheap posters I could immediately find (not including fan-made artwork) topped off at three, so it made the ordeal a whole lot quicker and easier to swing. Surf the web, enter a few credit card numbers and we're in business. Two weeks later and my vision is coming to life.

And boy, this vision shore is nifty!

First, I had to get the movie poster for the film, "Fire Walk With Me." It's an obvious grab, but it does the job. To build a house, you must first build the foundation, my pappy used to say.

I'm more of a fan of the TV series, but this is a nice shot of Laura Palmer that isn't dead and wrapped up in plastic. That would be too easy, folks!

Please excuse the blurriness of the photo -- it was taken as quickly as possible. I felt weird being in a bathroom by myself with a camera.

Round two, featuring Agent Dale Cooper and...that other guy. Whatever his name is c'mon I forget I'm a big fan though don't judge me.

This one is good because it features two of the main characters (double-dose) as well as a whole row of doughnuts. Arguably, one would surmise that a plate of pie would be more accurate to the show, but I'll take what I can get.

I like this photo because of it's TV-ad appeal. It's wild that someone is selling an image used for an Entertainment Weekly magazine or TV guides of a bygone era, which I like. I like the little ABC logo on top, too. I like the kitsch. The hokey-ness. I JUST LIKE IT OKAY

And finally...

The cream! The icing! The great Sherilyn Fenn!

Sheriflyn Fenn, known as "Audrey" on the show, is one of the best characters on the show. Why? I believe she said some stuff, had a few good lines, maybe even contributed to plot points and general flow of the series. And because she's super hot duh.

I've never framed an 8 x 10 photo of anything before, especially not of an actual person. It's got an aura of creepiness, which, obviously, is very cool. It feels like we're friends, like we know each other!  Me and Sherilyn, together at last!

Now if I could only snag a signature! To dream!

Not only would I feel like we're one in the same, meant to be together, etc., I'd feel like I'd be showering in a popular comedy club or the local, New York deli.

"Best bathroom in all of Arizona...try the Reuben!"

Thanks, babe!

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

5 Random Posters That I Really, Really Like.

I really like posters. I like the posters that I currently own. Some of these I'm about to show you have been hanging on my walls for longer than a high-schooler. They're influential, sentimental and just really pretty to look at. In no particular order, here are 5 Random Posters That I Really, Really Like and here's why I like them:


This used to belong to my big brother, Jimmy, way back in the day. It's been passed down so many years ago I'm unsure on the actual date, but I'm guessing it was during my formative teenage years when an older sibling had the power to influence my every musical decision ever. And I thank him for that, because Danzig is the absolute shit and yes this poster reveals that absolute shitness.

Danzig rules. Danzig has always ruled. The band is the perfect incarnation of The Doors, Elvis Presley and bluesy metal. It's everything I love rolled into one, so yes, I'm a fanboy and I can't stop gushing over this shirtless photo of Danzig and crew. The black, shadowy atmosphere and uncomfortable bible verse about lust really make for an excellent poster moms will surely love!

And just in case they're reading: John Christ, Eerie Von and Chuck Biscuits made that band. Without them, those first four, perfectly executed albums would not exist. So kudos to you, dudes.

The Misfits

What can I say? I love The Misfits. It ain't no mystery, baby.


So it's an original poster, whatever "original" even means. I'm really just trying to say that it's really fucking old. When did this poster exist? I do not know. I'm guessing it was during that early 90's era when The Misfits started gathering steam from having their t-shirts worn by famous rock stars, thus introducing "Collection 2" to the world, thus introducing all sorts of cool, new merch. My historical interpretation is shoddy at best, so this probably all made up by me and that shoddy memory of which no memories exist. All I know is that it's old and wrinkly and I have it framed and I love it.

This, along with the Danzig poster, were always hanging somewhere in my brother's room, which was eventually passed down to me, and which I shall pass down to the next in line (probably my firstborn son or, preferably, a clone of myself). This poster duo has served as a sort of shrine to rock and roll, to what I should adore and worship for the rest of my life. Well, I'm sure glad the music is awesome because yeah I'm a Danzig fanatic wheeeeee

"Army of Darkness"

This one's a bit of a cheat. And of course, once againit involves my older brother, Jimmy. It's safe to say that he shaped my weak, grossly uninformed mind for the better. If he wasn't schooling me on the infinite wisdom of Glenn Danzig and The Misfits, he was letting me in on the biggest secret of any young boy's life: disgusting, bloody horror movies. Specifically, Sam Raimi directed/Bruce Campbell featured horror movies.

I figure that this is a cheat because he once gave me an original "Army of Darkness" poster (the one with Ash in superb masculine form, with babe at foot) during his years working at a video rental store, which has since deteriorated and melted over the years (the poster and the video store) and which I've since lost and have replaced. We hung the original on every wall conceivable way too many times that it died in a papery, hole-y mess. In honor of that poster, and in honor of this being the fucking greatest film ever ("Evil Dead" and "Evil Dead 2" make the cut, too) I had to get a new one to display. To stare at. To gather strength, power and fury. This is that original poster even-though-it's-not-that-original-poster.

I love you, Sam and Bruce.

"The Empire Strikes Back"

Everyone needs a poster of "Star Wars" in their house. It's essential. Even if "Star Wars" has become some kind of sexy-cool, go-to staple to bang chicks at comic-con, it's still one of the raddest films to ever have been filmed.

I chose "Empire" because it has the best imagery, poster wise. And I guess film-wise, if you wanna get down to brass tacks. I dig them all, but there's something inherently cool about the deeply dramatic tone to the second part of this trilogy. And don't you dare fucking tell me this is actually part five blah blah fuck that

This poster is exceedingly large, too. So much purple. So much Wompa.

Freddy Krueger Looking Especially Terrifying

I have to include this because...why not? Freddy rules. Robert Englund rules. I'd be lying if I said that "Nightmare on Elm Street" was a series I actually gave a shit about, though. I think the love spawns from the idea that Freddy Krueger, with his chicken-skinned face and his demonic claws has, and still kinda does, absolutely scare the pants off of me. When I was young and this shit was in theaters, Freddy Krueger ruined my life. So many sleepless nights, so many nightmares of being chased and tortured by a dude in a striped sweater and dirty fedora. I was scared before I even saw the first film! All I saw were screenshots in magazines. All I heard was that dreadful sounding last name: krooogerrrrr. My keen ears hear something that sounds like a mash-up of crude, booger and rape. I can guarantee you that all three of those words are not fun and that is how they came up with "Krueger."

It was terrible. It haunted me. It ruined me. So, of course, I had to get a giant poster of that bastard's ugly face.

I believe I got it at a dusty, old comic book shop out here in Arizona. It's one of those places that specializes in everything, as long as you look hard enough.

Well, that's about it. Next up will be a list of my five favorite chairs, welcome mats (the list is about four welcome mats short) and ballpoint pens. But the colored ones. Like blue. And red.

Stay tuned!

Thursday, July 31, 2014


Last week I finally saw one of my all-time favorite bands, Man Or Astroman?

Yeah, this is gonna be weird because their name does include a question mark, so trust me when I say I'm not supposed to sound confused every other sentence?


Ah, Man or Astroman? Where do I even begin? The furthest memory I can drudge up is sitting in my brother's room back in Illinois, staring at this marvelous, colorful album cover. CD's were pretty cool back then, way more advanced than the current, dinky cassette tape, so I guess there was a lot of charm in this album art being so huge. Well, my older sister had a bunch of shitty new-wave records at the time, so, uh, those don't count because those suck.

I liked everything about it. Robots either mining for gold, building a base to destroy Earth or simply working out, who knew? All that mattered was what lie beyond the front page and into the meat of the matter...the music.

Oh, and really, the name "Man or Astroman?" is just so inherently weird and cool you couldn't fuck this one up if you tried.

The music is great duh

Surf-rock with an outer space flair. Throw in a bunch of sci-fi movie samples and you've got a pretty good idea but you don't because there's so much more to Man Or Astroman?

They're better than all other surf bands. They've exceeded by somehow turning a pretty laid back, goofy genre into really kick-ass shit. Not trying to hate on the classics, jus' sayin' is all. Jus' sayin', bro.

I'm gushing, aren't I?

"Destroy all Astromen," specifically, is my favorite album. Actually, I like a few other albums more but this one was my first taste -- it's hard to forget the soft caress of your first lover's touch. This is the album that would hook me for, oh, twenty years, and would help me form my own playing style as a guitarist. I owe a lot to these stinkin' goofs.

They stopped playing years ago, so I pretty much threw in the towel when it came to ever seeing them live. I've accepted my forever bummed-out-ness. Once Youtube rolled on in, I finally had access to see what they even looked like. It only pissed me off more. And fascinated me. So many grainy clips from so many grainy shows. Who were these guys? The mystery remains and shall always remain I've missed my chance fuck!

So imagine my surprise when I found out that Man or Astroman? was once again playing shows and was coming to Phoenix, AZ, my back-fucking-yard. The joy! The excitement! I said to imagine my surprise, did you imagine it? There's a lot of it!

Everything was perfect and in harmony at the show. The Crescent Ballroom is quite posh for a venue, and since their house beer is "Luchador Lager" I've committed to the idea that I will one day move in and live under the stage. Plus, most of Man Or Astroman's? fans are so specifically Man Or Astroman? fans, so it was just a bunch of nerds in glasses and old dudes. It was pleasant.

I'll spare you the details (code: I'm lazy) but the show was killer. Sadly, a few original members have been replaced for the night's festivities (where the fuck were you, Coco?!) but all was negated once the guitars were humming and the drums were pounding. I dunno, man, it was pretty kewl.

Speaking of the drums, Birdstuff, who was very nice in hearing our excited claims of eternal fandom, was unstoppable. He played quick, fast and sparse. Small drum-kit but BIG sounds, it was incredible. He even broke a tom and instead of just, ya know, not using it, he took it off his kit and wore it over his head. Are you not entertained?

And then the show ended and he did this really crazy thing and stuff. 


It's art! From outer space! They called it a night by stacking every instrument into a pile of throbbing, bizarre noise. I can only imagine the clean up, which makes it all the more impressive.

100% satisfied. Thanks, MOAM?