Got off the plane, hopped the ghetto limo, and found Sarge in his usual spot. I ordered 2 pounds of that pork steak, and here he's pictured retrieving it for me.
Lookin' like a fat Levar Burton, minus the skin pigmentation and the desire to read.
I'm missing so many pictures from this day, but Travis and I woke up one morning and decided we were going to make some serious Breakfast. Travis loves Carne Asada so much that Fuck You. Fuck You for not being Carne Asada.
Carne Egg-sada was the solution. Double the cholesterol, double the fun!
Made some fried taters with onions, and that large Island in the middle was about a head of fresh garlic minced and thrown in right at the end. Hey, at least something we ate that week was good for the heart.
Hey, your Arrogant Bastard poster is backwards!
I think this is a picture of me after breakfast.
Saturday night! We went to a blurry baseball game! All-you-can-eat Seats at the Padres game!
It turned out to be a bit of a disappointment. On top of the Padres losing, they broke down the AYCE (new eatfiend acronym) early and I only got TWO FUCKING HOTDOGS! Sure, that's enough for a fat bastard, but not for an Eatfiend! Pictured below is the top of Anna's head.
I sat behind Marcos, Private Pandafucker or whatever he's going by these days. Free sodas!
Sgt Pay-attention-to-me and... I'm pretty sure that's a homeless guy behind him. Security at Petco Park must have taken that day off to let some hobo just waltz in the gate like that. Fuck Dodgers fans, except those ones that kept Hans on edge by talking shit to him all night! I'm a fan of shit talkers, even if their baseball team is a bunch of sex offenders! I'll bet all of Matt Kemp's neighbors love meeting him when he moves into a new neighborhood!
"hey man... i just gotta get... i just need you to... hey buy me a beer?"
The game went into extra innings, and the AYCE section broke down, so naturally I took off my wristband. And with no trashcans in sight, I found the closest thing to a trashcan: a man of Central American descent.
"HHHHHBLARRRRRRG!"
The next night, I made up for not not getting my fill of dogs at the game. That's why the lady is a tramp.
Regrettably, that's all I have for the San Diego vacation goodtimery. The Pads hit a homer in some inning, the 7th I believe, and everyone in the stadium won a voucher for free tacos. Hans got out in front of us at the end of the game, sat on the curb waiting, and people threw their free taco tickets at him because he looked homeless. Love ya buddy, but your girlfriend sucks and your beard made you look like you warm your breakfast beans over a flaming oil barrel.
That's what friends are for, right? BRUTAL HONESTY!
Robbie, who has some strange mashup of our Noms-de-Guerre and a literary reference (pretty sure it's Hamlet. Poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio! He was a man of Inifinte Jest), came up to the bay area and visited me a week later. Hey assholes, I've been up here for almost two years and he was the first one to visit me! If anyone wants to correct my pluralization of that French loan-phrase, please do.
Ha, just fucking kidding.
Anywho...
That's how my name is written in Farsi. I'm going to try to figure out something alliterative to make a new Eatfiend name with that.
Bert in the dirt got into town a week after I left San Diego. After wondering aloud where to go eat for an hour, I realized I had some marinated lamb tips in the fridge. 10 minutes of prep later, we weren't ready to die...
WE WERE READY TO FUCKING BBQ!
Rear Admiral Rape victim's friend Josh came over before we went to a fucking AMAZING show at the Great American Music Hall that night. God Speed You! Black Emperor put on one of the best shows I've ever seen. I remember taking pictures that aren't anywhere on my phone. So y'all jerkwads can use your imagination.
Anyway, in repayment for the Edible that Gunnery Sergeant Gonads bought me for the Padres game (pictured above), I went to my local dispensary and got him a dick brownie. Made from real dick.
It feels good, just try it.
This has nothing to do with timeline! Braised Brussels sprouts in my own homemade mushroom-kombu stock with a pinch of saffron thrown in at the end! Super-umami! Vegetables never tasted so good, fuckers!
The day after the show, I had to work after Robbie and I closed out the bars the night before. After work, I met him at the Kingfish in Temescal. RAD FUCKING BAR. If you ever need someone to scout bars in your neighborhood for you, invite Robbie and have a dick brownie waiting for him.
We the continued on to The Avenue a couple of blocks down the road.
We both figured Travis would have an orgasm over this PBR board at The Avenue. We actually contemplated how to heist it, but we figured we'd need a third, and it was a Thursday night and I'm not in college anymore, so all my asshole friends have asshole jobs that prevented them from drinking 'til 5 a.m. with Brigadier-General Baldrick and me.
The NEXT day, we decided to go to an A's game. The afternoon was young, so we ate sushi, but I didn't get any pictures of it because I hate all of you.
Next stop: Thalassa. Hands down my favorite bar in Berkeley (I'm pretending the Albatross is in Albany).
Played some Shuff!*
*shuffleboard, according to Frank, the pretty rad drunk guy Robbie made friends with at the Kingfish.
Wish you were beer jerkbags! A's lost in 11! I don't care, I already root for a losing NL team, now I've got a losing AL team in my corner!
The game was a blast. We sat behind some wannabe bikers and their profoundly stupid girlfriends who told Robbie a racist joke he thought was funny, before he realized they were really racist.
Colin came out afterwards! Admiral Achondroplasia! Everyone who knows him send some love to him, as his girlfriend up and split. Anyway, we went to the Albatross. One of my favorite bars in the area. I have been there drunk so many times that I had forgotten I had ever been there. Below: One of my favorite beers of all time. Kostritzer, a schwarzbier!
Pore Yorick hates to have his picture taken, so I did it under-the-arm. He was so bummed.
Contentedness. Good times, fucker. I'm glad you came up. This picture is vintage Robbie, somehow fading into and becoming one with the bar.
An oldy but a goody.
I'll be back for Cinco-de-mayo! My buddy Max is having a BBQ birthday party on that day. He's made an appearance on this blog before, see my post circa January 2012 after my SD vacation. He can be viewed shoveling pie into his gaping countenance.
Travis Eats Raddnaise!
Eat
Fucking
Fiend
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