Texas
How friendly is Texas?
Okay, so this is the last lazy YouTube post I'll put
up for a while, pinky swear.
However, you really have to wonder what these boys are going to do when they get to the Chicken Ranch. Looks like they're having a high-ol' time just a-rompin' and a-stompin' around the locker room by themselves. Ahem, uh.... yeah.
So, uh... yeah. Wow.
Yee-haw?
However, you really have to wonder what these boys are going to do when they get to the Chicken Ranch. Looks like they're having a high-ol' time just a-rompin' and a-stompin' around the locker room by themselves. Ahem, uh.... yeah.
So, uh... yeah. Wow.
Yee-haw?
|
Photoblogging from Ruby's Bathroom
This previous Friday night I found myself in need of
relief. Not to be indelicate, but anyone who knows me
is painfully aware that I'm a Diet Coke pig. I chug
it. It is my weakness. That said, any night on the
town can be filled with more than a couple visits to
the porcelain convenience. Early in the evening I
found myself at a bar frequented by rugby toughs
called "Nasty's" on Guadalupe. It's a
charming establishment with a good selection of
microbrews on tap and dusty panties, bras,
and... I think they were boxer briefs... hanging
from the ceiling. Once it was time to "break the
seal" as my euphemistically-inclined friends
would say, I headed off to the men's room.
Now I'm not one of those "bashful bladder" types. I have used urinal troughs standing crowded shoulder-to-shoulder with the meanest of hombres. But allow me to tell you right now: there is no way in hell I was using this bathroom. None. It was essentially a black-painted cubicle with a porcelain bowl that you think is a hallway until you realize, nope: that's the men's room.
I'll skip the graphic over-description and get to the meat of the story (foreshadowing!). A member of what is fast becoming my Austin "runnin' crew" suggested that we adjourn to Ruby's BBQ for a post-Nasty's repast. I agreed if for no other reason than to use a bathroom that at least didn't appear to be out of a third world prison.
To my delight, Ruby's (which has very tasty BBQ, by the way) also has a men's room adorned with some of the most delightful found-art sharpie-drawn insanity that I've seen in a bathroom in ages. With iPhone in hand, I snapped a few choice images for you to enjoy here. Salud!
I would love to know how this drawing got started. Just a circle around a dot? Was it just one person who drew the crude "W" and then adorned it with bristling hairs? As a collaborative art project, "Dongs & Ballz" is a resounding success.
BTW, to any of those reading who are not intimately familiar with the male anatomy, it should not look like this. And if you happen upon some that do look like this, back away slowly.
You see... one does not own the chili. One merely rents it.
But for those of you who miss the nuance, there's a Cliff's Notes version beneath.
What candidate would a poorly-rendered legless Warner Brothers cartoon character endorse? The choice is obvious, don't you think?
Unfortunately, Wile E. Coyote is a superdelegate who has already backed Barack.
Somewhere out there a guy named Glen is thrilled that this masterful piece of prose can finally be enjoyed on the internet, where other guys named Glen who read it can stumble drunk into the bathrooms of their local BBQ drinking establishments and write it themselves. All of this made me wonder, however, why do so many guys go to the bathroom with a permanent magic markers?
This is the logo of my new favorite band. I don't know if they are a band, but I want to believe they are, because the logo is that awesome.
Actually, there is a band here in austin called Girl Fart, which is surprisingly poppy (read again" POP-py"), however they have named themselves in such a way that almost assures they will receive no radio play.
Sure, the request is whimsical, but it's also a little romantic.
Why don't we just go to a Sandals resort instead? It's basically the same thing.
For those having a hard time reading drunken nerd scribbles, this reads: Cthulu/Shoggoth '08, Why vote for the lesser of two evils?
In case you're not familiar, Cthulu and Shoggoth are characters from H.P. Lovecrafts Cthulu Mythos, which is some high-end mid century sci-fi literary nerdishness. Just the kind of thing I would expect in a restaurant bathroom on the edge of a college campus. If this were in a bathroom of a truck stop in central Kansas I'd be worried. It should be noted that in ball point beneath this political ad are the words "Fuckin Funny." I second that emotion, good sir.
For the record, I, too, would rather have the giant and evil Cthulu for president than John McCain.
To recap, if you're near 32nd and Guadalupe and want some good BBQ paired with some of the most entertaining bathroom reading available, stop into Ruby's and enjoy.
That's all for the weekend, kiddies.
Huzzah.
Now I'm not one of those "bashful bladder" types. I have used urinal troughs standing crowded shoulder-to-shoulder with the meanest of hombres. But allow me to tell you right now: there is no way in hell I was using this bathroom. None. It was essentially a black-painted cubicle with a porcelain bowl that you think is a hallway until you realize, nope: that's the men's room.
I'll skip the graphic over-description and get to the meat of the story (foreshadowing!). A member of what is fast becoming my Austin "runnin' crew" suggested that we adjourn to Ruby's BBQ for a post-Nasty's repast. I agreed if for no other reason than to use a bathroom that at least didn't appear to be out of a third world prison.
To my delight, Ruby's (which has very tasty BBQ, by the way) also has a men's room adorned with some of the most delightful found-art sharpie-drawn insanity that I've seen in a bathroom in ages. With iPhone in hand, I snapped a few choice images for you to enjoy here. Salud!
I would love to know how this drawing got started. Just a circle around a dot? Was it just one person who drew the crude "W" and then adorned it with bristling hairs? As a collaborative art project, "Dongs & Ballz" is a resounding success.
BTW, to any of those reading who are not intimately familiar with the male anatomy, it should not look like this. And if you happen upon some that do look like this, back away slowly.
You see... one does not own the chili. One merely rents it.
But for those of you who miss the nuance, there's a Cliff's Notes version beneath.
What candidate would a poorly-rendered legless Warner Brothers cartoon character endorse? The choice is obvious, don't you think?
Unfortunately, Wile E. Coyote is a superdelegate who has already backed Barack.
Somewhere out there a guy named Glen is thrilled that this masterful piece of prose can finally be enjoyed on the internet, where other guys named Glen who read it can stumble drunk into the bathrooms of their local BBQ drinking establishments and write it themselves. All of this made me wonder, however, why do so many guys go to the bathroom with a permanent magic markers?
This is the logo of my new favorite band. I don't know if they are a band, but I want to believe they are, because the logo is that awesome.
Actually, there is a band here in austin called Girl Fart, which is surprisingly poppy (read again" POP-py"), however they have named themselves in such a way that almost assures they will receive no radio play.
Sure, the request is whimsical, but it's also a little romantic.
Why don't we just go to a Sandals resort instead? It's basically the same thing.
For those having a hard time reading drunken nerd scribbles, this reads: Cthulu/Shoggoth '08, Why vote for the lesser of two evils?
In case you're not familiar, Cthulu and Shoggoth are characters from H.P. Lovecrafts Cthulu Mythos, which is some high-end mid century sci-fi literary nerdishness. Just the kind of thing I would expect in a restaurant bathroom on the edge of a college campus. If this were in a bathroom of a truck stop in central Kansas I'd be worried. It should be noted that in ball point beneath this political ad are the words "Fuckin Funny." I second that emotion, good sir.
For the record, I, too, would rather have the giant and evil Cthulu for president than John McCain.
To recap, if you're near 32nd and Guadalupe and want some good BBQ paired with some of the most entertaining bathroom reading available, stop into Ruby's and enjoy.
That's all for the weekend, kiddies.
Huzzah.
Docmarvy relaunches from Texas, and there's always room...
05/07/08 07:19 PM Filed in: Retro
Hey everyone. Like mononucleosis, I'm back without
warning or reason.
Allow me to quickly recap: After the last post I was hastily relocated to Texas. I guess that's just the nature of the witness relocation program... er, I, uh... mean... business.
So I took a couple months off from maintaining docmarvy.com to get myself situated and to work on some of the parts of the blog. In that time I almost abandoned this obvious vanity project, but then like a bolt of lightening I got an email from a Creighton student doing her thesis on Omaha nightclubs of the 50's and 60's and she ran across what has easily been my most popular blog post. Read the comments, it's hilarious. An 85 year old grandmother read my filthy writings. I'm proud and ashamed all at the same time.
So I revived the site and am fully renewed to update it on a twice-a-week schedule and include new features like Found Audio! (I ran across a ton of my old cassettes during the move) and tons more of my making fun of weird stuff I find in old books and magazines. Making the most of my $60 scanner, that's what docmarvy.com is all about. That and making cheap jokes at the expense of other people's hard work.
So let's get on with it, shall we? After all there's always room... for Jell-O!
So I also found stacks and stacks of funky old cookbooks during the move. This was at the top of the stack, so I warmed up the tubes in my scanner (not to be confused with the truck-filled tubes that comprise the internet) and got down to bee's wax.
Reasonably harmless, right? I mean... it's the new Joys of Jell-O. The name is benign and the desserts on the cover are charmingly anachronistic. But what horrors await inside? I'll give you a hint, this was published in 1973.
Totally innocent. A pre-MILF-era mom adding 12 cups of refined white sugar to a warm bowl of strawberry Jell-O where her son, wearing his "frumpy lesbian activewear" sweatshirt, eagerly awaits adding the peach, er... uh, cantaloupe (?) slices to make a delicious high fructose dessert concoction. Everything is cool so far.
It's worth describing the recipe pages, they're in a mixture of standard Helvetica and a Veer-quality script for the chapters (just like on the cover). It's actually laid out quite nice. But the photography? Well... it was 1973.
And nowhere is that more evident when, at the start of the chapter "Bring on the Super Desserts" you're introduced to this lovely couple:
"Hi! We're here for the key party! And we brought Jell-O!"
Great. They're into sploshing. Try as you might to pretend it doesn't happen, these two "do it." Because it was the 70's I can only imagine that their lovin' was a sweaty tangle of barley-and-sweat scented muskiness that left everyone involved feeling sticky and with rugburn and errant pieces of orange shag carpeting stuck to their backs.
Also... there was the Jell-O.
And Jell-O is about desserts, no? In fact, they're "Centerpiece Desserts."
Case in point:
I have no beef with the lower dessert (assuming it contains no beef -- foreshadowing!), but the cake-plated one? Say what you will about shiny amber rings of Hollywood-quality vomit in suspended animation, but to me it doesn't scream "tasty". The candlelight does lend an air of old world sophistication. You know, back when people didn't know any better.
Further down the table what have we got? A pie containing the pink-er, more active slime from the second Ghostbusters film, an amber ring of banana slices in the background, and then there's the real eye catcher. You know those overpriced scented decorative soaps they sell at Whole Foods and other fancypants retailers? Well now you know what they start life as: a stained glass shame cylinder. It's the dessert too mod to eat. And that's okay, because you know it's so "creamy" that you're going to be hocking up multi-color phlegm wads for the next week. Enjoy!
You know why this has been too easy so far? Because thus far all these desserts have involved fruit of one kind or another. Fruit is okay. It's sweet. Not like, say... vegetables. Not like, say... the Green Goddess Salad Bowl:
Oh but wait. The avocado slices are merely the beginning. This also contains Garlic Salt, Sour Cream, Mayonnaise, Vinegar, Salad Greens, CRAB MEAT, and ANCHOVIES! Yes, the smoked fish that the mentally challenged enjoy on their pizzas and crab meat are incorporated with... LIME JELL-O. So, yeah. Those bricks that look like jaundiced tofu. Nope, that there is sour cream and mayo infused Lime Jell-O. Commence to barfin'.
But certainly nobody would put land animals in Jell-O, right? RIGHT!?!
Say hello to Chicken Mousse. Lemon Jell-O, Chicken Broth, and no reason to ever want to enjoy food again are most of what goes into this atrocity before mankind. Eat it? I couldn't MAKE IT without barfing. No wonder everyone was thinner in the 70's. Look at what they had to eat!
It probably doesn't help that the plates look like they were designed by H.R. Geiger.
There was also a lemon Jell-O mold filled with hard boiled eggs and diced ham. But it was too gruesome to scan. I am NOT making that up.
Back to more veggies!
Silicone breast implant? You wish! It's radishes, cucumbers, celery, green peppers and lemon Jell-O. Or so the pod creatures from outer space would like you to believe, until their pods open at your dinner table and the face suckers ram their ovipositors down your throat. (Hmmm... lots of Geiger references today.) Serve with French dressing or mayo. Or better yet, just throw it right in the toilet, because it will be there sooner rather than later no matter what.
If you are inferring that this lovely couple should ingest what is on this table, which for the record is Salmon Dill Mousse and Creamy Bleu Cheese Salad, then you sir are a racist.
Why is there fruit all around that beige bike helmet?
Is that a centerpiece for Lance Armstrong? Bleah.
The next section is "Especially for Junior Cooks," and they couldn't be more thrilled:
The kid on the right is pretty sure you should try that. You just KNOW that little bastard peed in it. You just KNOW IT! That's why all his little friends are giggling smugly to themselves. Well thank you, no, Timmy. I'll take a pass.
Things you never thought of is the title of this section. But really, outside of a little bowl with plain flavored Jell-O in it, I never would have thought of any of this shit. Marzipan? Cinnamon Glazed Apples? No sir, I would not have thought Jell-O played a part in these. And in case you missed it, there's a tray of Glazed Hors d'Oeuvres. With shrimp and olives and avocado and to the best of my knowledge a human ear. But hey, it's glazed in Jell-O, so wolf it down!
And that's more or less the high points of the Joys of Jell-O. On the back cover here Jell-O was eerily prescient in the oncoming cranberry martini craze that swept the Sex and the City-set a few years ago. The only difference is I think most bartenders stuck to Vodka and Cranberry juice, eschewing the Jell-O component altogether. But hey, you win some, you lose some.
That's all for now. I'm back in a big way, kids. Prepare thy-selves for a bigger, meatier, moister docmarvy.com than you ever had before. Give love in the Comments.
Until next time, cowboys and cowgirls...
Huzzah!
Allow me to quickly recap: After the last post I was hastily relocated to Texas. I guess that's just the nature of the witness relocation program... er, I, uh... mean... business.
So I took a couple months off from maintaining docmarvy.com to get myself situated and to work on some of the parts of the blog. In that time I almost abandoned this obvious vanity project, but then like a bolt of lightening I got an email from a Creighton student doing her thesis on Omaha nightclubs of the 50's and 60's and she ran across what has easily been my most popular blog post. Read the comments, it's hilarious. An 85 year old grandmother read my filthy writings. I'm proud and ashamed all at the same time.
So I revived the site and am fully renewed to update it on a twice-a-week schedule and include new features like Found Audio! (I ran across a ton of my old cassettes during the move) and tons more of my making fun of weird stuff I find in old books and magazines. Making the most of my $60 scanner, that's what docmarvy.com is all about. That and making cheap jokes at the expense of other people's hard work.
So let's get on with it, shall we? After all there's always room... for Jell-O!
So I also found stacks and stacks of funky old cookbooks during the move. This was at the top of the stack, so I warmed up the tubes in my scanner (not to be confused with the truck-filled tubes that comprise the internet) and got down to bee's wax.
Reasonably harmless, right? I mean... it's the new Joys of Jell-O. The name is benign and the desserts on the cover are charmingly anachronistic. But what horrors await inside? I'll give you a hint, this was published in 1973.
Totally innocent. A pre-MILF-era mom adding 12 cups of refined white sugar to a warm bowl of strawberry Jell-O where her son, wearing his "frumpy lesbian activewear" sweatshirt, eagerly awaits adding the peach, er... uh, cantaloupe (?) slices to make a delicious high fructose dessert concoction. Everything is cool so far.
It's worth describing the recipe pages, they're in a mixture of standard Helvetica and a Veer-quality script for the chapters (just like on the cover). It's actually laid out quite nice. But the photography? Well... it was 1973.
And nowhere is that more evident when, at the start of the chapter "Bring on the Super Desserts" you're introduced to this lovely couple:
"Hi! We're here for the key party! And we brought Jell-O!"
Great. They're into sploshing. Try as you might to pretend it doesn't happen, these two "do it." Because it was the 70's I can only imagine that their lovin' was a sweaty tangle of barley-and-sweat scented muskiness that left everyone involved feeling sticky and with rugburn and errant pieces of orange shag carpeting stuck to their backs.
Also... there was the Jell-O.
And Jell-O is about desserts, no? In fact, they're "Centerpiece Desserts."
Case in point:
I have no beef with the lower dessert (assuming it contains no beef -- foreshadowing!), but the cake-plated one? Say what you will about shiny amber rings of Hollywood-quality vomit in suspended animation, but to me it doesn't scream "tasty". The candlelight does lend an air of old world sophistication. You know, back when people didn't know any better.
Further down the table what have we got? A pie containing the pink-er, more active slime from the second Ghostbusters film, an amber ring of banana slices in the background, and then there's the real eye catcher. You know those overpriced scented decorative soaps they sell at Whole Foods and other fancypants retailers? Well now you know what they start life as: a stained glass shame cylinder. It's the dessert too mod to eat. And that's okay, because you know it's so "creamy" that you're going to be hocking up multi-color phlegm wads for the next week. Enjoy!
You know why this has been too easy so far? Because thus far all these desserts have involved fruit of one kind or another. Fruit is okay. It's sweet. Not like, say... vegetables. Not like, say... the Green Goddess Salad Bowl:
Oh but wait. The avocado slices are merely the beginning. This also contains Garlic Salt, Sour Cream, Mayonnaise, Vinegar, Salad Greens, CRAB MEAT, and ANCHOVIES! Yes, the smoked fish that the mentally challenged enjoy on their pizzas and crab meat are incorporated with... LIME JELL-O. So, yeah. Those bricks that look like jaundiced tofu. Nope, that there is sour cream and mayo infused Lime Jell-O. Commence to barfin'.
But certainly nobody would put land animals in Jell-O, right? RIGHT!?!
Say hello to Chicken Mousse. Lemon Jell-O, Chicken Broth, and no reason to ever want to enjoy food again are most of what goes into this atrocity before mankind. Eat it? I couldn't MAKE IT without barfing. No wonder everyone was thinner in the 70's. Look at what they had to eat!
It probably doesn't help that the plates look like they were designed by H.R. Geiger.
There was also a lemon Jell-O mold filled with hard boiled eggs and diced ham. But it was too gruesome to scan. I am NOT making that up.
Back to more veggies!
Silicone breast implant? You wish! It's radishes, cucumbers, celery, green peppers and lemon Jell-O. Or so the pod creatures from outer space would like you to believe, until their pods open at your dinner table and the face suckers ram their ovipositors down your throat. (Hmmm... lots of Geiger references today.) Serve with French dressing or mayo. Or better yet, just throw it right in the toilet, because it will be there sooner rather than later no matter what.
If you are inferring that this lovely couple should ingest what is on this table, which for the record is Salmon Dill Mousse and Creamy Bleu Cheese Salad, then you sir are a racist.
Why is there fruit all around that beige bike helmet?
Is that a centerpiece for Lance Armstrong? Bleah.
The next section is "Especially for Junior Cooks," and they couldn't be more thrilled:
The kid on the right is pretty sure you should try that. You just KNOW that little bastard peed in it. You just KNOW IT! That's why all his little friends are giggling smugly to themselves. Well thank you, no, Timmy. I'll take a pass.
Things you never thought of is the title of this section. But really, outside of a little bowl with plain flavored Jell-O in it, I never would have thought of any of this shit. Marzipan? Cinnamon Glazed Apples? No sir, I would not have thought Jell-O played a part in these. And in case you missed it, there's a tray of Glazed Hors d'Oeuvres. With shrimp and olives and avocado and to the best of my knowledge a human ear. But hey, it's glazed in Jell-O, so wolf it down!
And that's more or less the high points of the Joys of Jell-O. On the back cover here Jell-O was eerily prescient in the oncoming cranberry martini craze that swept the Sex and the City-set a few years ago. The only difference is I think most bartenders stuck to Vodka and Cranberry juice, eschewing the Jell-O component altogether. But hey, you win some, you lose some.
That's all for now. I'm back in a big way, kids. Prepare thy-selves for a bigger, meatier, moister docmarvy.com than you ever had before. Give love in the Comments.
Until next time, cowboys and cowgirls...
Huzzah!