St. George Spirits on No Reservations. PUKE. »
Anthony Bourdain, that hella old white dude who likes to pose with hamhocks over his junk* and who is all I’M A TEAR A BITCH UP but is really just some smarmy once-upon-a-time chef hosts a show on the Travel Channel called, No Reservations for Smarmy. This week, they hit up San Francisco and there is a sneak peak up of their visit to Alameda’s St. George Spirits.**
So watch that video and then all I have to say is A) what is up with the screeching car sound effect when he pulls up? Are we supposed to think, GOD HE IS SO BADASS? I’m confused, because what crossed my mind was that’s total midlife crisis, STOP EMBARRASSING ME WITH YOUR CHEESY CAR, DAD stuff right there; B) Do you still get hangovers when you’re 1,000 years old? And is it cool to play them up when you’re SO OLD WHY WERE YOU UP PAST 9 P.M. DRINKING ANYTHING BUT METAMUCIL?; C.) YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT A METH LAB LOOKS LIKE, SO STOP ACTING LIKE YOU HAVE STREET CRED. Ugh obnoxious. The closest that white-bread motherfucker has ever been to a meth lab is watching an episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent; C) Man, I am disappointed in St. George Spirits. They have been nothing but awesome to me since way back when I lived near their old warehouse and they let me in for free tastings. It was just a couple of people then, including a really old awesome German dude with VERY rosy cheeks, if you know what I’m saying.*** I’d come in and we’d talk animals and sip port and there would be some awkward flirtation and I’d leave before it came the time when someone was about to Cross the Line. Anyway, they were always supportive of animal rescue things I’ve pitched at them, readily supplying delicious vodka to benefits and just being the raddest best. But now I see this video and firstly, where is my old German homie? And who is that roided-out, beanie-wearing d-bag and his friend, live-action Howard the Duck? Did they eat my old German bro when they warped in from 1997? I’m ascurred. And now they’re making FOIE GRAS VODKA? Did they do this just do this because they knew Bourd-lame would crap his ill-fitting pants when they saw their nasty-ass concoctions and therefore they’d definitely get on the show? I mean, that’s like the ultimate example of media whore-ery. Way to get famous for being the cocksuckers who impressed the king cocksucker. Man, just look at those three. I’m tempted to challenge you all to a game of fuck, marry, kill with those three champs but it’s like Sophie’s Choice: you can’t win. I guess I’d have to choose murder-suicide?
There is no real reason for this post except to say, man. Fuck the world. Nothing is good and pure and I hope they choke on that foie gras vodka. Ugh, back to Safeway Select vodka for me. Oh well, it’s cheaper and tastes the same(-ish). Plus, it soaks up infused flavors better SO THERE.
Also, Pirate Cat is having a viewing party tonight if you’re into that. Apparently they’re serving up bacon (of the pig and non-pig variety), if you’re into that. Which you might be. I’m not one to judge you, lovely reader.
*WARNING: WILL MAKE YOU WANT TO NEVER HAVE SEX AGAIN. OR EAT FOOD. OR HAVE EYES.
**I know Meaverly and MD will be bringing you more insightful awesome scoop on the whole show but I just like to get angry and shiz.
***I’m saying he was a raging alcoholic.
Your backyard chickens are SO new great depression »
The New York Times is reaching for human-interest stories, for real, especially about anything that someone without a Manhattan ZIP code might have a passing interest in reading; how will the industry survive if only the rich are buying newspapers? There aren’t very many of them, after all.
Thus we are presented with articles like this nonsense on home-raised chickens. Gosh, says the reporter, seems like folks these days are doing more and more things at home that they used to have done for them! Is it, maybe, kind of, a return to simpler times, not happier ones but those nasty days when people had to be self-sufficient or else they would not survive? Perhaps! This article quotes a lot of people who are keeping chickens in their backyard, where last August no chickens were. This must make it a trend, and how great! Organic, free-range, hormone-free chickens and eggs that come from your own home—all the niche food interest groups are pleased.
But there is a spanner in the works! As it happens, raising your own chickens takes a lot of time and effort. They are not cats, all naps and playing and eating and naps; chickens need outdoor buildings, special food, room to run around, protection from predators, all kinds of extras. Plus, eatin’ chickens are much bigger than layin’ chickens, and thus require significantly more food, which costs money. One of these backyard farmers estimated that each chicken cost $8, while a person could buy a “whole cooked” chicken at a grocery store for $1.99. Sustaining yourself is expensive! Good thing these peasant-farmers aren’t wasting their backyards on things like gardens with vegetables and legumes; they need room for their chickens, each of whom’ll one day make one and a half delicious family meals.
Backyard chickens: Your profit is significantly lower than your original investment, AND you get to participate in the great human tradition of nurturing animals’ lives only to destroy them for your appetite(s). Almost makes me wish I were
nasty clever enough to take on such an enterprise myself.