January 25, 2009

You Got It All...Wrong

Upcoming entries:

01. Tinto with Yasmine
02. Johnny Brenda's with Brian McMicken
03. Two Thousand & Hate (it's so long, it's almost two months late)

January 5, 2009

Rock You Like A Tropical Depression

special guest writer: Jeff Gonick

All right, first I’d like to apologize for the delay. As a guest writer I should have been excited to get this up there. And to tell you the truth, I was. I have no excuse. Well I have one, but it’s so terrible I’m not going to post it. Just imagine that I was stranded in a palatial Scandinavian villa with a super-model for… scratch that. Not a supermodel. Maybe a regular model, I’d be uncomfortable with a super model. All those weird angles, it would be like sleeping with a geometry textbook. Forget the excuse. Let’s get to the dishing and bitching.



We interviewed Jessica James Wilson.
(pictured above)

If you don’t know her, she writes this blog. She loves food more than anyone else I know which meant no one wanted to pick where to go. She said Hard Rock Café because she likes irony and she thought everyone would get that she was joking. Fast-forward 5 hours and here we are.

Let me first say that Hard Rock Café rocks so f-ing hard that we didn’t even know what to do. Okay that’s a lie. It was the first time in my life I’ve ever had the distinct feeling that I was too cool for a place and I’m pretty sure everyone in the group shared this odd sensation. It’s also important to note that I’m not very cool. I like to read books a lot, I talk to dogs when I walk them, I keep a cleaner apartment than Seinfeld, a song from that movie Amelie just came on my iPod, I like the show Scrubs, my favorite animal is a Polar Bear which I tell people the first time I meet them and I played the violin for 12 years. That said, I felt way too cool for Hard Rock Café.

Being too cool, which I’ve never experienced before, is incredibly awkward. So awkward that we all stood around our table when we were being seated, ready for a leader to emerge and initiate a sudden escape. But we didn’t escape. We did what all uncomfortable people do. We ordered drinks.

Jess had soda water (she is obviously so cool that she felt cool even here)
Rachel had an Amstel Light
Ryan had a Guinness
Bethany had something pink
I had an Ultimate Bloody Mary w/Olives
Brent had a Long Island Iced Tea
Rob had a “Fruit-a-Palooza” w/Souvenir glass

As a quick side note, I’m pretty sure no rock-star has ever drank a “Fruit-a-Palooza” and if I were a rock-star and someone tried to give me one I would punch them in the vagina or testicles, depending.

As a quick side note to that side note, if the waiter or waitress happened to be a hermaphrodite, I would punch them in the arm and be worried if I was being too nice and they realized it and noticed and thought I was only being that way because of their downstairs mix-up.



Back to the food. For an appetizer we ordered the Chicken Wings w/Heavy Metal Sauce. We talked about ordering the Jumbo Combo and giving it a seat at the table and treating it as an additional guest who could guide us through this experience, but then we realized it was 17.50 and we could probably by a live goat somewhere in Chinatown for that.

Honestly, at this point I should talk about the rest of the meals that were ordered but we didn’t write them down and I can’t remember a single thing except that it was all utterly forgettable. I’m pretty sure the executive chef is the only rock star that’s involved with the Hard Rock Café. It’s probably Keith Richards, who after 40 years of non-stop booze and coke and cigarettes, has the palette of a dead camel. He probably approved the menu during a blacked out stupor thinking he was signing the deed a house he was trying to trade for a slave-ship full of Bolivian Marching Powder and South American indentured servants.

I guess that means it’s on to the questions. There’s a ton so I’ll `pick some highlights:

Fuck Chuck or Marry?
Christopher Reeves alive and in a wheelchair - Fuck
Stephen Hawking - Marry
Vern Troyer - She said, “kill” even though she only had to “chuck” him

If you had to kill someone how would you do it?
“I’d poison them, probably in a drink. I’d wear the poison in a vial around my neck before I did it”.

If toilet paper were never invented, how would you wipe your ass?
“A corn cob or a gooseneck. Duh!” This was followed by a long and excessively descriptive conversation about how to properly use a corncob to wipe an ass. This was while we were eating and had no affect on anyone’s appetite. I guess that is an additional commentary on the food.

If you could eat one person, anyone from history, who would it be and why?
“MacGiver, so I could have his ingenuity. Or Jesus.”

If you could eat any imaginary creature, what would you eat and how would you prepare it?
“A centaur’s penis.” This was followed by a lengthy discussion of how she wouldn’t actually eat it but would blow the centaur, which was followed by talking about how it would explode with the force and pressure of a fire-hose.

If your vagina became a person because of an encounter with a wizard in a forest of some kind, what would that person be named and what would they be like?

“Regina, and she’d be really full”

At this point we asked Jess to ask a question, and she threw that one back at everyone at the table. Here are the answers:

Jeff – “Spencer” – Annoyingly attentive
Brent – “Gargamel” – Hateful, because he was never satisfied
Rob – “Richard or Dick” – Confused as to why he is alive
Bethany – “Rayne” – An alcoholic hippy who abuses mescaline
Ryan – “Demetri” – Russian, never get out of pajamas. “My penis would wipe his ass with a corn cob.”
Rachel – “Fergie” – As in the pop-star Fergie is actually Rachel’s personified vagina.

It’s worth noting that right after we found out that Fergie is Rachel’s vagina, a Black Eyed Peas song came on and each and every one of our minds’ was blown.

As the server (who it’s worth noting was excellent) cleared the last of the plates and the questions came to a close, I couldn’t help but notice that our earlier awkwardness was gone. We definitely didn’t drink enough to explain this newfound comfort but it was certainly there. Regardless of how forgettable the food was we were having fun.

And while Hard Rock Café may not have been the cause of it, they certainly didn’t keep it from happening, which is more than I can say for a lot of Philadelphia Restaurants with forgettable food. Sure, not a single thing we ate was good, but any place that doesn’t mind Rachel and Jess acting like they’re giving a Centaur a blowjob as the night comes to a close can’t be all bad.


Bonus:

And here are the songs Rachel wrote down as playing while we were there:

“Feel Like Making Love”
“Rock and Roll (illegible)”
“Fields of Gold” – Sting
“Zombie” – The Cranberries (which made me realize I might secretly like them. Brent also said this was a good wedding song)




January 4, 2009

How Does It Feel In My Arms

Due to my lackadaisical attitude from the year 2008, Jess Wilson's blog entry has yet to be posted. It'll be up in the next few days.