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Ariza’s Where Are You?

February 4th, 2010 | No Comments | Posted in Blurb, food, life by Dkd


We were at El Prado last night when we noticed that Ariza’s wasn’t at their spot; this scared us. Emosweater made note that it hasn’t been there for the passed three days, so that made it even scarier. So if anyone knows what happened to Ariza’s or where they went – I can only imagine that their presence on that street wasn’t exactly legal, especially when squatting meters – please let us know. It’s hard getting good Mexican food for that cheap without having to chase trucks and deal with restaurants that cater to, well, ya know, people who don’t really know real Mexican food. Ya know, people who think Baja Fresh is something of a heroic staple. Seriously, WTF.

Ariza’s, where are you!?

In an attempt to pay homage to the great Taco Truck/Trailer and also to get a fix for some good tacos, I made some tacos at home using left overs, looks nice right? Wrong, it was just…ok. The meat I used was seriously just some left over stuff that was sitting around. When it comes down to it, the salsa and the meat make the meal. Anyone can chop up onions and cilantro and flip corn tortillas over heat, but the “meat” of the meal comes from the, well, meat along with the salsa. And Ariza’s uber spicy tomatillo salsa was the icing on the already delicious cake. I might actually cry right now.

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Damage Control, Covering LA and The Room in Hollywood

October 23rd, 2009 | No Comments | Posted in Adventure, Bar, Night Life by Dkd

AMG! TEHPLASTICS!
This week has been a bit nutty and will continue to be, so much that we had an email thread going around to list and prioritize what events were going on with which ones to take and which ones to ditch. Social event triage if you will.

I lucked out and had a friend go to USC to pick up race packets for me instead of cutting out at work to fight through the nightmare trek I heard it was in getting over there so I’m really grateful that I didn’t have to go. Nike+ is tonight and even though I know I’m going to have fun, this race has proven to be very inconvenient in all sorts of ways.

It was my friend’s birthday yesterday at the Melting Pot in Pasadena and although she really wanted me to go, I didn’t want to. Her social circle is so broken and blasted that even handling that crowd is a nightmare. To put it simply, she’s a really cool girl who happens to be ridiculously cute. She was recruited by the hot girl group AKA bitches from hell and got sucked into their life draining drama shit show. Her “friends” are simply obligatory social status totems carried around big events; they’re the hot girl group all the guys wanna fuck at the party or club, but they’re no where near good friends and would soon rather scratch each others’ eyes out and fake friend it up than actually be there for each other. It’s sick. Throw in my history with her and you have a recipe for some mother fuckin disaster. So I did what I had to do. I called in a big gun arm candy to play leverage. I know this all sounds cryptic and I apologize. Long story short: I called in my good looking female friend to play the “is-she-the-girlfriend-card” and toil mysterious magicks, while playing nice with the others so that I can be removed from the drama, have an alibi and escape plan and wean any thoughts of ulterior motives of me showing up alone. It’s all politics. I know, way too much drama and micromanaging for social circles, I swear to pieces I’ll explain these tidbits in detail one day in a book. But for now, just know that I have some really, complex people in my life.

Luckily for me, my recruitment is top notch and my right hand woman did it up so well she had the men up in full swoon and the girls asking questions about my relationship with her. She’s so perfect at this, “Oh, I dunno, we don’t talk about it much, but, ya know, it is what it is.” Beautiful. We used the El Rey and a showtime to ditch the party and ended up at Arizas. It was an awesome detour, we were hungry and could definitely eat. She snagged an al pastor quesadilla and I picked up an al pastor taco and a lengua taco – divine!

love-hate-the-roomWe met up with Sketch at The Room where I had just missed SoSuperSam spinning. Literally by like a minute according to Sketch. It was that damned parking, we must have spent 20 minutes looking for parking, I busted a seemingly illegal U right in front of a cop, totally thought I was toast as I looked right at him, but he just drove away – score! Then I spent some more time regretting not taking a spot that I thought wasn’t a spot but upon closer inspection, totally was a spot.

The Room – Hollywood
1626 N Cahuenga Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90189
(323) 462-7196
theroom-hollywood.com

The venue is small but nice. The prices are stiff, but the pour is deep. The event we attended goes on once a month and according to the bartender, it’s usually dead on the weekdays. It’s located on Cahuenga two doors south from the Beauty Bar. The music last night was hip hop, urban funk/soul and the crowd was the same accordingly.

We ended the evening at the “Western” Denny’s. Jess joined us and we discussed meat eaters, Paranormal Activity and weird dreams to the backdrop of giant trannies, and boy-men who insisted on eating in nothing but their underoos. I didn’t crawl into bed until 4:30 this morning. Surprisingly, I’m ok – but ask me again in 3 hours.

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Adventure Tuesdays: Paranormal Activity and Barney’s Beanery Burbank

October 21st, 2009 | No Comments | Posted in Adventure Tuesdays, Bar, Movie by Dkd

Paranormal Activity
We realize it’s Wednesday, but Adventure Tuesday typically ends on Wednesday morning. Sometimes spontaneous and random things happen on Tuesday night. There’s also a good chance that nothing happens. So last night?

A tear came to Emosweater’s eye when we decided we’d finally hit up Burbank for some fun. He insists that there’s plenty to do over there, we strongly disagree (I’m totally kidding). Our friend works out there so we all decided to watch Paranormal Activity at the AMC theaters in downtown Burbank since he wanted to watch it and we decided that trickling down to Arizas at the end is enough to warrant a trip out there.

All cards on the table, I’m a big bitch when it comes to scary movies. I did not want to watch this movie, but when the guys spoke of Ariza, I sacked up and told myself it was worth the food. Sketch came by to pick me up from my place on the Westside and we made our way to Burbank. Initially we were going to go to the Blue Room to snag $3 Bud Lights and maybe some cheap well scotch to wash down this tingle in my throat, but we were running a bit behind and we had already told our friend that we were gonna meet him at Barney’s, which is right next to the theater. Oh Blue Room, I’ll drink in your divey savvy another day.

Katie our lovely server who we scoffed at for dropping her serving tray – I know we’re such assholes, was a total sweetheart for putting up with our antics. After two pints and a shot of Bushmill’s we were toasty and headed to the movie.

Paranormal Activity

For a movie that was hyped up to be frightening and myself admittedly looking forward to the hype despite my cringing and face covering – the movie, well, let me put it this way: it was like having really shitty sex with what you thought was a hot girl. You’re thinking fuck yeah this girl is smoking hot, you’re turned on, it’s starting off a little slow, but it builds speed, she’s getting into it, you’re getting into it, she’s telling you she’s about to come and you’re all about it, you’re ready to meet her half way when you realize, she’s already done. You think, “WTF? That’s it?” Then you look down at her face and you realize, she’s not so hot anymore. That’s what the movie was like.

It was scary when it was scary, but the scary was too far and a few between with an ending leaving you abruptly wanting more.

After sitting and staring at the blank screen waiting for something to happen, we conceded that the movie was in fact over and laughed our way disappointingly back to our cars. We weren’t the only ones who felt that way, I’d say the whole theater was laughing along with us.

Thankfully the movie wasn’t the end of the evening. We drove down to Ariza for the best Mexican food this side of LA and indulged our irritated movie shakes away. We mingled with drunk hipster chicks, discussed the intricacies of the animal kingdom and I was one shoe throw away from knocking an ugly hipster chick in the head for her antagonistic dry laugh – although admittedly, she was warranted because I was being a smarty pants. I should have gotten that lengua taco.

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Parking Lot Parties and Porta Potty Prevention Policies

October 8th, 2009 | No Comments | Posted in Adventure, Bar, Beer, Blurb, Night Life, life by Dkd

my really shitty Good Microbrew & Grill sign
Time couldn’t have been any slower than it was yesterday. Watching the time tick at what seemed like half the pace of slower than slow was torturous. That uneasy, antsy, nervous energy that makes you shake your leg in unimpeded pedi-strokes makes the trek through the time shift of forever feel forlorn in unforgotten futility.

Fast Forward. Emosweater was standing by his car as mine pulled up, I lucked out and sniped a parking spot in the wonky plaza where Good Microbrew & Grill sat. All he had to do was make mention of $3 beers and flash me a photo of a burger with a halo of crispy fried cheese singing praises of wonderment to make me strong arm through that nasty 10/110/101 orgy of fat traffic and see for myself. My stomach was whimpering its fugliness that feeding time was due hours ago so there was high priority in me kicking its face in with a good old fashioned burger.

We were two of five and the hostess, who refused to seat us because the rest of the party wasn’t present suggested we romp a tiny table and musical chairs our way up and play table tango until the rest of the team arrived. The five of us were finally there to combine our lionbots and have a Voltron of a time.

Four rounds of mystery beers and an Exorcism Burger later we time lapsed the night time streets to El Prado where we indulged in playing guessing games with the bartender, let the ladies ladle wine and lounge in leisure while the men decided crafty beers and clinky cheers were standard fair for our nightly affairs.

With Ariza sitting in our stomachs and sobering up in parking lot parties the night time ne’rdowells did nothing but needfully bring time to its knees. Emosweater literally got shit on his pants from prancing too close to porta potties and a decision came my way that peeing between two cars is cover enough to make me go camouflage.

Congratulations this is our 100th post.

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