HBCC Ode to Vegas: Day 4

tonight i got to have dinner at a place called pampas at the former aladdin casino and hotel, now the planet hollywood casino and hotel. sort of a trend in the opposite direction of things in vegas becoming more sophisticated. but dinner was a brazilian steak place, where they freaking bring you meat and more meat and more meat and more meat and a jamesons and a glass of red wine and chicken and sausage and red wine and jamesons and water and i've gotta go.

the theory that i came up with today is this: when you come to vegas, you find a lot of really nice shops in places like the venetian and ceasar's palace. places you might find on 5th avenue or rodeo drive. the problem is, these places are much more easily accessible than the aformentioned locations. so you have the kenneth coles and bcbgs and other nice desinger shops i can't recall now being frequented by the guy with the tucked in reebok t-shirt and dewalt racing hat from arkansas. it's nice...it's just frequented by dirtballs. and therein is the paradox that is las vegas.

anyways, vegas at night is beautiful. really. my favorite movie memory of vegas has to be the end scene of ocean's eleven (the george clooney version) where they are all standing in front of the bellagio watching the lake and then one by one walk off. there is just something about it that captures the beauty of vegas that it might actually be if you were to bomb all the tourists with their gigantic test-tube drinks, or whatever teh fuck those things are.

anyways, more photos. hope you're enjoying them. i'm stayin in henderson tonight which is a completely new experience and devoid of slot machines, card tables and fun things that rob you. thanks duggs, i owe you at least $40 and a 40oz.

fuck, conan is a repeat tonight, even though my morning jacket is the musical guest. check some photos while i get up to go flex my pecks in the mirror...

fountain in front of the paris casino and hotel

flamingo: the casino is old by the marquee is timeless

ceasar's palace is massive. when you stay there, the wake up call picks up with, "HAIL noble guest..." serious shit

arch de motherfucking triumph. i love lindsey lohan

oh shit and i would be remissed not to mention the free smut that you can pick up and random points along the way. they look just like newspaper dispensers. except, instead of news, you get nudes...hello? hello? is this thing on? sweet pandas...

HBCC Ode to Vegas: Day 3

fuck you

I have to say that I love the Mirage, but I hate the dealers here. Fuck you I want my money back, bitches.

But I did meet some lovely ladies tonight, who turned out to be from the D! Detroit WHAT! Well, okay, Novi, but close enough. Turns out though the hot one has like down syndrome or something (some weird speech impediment) AND a boyfriend in Connecticut (fucking bitch), the decent looking one was actually cool, and then there was the token fat one who was like leaning a little too hard into me and who loved the tigers (!!!) but was really kinna fat (sad face).

In the end I chose cards over these three lovely girls, one of which was visiting for her first time (the hot one with a mental defect) and all three of whom were not staying at my hotel (too drunk to walk to the Tropicana…who the fuck stays there anyways?) plus they were all excited to be in vegas. I was all like, er, what day is it? I’m down 40, gotta go put in some work.

And fuck, I did okay at the table. I even started putting the chips away in my pocket, which means, hey, when the chips on the table are gone, you walk the fuck away jackass. But eventually I started losing, then got pissed, then started pulling them out again, then contemplated throwing them at the fucking panda bear dealing. I hated it with every fiber of my body.

Then the woman bringing drinks who could have easily been my grandmother with Alzheimer's (god bless you grandma) didn’t bring the right drink with her. Mind you, I waited for her stupid ass (she brought a fucking corona, WITH a lime. how dare you?!) and lost another $10 waiting on her slow ass to bring the drinks. So I paid $10 for nothing. No, not nothing. I paid $10 to get really pissed the fuck off and come back to my room to blog.

Fuck, Vegas is soooooo fucking cool…

Here are some shitty photos of fuck all bullshit fucking cockayassas (btw, tonight on Anderson cooper 360: using cattle prods to stop kids with autism. then the chick reporting is like, "so i decided to try it for myself." then the old woman, the mother, shocks her and the reporter is like "OHHHH, its not pleasant, its not pleasant..." So fucking sweet. Ocean’s Eleven is fucking cocayassas)

fuck you

fuck you

you're cool

fuck you. i'm out

HBCC Ode to Vegas: Day 2

home of the runnin rebs

got picked up at 5:45am. JFK>LAX>delayed flight>LAS>cab line. for anyone who's ever been to vegas, you know that the cab line is infuriating. i mean, there are slot machines in the airport. so from the second you deplane, all you're thinking is, "let's go make some money." of course, that's short lived as you get to the baggage claim where some imbecile is dragging ass on the baggage chute and then you step outside to a cab line that makes no less than 10 switchbacks and usually takes no less than 30 minutes to get to the front of.

All the time you're dying to go get in on all the cool shit you just saw in the airport: strippers, clubs, gambling, david hasselhoff in mel brooks' the producers, carrot top, manilow...where did i lose you? anyways, the cab line could be one of the most efficient you've ever witnessed as there is just an endless line of cabs filing into the airport.

then you hit the cab and they've got these books for all the cool shit you can do in town. the real secret is to tell the cabbie you're in town to have a good time (i.e. a phish show maybe) then you might get a little glimpse into the REAL las vegas. try it some time.

anyways, you make your way in the cab through the ghetto before getting to the strip. along the way, you might see things like:

something for the ladies (and senor sexy)

something for the homeys

something for the pirates (ARRRRR)

really though, they're building a gold city out here. it's a little freaking ridiculous

more treasure island, cause its kinna cool looking

and the wynn. cause its just bad ass

anyways, more to come, a few photos for now

HBCC Ode to Vegas: Day 1

ITS THE LEADER QUEST MISSION AND WE GOT THE GOODS HERE

Sup kidz. So this week yours truly will be live blogging from Handsome Bobsled, Captain Commando Mecca: Las Vegas. Well, not really live blogging seeing as how I'll be there for work and I'll probably be doing work type things for most of the day and then drinking and playing cards afterwards. Really its probably gonna be more akin to drunk blogging about nothing, much like what we do all the time here. YAYAAYYAYAYAAYAYAYAYAAYAY

NEVER ON THE LEFT CAUSE THE RIGHT'S MY GOOD EAR

I'll be staying at the Mirage hotel, located across the street from the Venetian and not pictured in any of my awesome photos here. One time Travis America and I stayed at the Mirage and we happened to walk by Sigfreid and Roy's white tigers just as one was dropping a huge tiger turd in the wading pool. Some people cheered. Other people took their kids by the hand and lead them off to more creative things I'm sure.

I COULD GIVE A DAMN ABOUT AN ILL SUBLIMINAL

Yes, a week of a completely self-serving ode to the city I’ll be landing in tomorrow. We're compiling photos and stories to help you live vicariously all week long, and I'll be checking in every day hopefully with photos and stuff that makes blogs make the world go 'round. And if any of yous got stories or whatever, leave them in the comments section. or check out our freaking myspace page, cause we have no friends.

BTW, Handsome, I saw ‘Thank you for smoking’ over the weekend. What a great movie. I know what you’re thinking, “dude, not cool being so far behind on the cool stuff.” And I know, you’re right, but still, better late than never.

Anyways, best part of the movie is when the lobbyist for the firearm companies of America orders a slice of apple pie with american cheese on it, with a little American flag sticking out of it. I thought of you. And us. And US, as in US of fucking A. And I cried a tear of freedom.

STAY AWAY FROM CRIME CAUSE I AIN’T NO CRIMINAL

if knowledge is the key then just show me the lock

the day is nearly here. can't fucking wait. nyc - i love you dawg. but i can't be tied down for too long, and i think we've just gotten a little stagnant. i mean, the first three months of the year have been real cool and lovely and you and i have really been hitten it off despite a few snags here and there - for the most part its been really smooth.

but...see, i've got to get out and see some palm trees. i need to see a beach. the fucking ocean. do you even remember what that looks like? not the east river. the real fucking ocean. cause i don't.

so tuesday i'm gone. its not goodbye, just a short break. my therapist says maybe some time apart for us will do us some good...set some boundaries and that kinda shit. plus, my boy handsome is out there, and you know i gotta go give props to him. and then there's vegas, that whole scene. but that's just whatever.

you're my one true love, new york. but, just give me a little time out west so i can come back to you refreshed and ready for spring. i know you'll understand...

with love, bobsled.

handsome...I'M COMING DAWG! REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOOOOODDDDD!

one for the money two for the show

photo courtesy of reed space. shirts courtesy of rocksmith. click the photo for their site and to see their badass ODB hoody

i got a birthday comin up soon yo...jusayin.

seriously though, i want to steal a freaking shopping cart from pathmark and go on a supermarket sweeps like run through the reed space and just hold my arm out while i run and push the cart so all the dope ass shit that they get just falls in my basket.
"you know, i wish that there were some way that I could be outside, playing basketball, in the rain...and not get wet. now wouldn't that be something?"

i sit alone in my four cornered room starin at candles

a funny thing happens as you get older: you start to realize, slowly but surely, how complete fucking insane things you once thought normal really are. for instance, music, clothes and road trips.

take, again, for instance, this weekend. what do you do when your flight home from orlando, the tourist hell of hells, gets cancelled and you're faced with the possibility of having to stay in that disney world shit hole for not one but two additional nights? why, you rent a car and drive like hell.

well, let me properly rephrase that cause i know travis america is going to read this and think, "what a fuck, he took all the credit." you get in a car with your cohorts and stay awake for a few hours and then pass out in the backseat knowing they're going to need you to come in like the fucking mariano rivera of road trips and close that bitch out.

but that's exactly what happened. friday night at 7:30 we hopped in a car and didn't look back. we drove straight up I-95 from Olrando to the Lincoln Tunnel and only stopped for gas. my boss took the first shift, Travis the Iron Fist of driving drove straight through the fucking night and the dead boringness of Georgia, South Carolina and North Carolina while I slept, and then I woke up just as Travis was nodding off at the wheel to report for duty. and i think i maybe dropped below like 80 once, maybe twice.

in retrospect, it was insane. something that in college i would have said, "fuck yeah, let's do this." like the time i drove from columbus, OH to the merriweather post pavilion in Maryland, for a concert i didn't have a ticket to, only to turn around and drive home again afterwards, stopping to sleep in my truck at a rest area for a few hours on my way back. yeah. almost 8 hours of driving, two hours of the shit ass trey anastasio band (not even the real phish) and then 8 hours home again. wtf?

so when my boss was like, "we're driving to NYC from Orlando, get your stuff" my first inclination was "i'd sooner back a hummer over my head than do that." but, somehow i got my stuff packed and...it was like an out of body experience...found myself checking out, putting my stuff in our Ford Freestyle and then starting my watch as we got on I-4. And then 95 and that was all she wrote folks.

Ford Freestyle, Whitey-style

of course we listened mostly to classic rock cause what the fuck else can you really listen to for 15 hours straight? as much as I love nas, you can't do it. and i tried listening to the underworld double CD, but that just hypnotizes you. you really have to have that good, cheezy, sing-your-fucking brains out classic rock (we tried to think of all the bands named after cities and came up with Boston and Chicago before realizing that Kansas isn't a city and that, fuck, that's all the bands named for cities.) but i'm talking like only three AC/DC songs, maybe some David Bowie and Talking Heads songs, Bob Seger, ZZ Top, and whoever sings Radar Love.

we dined on the finest cuisines: McDonald's, Beef Jerky, Sunflower Seeds, Snickers, Red Bull, Coffee, Soda, AirHeads, Cookies and...um...coffee. We saw amazing sights (sup Jacksonville, Richmond and the NJ Turnpike. god I-95 really sucks actually). We sang songs and told jokes. I guess in the end it was pretty cool. Besides, we made it in 15 hours. Google maps had that shit at like 17 hours, which means that we averaged 71.3333334 miles per hour, which is pretty fucking fast.

Besides, we had to get my Irish boss home in time for St. Patrick's Day so we could end up looking like this by the end of the day:
and that's my story.

handsome quiet down i need to make a sound!

oh shit, you're right handsome, that was post 150. congratulations to us. i'ma rock out like that dude on the verizon Vcast meathead fallout boy commercial. (dude, ever since you brought that up a.) i never miss that commercial and always crack up about it and b.)there have to have been like a hunded people who have found our site by google searching "meathead fall out boy vcast" or something like that. suckas!)just got through rolling around metrowest golf course in orlando with mr. travis america himself, hitting small little white balls with clubs until they all went into cups and drinking heinekens and a bloody mary at 7:30am. work? play. freeways? fairways. birdies? bogeys. bodegas? beer cart bitches. we come all the way down to sunny orlando, the home of mickey and minnie, and the two hot hot girls out there serving us beer after beer after beer were both from the NY. well, the be fair, one was from rochester (the hotter of the two) and one was from jersey (yup).

anyways, runaway golf cart marathons are fun, but travis and i just kept fucking cracking up over this. YOU'RE THE MAN NOW DAWG. watch it again, you'll see what i mean.

Break on Through....to the 150 side

So I have officially settled into my new life here. All assetts acquired for my left coast survival. This week is my first official week of having some fun as an official resident. Went to San Diego last weekend to visit my boy Jeffe (pronounced heffe) and let loose. Good times. Played a bunch of panic and chief'd a good bit. I was really starting to think about how nice it was blasting some Widespread Panic in this beachy atmosphere. Now hipsters, please bear with me. I know Panic isn't the hot shit on the LES but that doesn't mean shit. Even Bobsled does not like the Panic but i don't give a shit. I do. Anyhow, they are starting the spring tour of my dreams. Problem is, they waited till i moved out here. Fucking Karma, knew it would catch me. Anyhow I drafted this letter, begging for a West Coast Tour, and sent it to them last week:

Dear Brown Cat,

Please please send Panic out to California soon! I just moved from the East Coast to LA to find out that you are making the spring tour of my dreams. Hitting all my favorite spots (RICHMOND!! DC, Raleigh) and I all all the way out here. Damn you. Now I have to buy a plane ticket.

Since moving here it is like a dream, I drive around with sunroof open every day blaring my Panic. Not sure what your fan base is out here but it is inevitably growing as I plast Portsmoth, VA 05 at rediculous levels everywhere I go. Anyway, this place is so conducive to Panic that I just can't stop playin' it. Get out here! I need to see some California presence ASAP. I know a few others that are dying out here. Make it happen, we are here!

thanks,
Captain Handsome

First off, their management team is called Brown Cat. C'mon friends, you know that is just too good to be true (note gratuitus cat love on the HBCC). They actually wrote me back the same day, now that is love:

Widespread has played shows in previous tours out in California. The weather sounds like it is beautiful there as well! Although, they won’t make it that far for their Spring tour, keep checking the website for their summer tour which should be posted sometime by the end of April!

Take care, Brown Cat

Either way, if they do come out here I take full responsibility. So anyway, moving on, I spent a nice full day at the beach Sunday. Blazed right in public with the other 1,000 people doing the same. Got to love how accepting the lovely state of California is. About 3 o'clock I was fried like the little East Coast Whiteboy that I am. Sooooo it was off to the beach bar! Met up with a couple of Aussie's that just flew in and thus the day drunk was on. I haven't drank during the day for some time now and doing it on the beach while freely blazing was just marvelous. Next thing I know we meet some ladies and off the hook we became. To make matters better a shitty Doors Cover Band setup and started playing loud as shit right as we started breaking shit. 2 glasses went down almost immediatly. Down I mean down on the floor....splat. The waitress didn't care too much as she was trying to deal with the hord of Bikers that began to take over the bar and break even more stuff. Oh, it was good fun. Ended the night having a session on the beach with the ladies and watching the sun go down. Here are some pics of some rediculous long hair time warper and the blazin' sunset. Come visit soon. Happy 150th post!

i got bigga brothers waiting in the bushes to push kidssss

Drunk. It's Thursday. Sup What's New?

Dude, I’m watching the Marquette/Pitt game right now and thinking, “Damn, nothing’s sweeter than playing on the floor at THE garden!”

Then they show a shot from the court and you see in the middle of the arena, underneath the scoreboards and shit, dead smack in the middle…is an ad for aeropostale.fuckingWEAKnessgardendudecmon

anyways, weak. weak-end. weekend. yeah, i said it: weekend. what's everyone doing? uh huh. yeah. you don't say. well, throw on your vintage AERO tee and get out there and raise some hell!!! even if you are just going bar hopping in BK and then going to the skinny till the sun comes up cause its somebodys birfday.whatchoo thought this was a game?...

who's world is this?

sometimes you realize that one of your good, good friends by the last name of duggan who you don't get to see that often any more takes amazing pictures and that seeing those pictures after drinking a bottle of wine and having a great day and watching the departed on dvd makes you think, 'man, that's a fucking sweet photo and i want to share it with the two or maybe three people who read the blog from time to time and tell those people that, yo, my friend pat takes great pictures and i don't care if i look like an asian boy with down syndrome that just got high on a balcony in chicago with the sears tower in the background while wearing the hoody of destiny, cause life was good at that point.'

life is good people. happy weekend.

What Can Brown Do For You??

So about a week ago decided it was time to see a show in LA. I figured that after a month of blaring all my favorite music from my sunroof it was time for the real deal. I prayed that there would be some show that raised my eyebrows, legs, and cronodancing (see our flicker pics, i am sure cronodancing is in there some where...Who's world is this?) So am searching and what do I see? Not only in the next month or two but 3 days away (crica 3 days ago). P.S. "US Blues" just came on (yay). Anyway Karl Denson was playing tonight at The Mint in Beverly Hills. Holy fuck, he is one of the best shows around. I have seen him at bonaroo, 9:30 club, some tiny place in VA, BB Kings in NYC, and The Blue Note. This guy tears it up. So I went. My first Left Coast Music.

THE SHOW:

Not that the place was a dump but it was more like the mint pictured above than the main ingredient for a Mojito. I get to the place and it is about the size of my rich friends basement. Ther are approximatly 59 people in the place and I was 2 feet from the stage watching Karl Denson set up his own rig. I have only seen him at places with 1000 plus fans and out here I am all the sudden steps from the stage. Ha Ha people don't know shit for music out here. Well not other than Fallout Boy Crapola (have any of you seen the worst commercial for Verison V cast with the meathead jamming to fallout boy. Fuck whow! I don't want anything that guy likes). Anyhow he jammed with this group of boys half his age that he found in New Orleans. Benny D Band. There was a hippy couple both wearing skirts dancing and rolling around onthe floor in a ture monument to homeless setbreak lifestyle. Minutes before the show I chiefed the last of my crunchies. Danced like a fool it was great. About half way through the show I realized something crazy. Karl Denson was the only person in the entire room that I had ever seen or met before. Kinda crazy to realize that. I had drank 3 buds with Beam Back's.



I met some Americans during Setbreak. One offered to chief me out in the street and we were fast friends. 4 Sesh's later we went back in. Zimbabwe. Anyhow I said hi to Karl and drank a Guiness with him at the bar and he apprecitated being my only other friend. Well I atleast told him to. Second set I danced like a cat in a cole mine. Fun shit. I got a crononumber and had a fun show. Karl was wearing a UPS jacket the whole second set and I kept yelling "What Can Brown Do for you. I think everyone thought I was bing racist. I wasn't you know. Barely made it home but some sunchips helped guide the way and here I am speaking the beam out of the truth. Damn it was fun. Say hi to Karl:

i throw a sucka in the front for the ones that front

damn, i hate to bury my sargeant slaughter post, but the HBCC would be remissed for not pointing this out:

"New York City symbolically banned use of the word nigger on Wednesday, the latest step in a campaign that hopes to expunge the most vile of racial slurs from hip hop music and television."

"whatchoo talkin bout nigga?"

seriously? somebody get me Chappelle on the phone now. better yet, let's start up a fund to get the bum who sits outside my bodega down to city hall to protest.

i found this quote to be particularly hilarious:

"This could be the beginning of a movement," councilman Albert Vann said.

or it could just be time for you to shut the fuck. that's what i would do if i was trying to ban the 'n' word in new york freaking city. i would shutthefuckup. shut. the. fuck. up.

and for those of you too lazy to click the link, here's the best part of the article, a quote from Chris Rock:

"What, is there a fine? Am I going to get a ticket?" Rock mocked in a Reuters interview when asked about the City Council move. "Do judges say, '10 years, nigger!"'