Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Get Your Freak On.

Hung out with the homie Karen G after her triumphant finish of the half Ironman. Thats pretty dedicated and fucking impressive. My exercise consists of chewing gristle on steak and deep throating 711 hot dogs.

What better way to celebrate a physical feat than to drink a beer? This Mikkeller over at Maproom made my scrotum happy. This shit was smooth as Billy Dee. Mikkeller has been brewing some great summer beers so if you see any on tap, I'd definitely recommend it.

Met up with Suzanne for dinner for her birthday over at Frontier (only because Schwa's A/C was busted...FAIL!). This hunter-esque restaurant took over the old Corosh building which was actually built and designed by Corosh himself - a womanizing artist alcoholic who was also an excellent carpenter. My hero.

The outdoor area was always pretty rustic and neat but now it looks like an unfinished house.

I felt a little uneasy sitting in front of a roaring bear's crotch whilst I drank my beer. Sort of TGIF-ish. This was one of those unbearably hot nights last week where the humidity just made everything damp and miserable. The hostess sat us in the ONE FUCKING SPOT that had no air flow, a/c or any sign of relief from the growing crowds that continually came in.

These did help though. A dozen oysters for $10 is always a nice starter. Using the ice to keep them shits cold to rub my arms down even a better idea. Did I mention that our spot had NO FUCKING AC, BREEZE, or air flow whatsoever?

The duck tacos were delicious...the tortillas that they were sitting on not so much.

These green beans bathing in its own juices and a pool of butter were delicious. I highly recommend this.

I ordered the venison cheese steak sandwich that was quite delicious. As you can see by the portion of the fries, I suppose the sandwich is the side dish to the fries.

Work the next day was ummm....productive. I know it looks like a butterfly, or vagina, or a butterfly's vagina, but rest assured its my own vagina with mustard.

I forgot where I saw this, but goddamn! These molds are getting eerily accurate. Except for the pegleg looking balls.

Went to the burbs to cook for Hernando's son's first bday party. The menu was already pre fixed and since all the prep was done, we treated ourselves to a couple of dry aged ribeyes.

Does it get more American than this? Fire, steaks, and semi automatics.

Went on a beer run and saw this restaurant that has American, African, Mexican Fine Dining and "healthy food." I don't think I need to say much more than what the fuck?
Doesn't American = Mexican these days? Chipotle anyone?

Speaking of Mexican, painted in Pilsen again in JP's backyard. I like the size of the wall because it is perfect to do one small piece and just chill. It's fun to just paint for the sake of painting.

Side Boob.

This post is a little light and tame because I did have a lot of work and didn't really go out. The idea of heading over to Wicker Park Fest after attending Pitchfork the weekend before made my pants tighter and my headband more fluorescent. I couldn't bear the thought of being around that many sweaty teens, hipsters, dickwads, cuntbags, douche nozzles, and assholes two weekends in a row. So I just mostly stayed in and watched Weeds. I'm near season 5...shits crazy son!

Monday, July 18, 2011

No Gang Signs, Just Pitchfork.

So I thought it was fucking hot last week. This past weekend was like walking into a disgusting gonorrheaic mouth. The humidity in Chicago is no joke and until you experience how uncomfortable it can be here, you'll see why people start clamoring for fall/winter...in other words, we are never happy.

These sexy looking donuts were going around work and all I can think of was two girls and a cup for some reason. Either way, an erection was had once this thing was in my mouth.

In my mission to paint every nook and free space at work, this strip was done after hours all with spray paint near the express registers. I just realized after this was done how sad the Chicago flag looks on both ends.

After this 14 hour day of doing my normal shift, cooking for a group, and then painting, I treated myself to the most delicious thing on earth next ranch dressing - the 7/11 chili cheese dog. I love the "fresh off the grill" statement. These awesome dog tubes roll on hot curling irons for hours and they have the nerve to say fresh off the grill. Well, I fell for it so I guess it works.

It's Pitchfork music festival time and in true work fashion, we pit foods against each other. The apparently already victorious raw bacon strip vs. the cool jazzy kale.

This is what I would dub as graffiti puke.

After a shitty long work week, it was a time for merriment and remorse as a comrade decided to go to another store in the company. She decided to celebrate at Goose Island Clybourn where after a lot of consideration, I decided to go with the duck reuben for dinner. It was gamey. It was rich. It was kind of perfect. It's not for the weak though. If you go for this, don't think about Daffy Duck and start giggling with food in your mouth like I did.

Ebony and Ivory. Jeanelle, you will be missed...Cody on the other hand, makes me want to puke in a kids face and punch an old lady in the stomach when I see his face.

When it was all said and done, the group of us did a pretty good job of representin.

On my way to work the next morning, ran into a literal rainbow coalition. White people hate being white so they try to be as "coloful" as possible.

Thanks to Meghan from work for hooking this up. I would never go to a festival at my age during this kind of heat UNLESS I get a pass like this! And yes I did take this in one of the VIP port a potties so I wouldn't look even more out of place.

Regardless of the pass, I still wanted to watch DJ Shadow with the peoples as the sound from the VIP stage area wasn't all that great. What sucked was that it was too light outside to appreciate the set that was specific to the visuals he had set up for the show.

Untitled from Won kim on Vimeo.

Here is my journey to get to the spot where I was standing.

After drinking a lot of shitty Heinekens, I got hungry and ambitious. I walked over to Publican and had dinner by myself like a loser, but it was a hell of a dinner. Can't ever go wrong with a sodium filled meal ala house made pickles.

Over salted frittes with eggs and pork rilletes or what I dubbed as shredded pork. The eggs were so perfect but was overwhelmed by excessive amount of salt. I like my rilletes to have a nice fat layer and not be so fibrous. Nitpicky sounding but when I pay these prices, I better get what I want dammit. I didn't feel as weird eating by myself and almost liked it more than having to talk to someone. I just ordered, ate, and left. I finished way before the two couples sitting on both sides of me having bullshit conversation and staring at my food.

Enjoyed the most expensive bloody mary on the roof top at DeWitt Hotel. I looked homeless in here but still stuck around to finish mah drink at least.

All fancy and shit, the DJ was too cool to DJ so he just stood while music played.

Seriously though. White people all look alike sometime. Pitchforkers are no exception.

Not to be outdone by the previous day, the weather beat down like Rodney King's arresting officers. It was fucking hot. You couldn't do anything to not sweat. So I just went for it and stood around to check out Odd Future for a few songs and realized that all I could hear was fucking bitch, rape, fucking, mouth fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. So I was well on my way to check out Shabazz Palaces in the shaded blue stage.

Like night and day. Not only was it 15 degrees cooler, the hippy contingent was out hardcore.

Now imagine all of them sweating.

Best graffiti I've seen in a while in a port o potty.

It was a very long work week. I was tired, delirious, and productive. I did get to hear a lot of great music and realized how much I missed good live music. Superchunk, Deerhunter, Toro y Moi, Shabazz Palaces, DJ Shadow, and Baths were some of the notables from Pitchfork that I was super impressed and excited about.

Thanks again to the Meghan H. for the hook up!

See y'all next week.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Hot Like Scrotum Skin.

Chicago finally got its dick wet with humid ass weather and high ass temperatures. So everyone whining about the cold can suck it. You got what you wanted so fuck off and pay my A/C bills.

Guess who's back? This little dude is up and running. His favorite hobbies include eating and trying to break his uncle's iphone.

On a good note, I got to paint a lot of cherries and get a nice pacman in there. Yes, this is serious work...

Especially when you see shit signs like this. Whoever's boyfriend or girlfriend said that you were good at art and writing FUCKING LIED TO YOU!!! This place obviously outsourced to a 4 year old who just learned how to write to do all of the boards.

Boiler Room had its one year anniversary party where buddy/co-worker Nathan West had an unveiling of his mural in the outdoor area. Couldn't take any pictures because of all the d-bags having fun and eating pizza. A lot of beer was consumed this evening...a lot.

This is an amazing shirt. I wanted to have a picnic on it or play checkers. It made my day.

At one of the houses I cook at has this bathroom right in the kitchen has a ton of mirrors. If you've ever wanted to feel weird and creeped out by your own junk, do this to your bathroom. You've never wanted to see your balls in so many angles.

Stopped by the homie Chef Abe Conlon's spot to do a little sign work and saw some pieces Jarret Spiegal and I did last year for our show. These fuckers are huge.

I think we simultaneously had our periods when we did this one.

Cold as ice.

This is when I love having the friends that I do doing what they do best. This is a shepard's pie that was fucking tasty as hell. I almost smashed the bowl after wards to lick whatever remnants were left behind.

Stopped by David's house where the family was celebrating his daughters baptism. One Asian male named Won pronounced Juan and fifty Latinos actually named Juan.

Brooks showed up to show that stereotype about black people liking fried chicken aren't true...wait a minute...

David also owns a really old painting of mine aptly hung in his bathroom to help you take a dump when looking at it.

Stopped by a friends art opening that was inside an apartment. This is Nick Bach in all of his Asian mutt glory. His art work is pretty fucking intense and very well executed...him on the other hand - the picture says it all.

So much detail work in this and great stuff going on until you look up and see a gay donut. That is some "art school shit."

Had a moment to breathe from working the whole week and got to check out the Logan Square Farmers Market and do an impromptu dinner for some really cool people. I love farmers markets but I gotta tell yah, you want to talk about Whole Paycheck? Quality was great but dang, the prices had my balls tingling with anger and bewilderment. Its like a spidey sense.

The host Andrew whipped out some surprises of his own and shucked a bunch of oysters! These meaty little fuckers had me ready to fuck a mule.

One of the dishes I had a chance to take a picture of. Pan seared perch on top of sauteed rainbow chard, morel beurre blanc sauce, topped off with micro arugula and ribboned sorrel.

I had a great time this day and can't thank Lee and Andrew enough for hosting and Shawn Smith organizing this all. Cooking without pressure in a home kitchen that is better outfitted than most professional restaurants with cool people in the mix was just awesome.

Thanks again to Lee, Andrew, Shawn, Caity, Nathan, Nick, Abe, and you mothafucks for reading!