Monday, June 25, 2012

Me Rikey Rong Time.


























The homie Ryan from Virtue Ciders brought back a gem straight from England. A cider produced by one of the most renowned cider houses around. Super farmy, no carbonation and barely sweet. I felt like I was drinking apple milk straight from an apple teet. Ill never get to have it again unless I go to England which I don't plan on doing until my teeth get fucked up.




















Lucky for us, there were other beers to try out. It was an antacid kind of night. A lot of sours, chicken thighs, and crying. It got weird.




















When's the last time beer pong happened upon you? If your answer is last week, then you sir or madame are a total douche. This was actually a really cool party combining cheap and rare beers, summer weather, and a lot of summer dresses. It was a good time but a free comedy show awaited us.


























On the complete opposite side of town, Tony Trimm's boy Hannibal Burress was doing a set at the Laugh Factory. If you ever think you work a lot, this man is a fucking machine. Gigs upon gigs upon gigs.


























Dude killed it as usual. Although the acts before him made me want to gouge my ears. I now understand the 2 drink minimum because if I was stark sober, I may have killed someone very hilariously listening to some of the comedians.




















I tried to make it to the end to see Eric Andre's set, but being next to scenesters and groupies was all I could take. I also found out that the show didn't end till 330am. I'm aight on that.




















Plus, I had to paint in the suburbs in the morning. I can't remember the last time I saw haaaaaaaayyyyyy!!!!


























Cove painting a waffle cookie child.


























It's like looking in a mirror.CZR would soon make out with this board soon afterwards. Talk about awkward.


























Cyfn forgot how to spell his name so he just stuck with a C for cuntface.


























While the three other guys got to paint on solid wood walls, I painted on saran wrap.




















I'd say it came out okay considering what I use saran wrap for...condoms.




















Magnum condom.




















I found some wood and painted an orgasming slug.


























This is CZR's happy face. He's seriously dreaming about something going down son!


























Back at it the next day, I decided to paint CZR's nightmare.


























Speaking of live art, this lady kinda made us look like little bitches.

Did I mention that there were tanks all up in this park? I love old army equipment, I just don't like seeing white kids all over it demoralizing its awesomeness. It aint a jungle gym jimmy, stop stroking the cannon.




















Feeling inspired from the old lady painting bitchin realistic flowers, I decided to hit up the Art Institute to check out the Lichenstein exhibit. This was one of my favorites.


























Me rikey.












































































So awkward walking around with a boner.


























This was the last part of the exhibit. It's freaking amazing seeing these paintings up close and realizing that all of the dots were done by hand. I also realized how many people bite the shit out of Lichenstein. His layout and use of contrasting bold lines is just awe inspiring. This exhibit is definitely worth checking out. All kinds of variety that you'd never expect from his body of comic inspired work. I was definitely humbled by all of its intricacies and work ethic.


























This was pretty cool too in the modern wing. I can't really get into the modern wing...it reminds me of a warehouse of leftover work just hanging with no rhyme or reason. The layout feels like a college kids dorm room with random art work all over. There's awesome work, but there is some work I just want to kick the shit out of.




















What goes with art? a drink at an uber ornate lobby of a hotel. The Palmer house downtown makes you feel like youre an extra in The Shining.




















This banquet hall once had Lil Jon DJ for a NYE party. Definitely loses its charm hearing echoes of "AWHAT??" "YEAAAAAAHHHHHH" and the all time favorite "OKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK."


























Work. Did you know I make food for people? Smoked golden beets, goat cheese mousse, truffle oil, pea tendrils, roasted kumquats and lemon thyme vinaigrette. The next course was a hot dog.


























Fat lazy pussy. My favorite kind. They are delicious.


























I have no idea why my phone gets this weird glaze look some times but after some prep work, I went to check out the newly opened Atlas Brewpub in Lincoln Park.


























And boom goes the dynamite. How do you open to the public without having the only thing that makes you guys interesting?




















Yeah, its a shitty picture but imagine that you are in any bar in Lincoln Park and its pretty much the same thing.




















I don't care to fix this picture. I've seen this kind of wall at a lot of places. There really isn't any character about this "brewery/pub." It looks like every other bar that's trying to be a club. I'd expect shit cocktails over craft beer here. Not that it should look like a shit hole but its not very beer centric to me. Revolution and Haymarket did it right.




















I got to see the vats of beer that wasn't available to taste yet. Pass me a Gumball head already.


























Happy pig roast day. This little fucker had every single part eaten. I gnawed on the ears, cut up the cheeks and fished out the brain. My parents always knew to go for the head knowing the kids would be scared of the head but I now know better. There will be a fight to eat the face son.




















It was a cool party with all the hottest male home brewing models the city has to offer.




















We weren't allowed upstairs.


























So we were all banished to the basement where the bands were. The fans were going nuts.

We always knew Bucky liked being surrounded by cocks, but this is just ridiculous.


























At least there was decent beer left.




















The day started a little late because of the previous nights activities which involved a lot of beer and waking up on my futon with only my pants missing...again. "Happy pride day, now go back to the fucking piss line you queen."


























Halsted was a sea of empty Miller Lite cans and used penises.


























Benny the bull made an appearance. It looks like the carpet does match the drapes.


























I have no idea what to say about this except this bitch knew how to walk in those stilettos a little too well. This also made me realize that girls in this city look stupid walking in heels. This was a sad sad day for women all around Chicago who thinks they carry themselves well in heels. This Eastern European immigrant gay can walk in heels better than you.


























Speaking of immigrants, Sergio tried his best to look white with this wig that ended up being made up of shaved pubes. He was in heaven.




















Tired of hearing shitty club music, hot pants, 13 year old confused lesbians, bears, cocks, leather, and suburban gays, Dio and I went to check out Nellcote. Jared Van Camp's newer spot. Layout is similar and kind of over the top in my opinion. However, I didn't feel homeless here even though I looked homeless still wearing my "parade" outfit of a black tee shirt and jeans.


























This restaurant totes a hefty emphasis on grinding their own flour and making everything flour related from scratch. The breads were pretty fucking good...I preferred some rolls to others but the aerated butter made everything taste good. The pasta dish was cooked perfectly but I would liked to have more salt.


























The neopolitan pizzas on the other hand were fucking phenomenal. This pizza had an awesome crust, true to the style, thin ass crust with well seasoned toppings. The burrata was a bit overwhelming but the flavors were really delicate and tasty.


























The margherita was really really fucking good. The sauce was perfect and you can tell the sauce was made from REAL TOMATOES and made from scratch. Sweet, salty, and great consistency. I would pleasure a hairy old Italian to get jars of this sauce and again, the crust was amazing.

Yeah, I took a while to get this entry. My bad. I had a lot of fucking work. Look out for more guest bloggers!
If you think you'd be able to do a decent entry (it can't get any worse than my entries, trust me), then let me know! I would love to see other perspectives and lives around the city. Revisecmw@gmail.com

Thanks!

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