From the City Market Sign Blog.
The Greatest Pumpkin
Drip coffee with a vegan pumpkin donut from Mighty O is a fucking miracle.
No Such Thing as Bad Press
Competition for Party Crasher is fierce on Halloween so we were lucky that Scaraoke was one of 3 parties mentioned in the column this year. The picture isn't from our party, but I'm certainly not going to complain about being usurped by such a lovely hairy man chest.
NFT Radar: Qube
X-Posted from Not For Tourists.
I don’t usually get this way about high-end restaurants, but I’m kind of obsessed with Qube. It’s largely due to the fact that they have tons of ways to accommodate people on a budget. For starters, their happy hour menu boasts $2-6 bar bites and drink specials. Then they have monthly food and drink specials which offer different combinations of drink and plate specials for reasonable prices. Their regular menu is a rotating 3-course offering. You can order any combination of 3 dishes from the surf, turf or vegetarian menu. For most people, splitting one of these 3-course delights is plenty of food. And by the way, the food is outstanding. At first, I distrusted the hoity-toity sounding “Asian Food with French Culinary Training” theme. But these guys pull it off without heirs. It’s as tasty as it is beautiful, and it’s served with friendly enthusiasm. Dude. QUBE.
1901 2nd Ave 98101
206-770-5888
http://www.quberestaurant.com
First NFT Radar: White Horse Trading Co.
So baby's first On Our Radar for Not For Tourists has been published! I shall inform you of each of my Radars as they come, so watch this space! (And also read NFT for other people's opinions, should you ever tire of mine.)
A.K.A. Ye Olde Secret Pub. It's difficult to find the White Horse as it's tucked away deep in Post Alley. The diminutive signage, which is simply a picture of a white horse above some words about wine and beer, is extremely easy to miss. But once you figure out where the door is, you'll be glad you made the effort. Sink into their soft, old-timey leather couches and enjoy a variety of smooth imported beers you’ve never heard of. You’ll think you’ve gone back in time and been inducted into a Gentlemen’s Club; especially when you receive the bill. The modern inflation on Seattle ale prices does not affect the patrons of the White Horse. This leaves you free to sample everything, including the fantastic cider as dry as Death Valley, a glass of Meade and the Pimm’s Cup. The former is a wine enthusiasts’ Long Island Iced Tea: a blend of 5 wines, sugar, and lemon that goes down easy and warms your tummy. You may want to rest on the couch a bit longer after finishing one of these.
1908 Post Alley 98101
206-441-7767
I'm Published! Part 2
For the cheapskates (like myself), the entire Seattle Not For Tourists book is now available on the website! Here are shortcuts to the important pages (i.e. the ones scribed by me):
*Downtown/Denny Triangle
*Ravenna
*Upper Queen Anne
*Cal Anderson Park
*Hiking
*Swimming
*SeaTac Airport
*Nightlife
And my crowning achievement:
*Seattle Center
Lower Queen Anne/Seattle Center is down at the moment, but hopefully will be fixed soon.
Also coming soon are my regular reviews in the On Our Radar section. Look ma! I'm a journalist!
A Man of Lynchian Proportions
Preston R. Koeger is 97 years old. Eddie Izzard was right. When you are young, you want to tell everyone how old you are and round up to the nearest fraction so that they think you are an adult. When you are an adult, you don't want anyone to know how old you are because you want them to think you are younger. When you are 97, you tell EVERYONE. And you should. Because it's damned impressive.
You also want to impart your wisdom on everyone you meet. You may ask them questions, but you don't care about the answers. It's merely a means to segue into your next rant.
We met Preston R. Koeger at the new Earl's on the Ave. He doesn't mind telling you he's 97 years old. He wears a carefully pressed beige trench coat and a fedora with a feather in it. His silk tie is tied “the French way” so that they will last longer. He doesn't mind telling you he owns ties that are 100 years old because of his way of tying them. He walks with a cane. Every tooth in his mouth is chipped. He does not drink scotch. You may as well pour gasoline in a glass, says he of Scotch. He is a bourbon man.
Preston R. Koeger asks if you are a student. But he only asks so that he may tell you that HE is a student. Of law. At the University of Washington. He's 97 years old. Why NOT study law?
Preston R. Koeger is a strong proponent for the 2nd amendment. Do you know what the second amendment is? It's the Right to Bear Arms, isn't it? You're goddamned right it is. Would you like to see his NRA membership card?
Preston R. Koeger doesn't believe in marriage. Why marry one woman when you can make ALL the women happy. He doesn't mind making the ladies happy. He also isn't afraid to take each and every one of the women in this bar over his knee.
Preston R. Koeger uses a cane because he has metal in his knee. He will show you his scar even though he is a little shy about exposing his legs. Not like women today. He was in the army for 31 years.
According to Preston R. Koeger, Sinatra was a brat. Carey Grant, now that's a real man.
There hasn't been a good movie made in Hollywood in 20 years, says Preston R. Koeger. What's the last film that Preston R. Koeger liked? He can't remember the name of it but it was about a pretty blonde who goes to law school. In the end, she solves the murder case in the courtroom. The questions she asks! No one in the court has ever heard anything like these questions! Preston R. Koeger is also going to law school. Would you like to see his student ID?
Preston R. Koeger must be going because it is time for him to visit the Triple Door. He used to sing opera at the Triple Door back when it was just a garage. Because of that, he has a lifetime membership there. He can have all the free food and drink he wants. He will shake your hand goodbye and it will be a strong handshake. Not like the limp pansy handshakes that some people give.
World Gone Mad
I just had something really weird happen to me. One of those “city” moments, I suppose. I was walking to work, as always, my body focussed on getting there and my brain focussed on wanting to be back home in bed, when a woman who was passing me stopped directly in my path, thus forcing ME to stop. She was either mid-forties or a well-worn late thirties. She was dressed like a frumpy office underling so I didn't think anything was amiss with her at first. In fact, I thought perhaps I was meant to know her. She looked directly at me and said, in a very angry tone, “Hey!”. At this point, I was wracking my brain trying to figure out if I knew her and was supposed to smile and say hello or if there was some other reason she'd chosen to stop in front of me. She didn't give me much time to mull this over, however, before she SMACKED ME IN THE ARM. It wasn't painful, but it was hard enough for me to understand that it was MEANT to be painful. “RIGHT HERE!” she said through gritted teeth, and then she WALKED OFF. This whole event lasted approximately 3 seconds, so, naturally, I was left quite stunned. I spun around and shouted the first thing that came into my mind to say: “What the FUCK, lady?!”. But she had already moved on and wasn't about to turn around. It was then that I noticed a witness. A man on a smoke break had seen the whole event transpire. I looked at him looking at me. “What the fuck was that about?!” I said to him. “I don't know that lady. I've never seen her before in my life,” I was compelled to explain. “That was scary,” he said. By now she was at the end of the block, ready to cross the street. And I was left with nothing more than to continue my walk to work. Was she off to punch other unsuspecting peda-commuters in the arm? Or was I an isolated incident? Did she THINK she knew me? Mistake me for a wrongdoer? Or was I simply identified as the temporary cause of all her problems? Is she, in fact, a cleverly disguised madwoman? Or was she, up until that moment, perfectly normal? Sadly, I will be left to ponder these questions forever. I may not even recognize her if I were to see her again, unless, of course, she is still wearing that giant red bow…or she punches me again.
Beware of the red bow!
Who Needs the Kwik-E-Mart? I Dooooo!
As you may or may not be aware, to promote the upcoming Simpson's movie, 7-11 has turned 10 of their stores nation-wide into bonafide Kwik-E-Marts complete with Kwik-E-Mart products like Buzz Cola, Krusty-Os and Homer's favorite sprinkled donuts. Why they didn't create a Duff Beer is beyond me, but the rest of the products are pretty cool. One of these stores is in Seattle, mere blocks from my work! My co-workers and I took a trip there last week to film and take pictures and, of course, buy some Krusty-Os (which are actually just Fruit Loops. But still!!).
Here are my pictures and here is a video we took of my co-worker buying his serial. We added titles to promote our website, of course:
Those Meddling Christians
Christians are apparently becoming as obnoxious as drunk crazy people on the bus. This morning, on my express bus downtown, I was sitting in standard “Isolated Commuter” mode, with my ipod ear buds in and my face in a book, when I felt a tap on my leg. I looked over at the girl sitting next to me and saw her mouth a question to me. Thinking that perhaps she was a tourist or someone who needed a quick answer, I turned my ipod off, leaving my ear buds in and asked her to repeat her question. “Are you going to school at the UW?,” she asked. I politely replied that I was not a student and turned my face back to my book, but the questions continued. “Do you work?” “Where do you work?” “Are you an actor?” It was then that I noticed the well worn travel bible in her lap. Crap!
By the way, I know that the Bible has thousands of pages and really small print, but don't these people ever get tired of JUST reading ONE book? I mean, Charles Dickens wrote some pretty good stuff.
Her barrage of questions continued. As the bus pulled onto the express lane, I realized I was in for the long haul and put my book away and took out my ear buds. She asked me if I'd ever traveled. When I mentioned Holland, a euphemism for “I got fucked up in Amsterdam”, she was at a loss. “What's in Holland?” I was tempted to answer her questions with 100% disclosure to piss her off, but opted for the route of seeming as boring as possible to get her to leave me alone. I told her about the Van Gough and Anne Frank museums, both of which I'd skipped in favor of debauchery. In fact, the only museum Faye and I visited in Amsterdam was the Sex Museum. We were high as kites as we walked around giggling about erect cocks throughout history. I did not tell this to the Little Missionary That Could. She told me that she'd been to Rome to follow the life of Paul. She asked me if I was familiar with the Apostle, Paul. I told her I was, hoping she would peg me as already converted and shut up. But nay. She GRABBED MY LEFT HAND and said “No ring, I see. Not married?” I confirmed her obnoxious observation. “How old are you?” I told her. “Do you have any children?” I found this to be a strange question coming from a Christian who already knew I wasn't married, but I told her I had no children. “I see,” she responded. “Just staying focused, huh?” WHAAA? What does that MEAN?! Yes. I am unmarried and childless at 28 because I am focused on…preserving my chastity? It does take quite a lot of effort whatwith all of Satans temptations at every turn. She told me that she'd asked if I was an actor because SHE is part of a “Ministry Improv Group” that travels around the state torturing people in schools and prisons. She said she thought I looked “cool” and might be involved in acting. I should have told her that I do dabble in acting and perhaps she's seen one of my films. I played Tittania in “A Midsummer Nights Cream”. Didn't see that one?
We arrived at the first stop downtown and thankfully, her fellow missionaries, littered throughout the coach, no doubt harassing other poor, unsuspecting commuters, told her it was time to depart. With a hopeful look on her face, she asked me if this was my stop. It wasn't, but if it had been, I probably would have stayed on an extra couple of blocks.
Beware of the bible toting young people on the morning commute!
Effed by the Wind 