Monday, August 5, 2013

123 Burger Shot Beer

The first thing you notice is the girls who work there. They are dressed like cheap Hooters waitresses. Even if they were hot though I wouldn’t care. I’m the least horny drunk person ever. And I don’t trust bartenders/women who flirt with me. Combined with my subpar looks those are strikes one, two and three for romance. Oh and that’s a bowling reference, not baseball. Hooks in the house. Gobble, gobble, gobble!

1.)    Dollar burgers. Cheese and fried onions on a soft seedless bun. Tiny. Only a mouthful. Smaller than a slider. They are adorable. I could eat one of these burgers every day, forever. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. A burger a day and you’ll be dead soon. How selfish do you want to be though? Doctors got to stay in business too. They’ve got mouths to feed, Jags to lease and treadmills to buy.

2.)    Utah! Give me 2…dollars for a shot. Kind of a girly shot. And it looks watered down too. Full confession. I prefer whiskey but I chugged a bottle of green apple Mad Dog in college once. So I will drink anything if I think it’ll get me drunk. I don’t think these shots will though. Probably because I’m 29 years old. I’m full grown. 

3.)    Beer here! Stars and suds. Caviar wishes and brewski dreams. $3 for a non-happy hour beer is good in NYC.  If it’s not happy hour why are you there? For the burgers. You should have invited me I work right there geez.


I don’t hate this place. I don’t hate a lot of places. 123 is cheap and cheap food is a great excuse to grab drinks though. Here's my thought process. Go home and it’s a $10 minimum for delivery. Plus tax and tip. That’s $14. So if you come here you can spend $3 on burgers. Then get 4 beers and only spend another dollar. Tip? Sure I’ll tip. Better get another though. Hell, 5 beers after work on a Wednesday. This is America right? 

70/100




Friday, August 2, 2013

Polar Bears

This is a post I've used as a writing sample a few times recently. People seem to not hate it but I don't think I can sell it so I'll throw it up on here. Thanks for reading.

Polar Bear
The Coca Cola bear isn't wearing sunglasses. His white fur is soaked with the blood of your precious children. Their innocence intact until their intestines are dislodged. Loosed onto the ground like an overfilled shopping bag, tearing open from the bottom. Its contents coloring the crushed snow. 

Well, good news. We are now free to destroy these animals. Smile you son of a bitch.

The polar bear is the spirit animal for the energy conservation movement. A noble cause that looks foolish to discredit. However, their selection of this monster was a poor choice. A recent NPR story has brought to our attention that these animals are in no danger of dying off. In fact because of a hunting ban 40 years ago they have experienced a baby boom. Also as seen on the Colbert Report all bears are godless killing machines.

On a personal note I've always wanted a bear skin rug. I’d invite somebody, maybe a coworker, over to show it off after a few too many glasses of wine. We take our shoes and socks off and grab at the fur with our toes. "It's so real!" she says as a pull her close and look deep into her blue eyes. Meeting her apprehensive shocked gaze with a fierce look of determination. We exchange no words as my grip grows tighter on the small of her back. We twist to the down to the floor.  Settling on the bear rug. Looking past her face. Above. Into the glassy eyes of the once mighty fallen beast. Imagining myself riding it up a mountain. Grabbing the fur as I thrust. Like a wave traveling hundreds of miles. Up and down.  Until it crashes into the rocks. Broken. Spent. Dead. As dead as the formerly powerful  creature beneath us.  “God damn” I say. Still panting. “This rug really ties the room together.”