A Little Late for Day Eight

One of the guiding principles behind The Twelve Days, or five in the case of this particular year, of Clogmas is that posts can be earlier or later than their corresponding day. Typically they come later, but rest assured the posts will arrive.  So without further ado...

On the eighth day of Christmas,
The Clog gave to me
Eight ungodly ounces.

In actuality, the Limerita is really eight glorious ounces of zesty fun! The strange blend of booze, sugar and whatever the hell else Budweiser has decided to pump into it has made Limerita the undisputed king of refreshing beverages. Nothing tastes better on a hot summer day than one of these potent little suckers. And yes, I am well aware it is the dead of winter.

My Christmas came early this friday, because my good pal J Bone slithered down the chimney with a six pack of Limeritas and a unique and inspirational sign to go along with it. I am really starting to get into the spirit of the season.

p.s

This marks my 250th Clog post.

Five Days and Counting, but Who's Counting

There are only five days left before the presents are unveiled, eggnog is relentlessly consumed, and every man woman and child can take a collective sigh of relief because holiday shopping has come to an end. But if you subscribe to outrageous armageddon theories, then there are only several hours before the end of life as we know it. Is it any wonder, that in the face of impending doom, I have neglected to bring back the Twelve Days of Clogmas that I started a year ago. Aw man, I can't resist tradition. Looks like I will just have to jump in a several days late.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
The Clog gave to me
Seven seasonal photos.

A delicious spiral of nuts and molten sugar. The double meaning that comes with this caption conjures up feelings of great pain.

Dead as a doornail he was.

My favorite band only plays during the holidays and at the Cow Palace.

I am just going to assume this sign is referring to Mike.

The Dickens Fair has some seriously questionable puppets. hehe, DICKens.

Zack Wallin gets it up, and I throw out another penis reference.

I won't make a dick reference with this photo, but Nate is totally hydrating that root.

Christmas Wishtmas Lishmastless More or Lesstmassness

The Christmas list poses many troubles for a young lad. How can I possibly fit all of my needs onto one sheet of parchment? How can I figure out what all my complex and varied needs are within the span of several weeks? Most importantly, how can anyone truly fulfill all of these needs when many of them are not material, but emotion and spiritual? I am most likely making far too big a deal about this issue. Regardless, I have taken the time to post a few of the things I want, or feel the universe has already delivered to me and am much grateful for.

If ever there was a gift certificate I would use within hours of receiving, this is the one. There are plenty of shopping days left people, show me some love!

As a gift to me from the city of Los Gatos, fiberglass was placed around the top of the brick wall at the park near my parent's house. ironically the city did this shortly after I moved out. Better late than never I suppose.

I like to pretend that I own, and live inside, the Emerald Forest. In actuality I do not, but I would very much like to. Maybe I can start off by just working there.

It Needs to Start Somewhere

The advent calendar is similar to Pandora's Box, in that upon opening, all the chaos of the holidays is unleashed upon frightened consumers.

If I am opening Pandora's Box, chocolate better be involved in some way. Let's light this candle!

I know that winter is in full swing when the pumpkin spice latte is replaced by the wretched peppermint mocha.

Luckily I have these two to whisk me away to the Los Gatos Christmas parade, where the bands play loud and sangria flows like water down a mountainside.

Rain or shine my friends.

You would think after the first time he would have learned his lesson.

The Stanford band comes to Tommy's after the parade to play a little private show for loyal patrons/scumbags, and year after year, always manage to play a cover of one of my favorite Paul Simon songs. The combination of music and location always raise my spirits. Celebration Ale helps too.

Dale has never been featured on The Clog. Dale has probably never read or even heard of The Clog. The Clog has featured Celebration Ale, and Dale has served me Celebration Ale. It is about damn time this man's face found its way onto The Clog. Some things were just meant to be.

This guy grabbed a gourd and chanted so incoherent nonsense about "dope." Apparently weed saves lives.

Take the Red Pill, not the "Chill" Pill

My short lived high school journalism career peaked in excellence with the first, and only, article I wrote. The topic addressed in this article is an activity that, at the time, I felt was both unhealthy and somehow rapidly gaining mainstream appeal. Upon its release the article sparked school-wide controversy, and shortly after was deemed juvenile and unimportant to current school issues. Needless to say, I was let go from the journalism department several weeks later because of what my teacher called, "a lack of work ethic and poor use of class time." Whether this was the actual reason, or because my ideas were just too subversive and ahead of their time is unimportant. The real issue still centers around the harmful effects of "chilling." Are these troubles still as prevalent today as they were seven years ago? Read the following article, then decide for yourself.

Seasonal Boozing as Leaves Gracefully Turn

As soon as the final rotting jack o'lanterns of Halloween are stomped out by the feet of maniacal screaming children, all holiday fuss and confusion is focused like a laser beam on Christmas. Never mind Thanksgiving with all its abundant offerings of glorious gluttony, people much rather prefer overspending and peppermint bark. Don't get it twisted, I love many aspects of Christmas, but for the love of God, please allow us a November free of candy canes. In order to rekindle the spirit of fall and thanksgiving, here is a unique and simple twist on a classic drink.

Step 1: Combine vodka and kahlua in a glass filled with ice (you can probably see where this is headed).

Step 2: Skate down to your nearest 711 (here comes the twist) and grab a few pumpkin spice creamer packets. Pour a couple of them over the top of drink.

Step 3: Either stir and contents of the glass to fully incorporate them together, or (as I am known to do) sit back and watch the cream gradually swirl with the alcohols in the glass. You know have yourself the pumpkin spice white russian! Keep your minds out of the gutter and on Thanksgiving.

October tore through my world like a flood of lava. Jesse moved off of my couch (an event to which I shall shed a tear or three), The Giants won the world series, and I managed to create a costume out of a potato sack and some yarn. Here are a few visual aids to better understand the past month.

My father purchased a shirt, drank a beer, then insisted I grill him meat logs. Then he told my mother that she should have brought more beer.

Fall has the best sunsets, and this one just so happened to come at the end of an amazing day filled with skating, pie baking, drinking, and then more skating.

Austin received a tattoo and had the pleasure of viewing Tremors, one of Kevin Bacon's best films.

Game 1 against Detroit went swimmingly and would essentially set the tone for a World series sweep. This is a screen shot of the Panda after ripping Justin Verlander a new one. The score says it all.

This dude decided to celebrate by drinking a beer at work in plain sight. Real secretive pal.

Always make sure to have a big enough mouth opening to consume beer, or in my case, maybe I should have sewn that thing up nice and tight.

Cheers to Four Years

There is one unwavering certainty that unifies my otherwise chaotic existence, and it is mine and Jesse's tradition of attending Campbell's Oktoberfest. Nothing stands in our way of beer and polka music. Be it financial troubles (buy a flask and save money on beer) or an obtrusive work schedule (request the day off or come into work still heavily buzzed), we somehow manage to end up on the streets of downtown campbell with steins in hand.

Riding on the bus, riding on the bus, there's an empty seat, hope that isn't pee!

Hold onto your wiener tight and enjoy the ride, it's going to be a bumpy one. That didn't sound right.

It is fairly well known already, but I have a fondness for brass. This is the House of Brass, and I a have a renewed faith in mankind ever time I see it.

It is likely that this man has been rocking out and drinking beer since he was a wee lad.

Running into friends and family during Oktoberfest is never uncommon.

Kara rarely graces the Clog with her glowing smile, but Jesse's distorted mug always seems to.

A perfect October home.

Then Jesse urinated upon it.

The Redlands crew officially has the nicest home of anyone we know in downtown, kudos boys.

As tradition dictates, even after a day of gluttony and excess at Oktoberfest, one must always end the day with some sort of late night beer and food mission.

Victory and Vomit

The month of October is made that much sweeter if Giants baseball is alive and going strong. Something about the orange and black just compliments fall so well, and if things continue the way they have been, there may be a Giants game on Halloween. I better not get too ahead of myself. For the time being I will recap yesterday, a wonderful day.

There is a stillness surrounding Tommy's at 10 AM on a Thursday. A few dead leaves prematurely lay helpless on the ground.

"People act like just because they have jobs they can skip watching a Giants playoff game at Tommy's."

Sal turned twenty one on this glorious day and vomited sometime during the course of the night. I was not there to witness it, but I know it happened. Sal probably isn't a Giants fan. I am a fan of Sal, and a fan of the Giants. So I have to assume there is some correlation between these two things.

I am not sure whether or not Debase knew that the Giants won three games in a row against the Reds. Either way, his presence enhanced my already magnificent day.

In order to properly ignite a pile of coals, one must light no less than three cardboard boxes on fire and spend no less than half an hour fanning the flames. Peter is on a path towards success.

Trick or treat bitches!

Hello CalderClog my old Friend,

I've come to post on you again. And good sweet lord has it been a minute. It has been so long since my last post that I almost forgot this hellhole of an online journal existed. Is excess work at Starbucks to blame for my Clog negligence? I seriously doubt it. Could it be, that I am out skating and filming so much that there isn't even a spare twenty minutes during the day for me to spew a few jumbled sentences onto the internet? Hell no! Either way though, Fall is here.

And I will be God Damned if I don't start drinking pumpkin flavored drinks and eating similar tasting cookies. These little guys can be purchased at your local 7-11, and are surprisingly spicy. So spicy in fact, that I almost do not recommend ingesting them unless you have a strong cup of black coffee on hand.

Having Withdrawals

Muscle aches, nausea, vomiting, tremors, insomnia... all tell tale signs of heavy Redlands withdrawal. Each night for the past week I have woken up in a cold sweat, somewhat out of breathe, and not completely sure why I am sleeping in my own room and not the spare bedroom at Austin's. My alarm then proceeds to scream incessantly at me while I struggle to free myself from the boa constrictor-esque grip of my blankets. In the end all of this unfortunately turns out to be quite real, and before I know it I am churning out lattes and warming up scones.

Quitting Redlands cold turkey is notoriously hard to do, which is why I am lucky enough to have a few poorly filmed clips of skateboarding and mayhem to ease the process. After reminiscing on the good times spent down South a week ago, I edited the footage to an obscure Tom Waits song and slapped it onto the Clog. Enjoy this little cinematographic chestnut while I cry myself to sleep.

Coming down Hard

After vacationing in Redlands it is damn near impossible to grasp reality and cope with the drudgery of everyday life. The sobering effects of work and responsibility strike within hours of entering San Jose. This is alright however, because they make one appreciate the vacation moments even more. I have bookended my summer with Redlands trips and therefore have decided to unearth some photos of the first journey. I would include some from this most recent trip, but due to lack of camera, I have none. Don't be too jealous.

Get in and let's roll.

We looked at the water but left shortly after.

Steven is a gracious host. He made us tea and with a view.

This chick decided to take her landscaping into her own hands.

Hanger 24 may have stole my heart, due in part to the fact that its a brewery.

We spend a night with this guy.

Daryl is a fan of sleep, be it the car or a bed.

And her we have the drudgery of work and responsibility.