Things of Beauty, things that are Scary, so Let's all Dance with the Green Fairy

It is Halloween, and for the first time in my life, I do not feel as though it arrived to quickly.  October 31st sauntered up to us and casually asked if we could spare a piece of candy.  The exodus of this beautiful month leaves me weary yet satisfied.  The days preceding Halloween have been nothing but pure maniacal joy.

The Giants have once again won the World Series.  After three times in five years do you not see a pattern. 

Peter likes to keep it super mellow on his birthday.

A flaming sugar cube perched atop a glass of absinthe has been the symbol of The Clog since its digital birth.  I decided to pay homage to one the internets most pointless blogs by cutting some rug with the green fairy.  She is just as sweet as ever.

Be safe tonight my fiends!

Not a Breakup, Just on a Break

Our relationship went strong for five whole years.  We shared a common madness that flourished and grew as time went by.  But like many relationships built on a foundation of self destructiveness, an ever growing level of toxicity began to creep into mine and Jesse's lives.  Our infatuation with the beautiful temptress Oktoberfest started showing signs of decay, and the past couple years brought with them just as many regretful experiences as joyous ones.  It takes a strong willed person to recognize a floundering relationship and walk away before someone gets severely hurt.  Jesse and I will always reserve a special place in our hearts for Oktoberfest, and perhaps one day our paths will cross again, but until then we have decided to see other people.
  

Each Oktoberfest Jesse and I recruit new people to join us on our beer fueled adventure.

The mandatory turkey leg left a strange taste in our mouths this year.

Half Moon Bay was a welcome change from the hell hole that is Downtown Campbell.  The Art and Pumpkin Festival boasts shorter beer lines, better artwork, friendlier people, and a greater variety of music 

There is no greater thrill than wieners sizzling on a grill.

Half Moon Bay is a Giants town to the core.

Check out the nose.  I rest my case. 

Steroids work on pumpkins too.

Trying to watch some football?  Just plop your lazy beer soaked carcass down in front of the giant television.

This little guy's drum game is strong.  

As we reflect on all of our fond Oktoberfest memories, we eagerly await making new ones in Half Moon Bay.

 

As I Lay me Down to Sleep...

whose Instagram shall I creep,

Kevin had best not make a peep,

the chips in my stomach bounce and leap,

this drunken slumber's dark and deep,

I am the wolf, they are the sheep!

Halloween is near my friends.

All subjects photographed without their consent and knowledge. 

There and Back in a day, The Chico Story

Much like how Paul Simon sang, "I've reason to believe we all will be received in Graceland," and early American settlers firmly believed in manifest destiny, I have long felt spiritually drawn to the great city of Chico California.  The better part of the last decade I have stood idly by and watched friends and loved ones make their pilgrimages to Chico.  Scheduling conflicts prevented me from attending some of these trips, while others I passed up because I didn't consider myself mentally, physically, and dare I say, sexually prepared for what lay in store for me.  Part of me wanted never to experience Chico so that I may keep its mystic alive in my mind.
Apparently all I needed was a weekday off from work and two willing traveling companions to change all of this.  On a whim, Riley, Jesse, and myself took a day trip up north to fill that empty space in my heart that was Chico.

Riley is seriously as raw as they come.  He is also a raw uncooked tube steak.

We stopped off in Yuba City to skate a "street plaza," but somehow ended up at this ancient ruin of a skatepark.    

Our first pint of Sierra Nevada upon arriving in Chico.  I swear it tastes better here than anywhere else on the planet earth!

The Bigfoot Ale door opening device is perhaps the greatest bathroom invention since the hand dryer.  Although I still love the hand dryer. 

Mini taster beers ensure that you won't get totally wrecked, or they help you decide what is the appropriate beer for you to get totally wrecked off.  

Chico skatepark is a whole different type of bizarre, and do not even get me started on the Loccs there.

With a couple beers in him The Raw Hot Dog can accomplish anything.  He managed to sneak us into an Atmosphere concert for free.  Even after building up Chico in my mind for the past six years, it far surpassed my expectations.