I had never heard of the Notting Hill Carnival, as I am sure most of you have not either. It has quite a proud, yet tumultous, history. If you have any interest check it out here. It is a celebration of the large Jamaican and Trinidad population of people in the area of Notting Hill. The area in which I live and work, and from my experience the best area of London. It is where some of the greatest music and art have come from in London. It is also an area mired in racial tension.

My pub, The Pelican, is in the heart of the action, and everyone told me to expect the craziest party Ive ever seen. Coming from New Orleans and Mardi Gras I dismissed them as silly Brits. I was the silly one. It was hands down the wildest 2-day party I have ever seen. I worked about 30 hours in 2 days staying awake by feeding off adrelane, booze, and drugs. All I could think is that I wish I had my true mates with me.

I bounced my first guy. He called one of my staff, Nadius, a "fuckin cunt." So I threw him against the door. He was about 5'5" and 120 lbs, but hey, I showed him. He then told me how he will come back and stab me. I'm waiting. I'd love a stab wound. Feeding off my testoerone, I tried to move a much larger, much blacker man from behind the bar. When he turned around he appeared to be on crack. Not that I know what that looks like, but crack is crack, and this mother was cracked out. He looked at me and then tried to head butt me. I moved back in time to just take it to the chin, and then he threw me down a couple stairs. As I collected myself I saw him charging at me while fishing for something in his pocket. I was scared. I heroically hid in the women's bathroom. The real bouncer we hired (Dre) got rid of him.

I realized I hadn't reported much from London, and I thought this was worth recounting. Cheers.

so growing up i always wanted a hedgehog. why you ask? well probably because i've always been a little off my rocker. anyway, i was visiting norway a couple of weeks back to do a site visit for work. in the evenings, we would party (which by the way in norway one beer runs you around $8-$9). on one of my drunken walks back to the hotel, i encountered this mythical creature and thought to myself, "damn it mom why didn't you ever buy me a hedghog?!" i've heard that hedghogs are prickly with soft bellies so i had to find out. and they do...have soft bellies.

Well, the time is upon us. We have many questions to be answered and EVERYONE must be heard from.

Will the IC make the NYE celebration an annual affair?
Will the IC members be able to agree on a locale for the event?
Will the IC hurricane destroy the celebration of a new year with bitter arguments and drunken rage?
Will Miller makeout in front of his girlfriend again? (though, as the only witness that girl did kiss Miller)
Will Williams steal another kiss from Mrs. Dalrymple at midnight?
Will Lubahn, Chambers, and Weiss make up for their absence in 2007?

I believe all of these things will ring true. So, the real question is where will the party take place. These are the cities I have heard mentioned and everyone has there pros and cons.


Austin would be money for NYE and there are two Omnis there as well. It would be a lot cheaper for most of us and I think it would be a great time. Of course, this is not the most adventurous of excursions.


Denver has been getting a lot of attention from many... and I know the Bears are pushing for this one. We could go early and do some skiing. I believe there is an Omni there as well. But this would be a pricey one.


Fort Worth. A great town and even cheaper as Hotel Mazur and The Lubahn Resort would be able to house most of us. But it's Fort Worth, and probably the least exciting place to have NYE.


Miami. The Mazurs have been pushing this one since Jan 1 2007. It would be amazing and we could probably find a lot of Cuban guys to party with... The only problem with this one is there is no hotel hook up.


San Diego. A beachside property for NYE would be a change of pace and I'm sure the Portillos would be excited about this one. We could also talk about San Fran, but no LA. Sorry, I just wont go back there. Omni-present as well.


These are the things, These are the things, These are the things, These are the things dreams are made of....

Another One Bites the Dust



Many of you had me pegged as the next one to go, but Mr. and the future Mrs. Dalrymple surprised us all (including my dearest Piper). Bear told me the news when we were on the beach in Brighton. My first reaction was not, "Congratulations" but the not so unexpected selfish remark, "Piper is going to kill me." But we were very happy to be the first to congratulate and party with The Bears. I asked Kevin for some guidance, "How did you know?" He answered in that wonderful frank way Kevin always does, "I always knew, so I figured what's the point of waiting."

The night they returned from Florence (where he did the deed) we decided to put the girls to bed early and wander around London. We smoked 5 J Birds, and laughed and reminisced about the "good times"
-Lubahn's quick thinking shower when the Darling's arrived at bonged-out Trail Lake. And Miller's surprising quick cleaning to de-chronic the house.
-Weiss enchanting every woman at the Vegas Ghost Bar
-The many times Lee would break into Lubbock and get some solo high time
-The last night in Chicago when Bear, Williams and I got drunk on red wine till Bear had to leave for the airport. Eventually pissing of Katie when he kept setting off the metal detector because he couldnt walk a straight line, and continued to walk into the side of it.
-That we both think Lee stole those fuckin deer plates. And how we both think Lubahn deserves it for his dog eating the only good shoes Lee has ever owned

So, let me be the first to say congratulations Bear and Katie. And that, we're down to 6 single men. We are growing up my friends. And the best thing about that is that we're growing old together.

Love and Always Openly Awkward Affection,

HISTORY OF THE IC

I read a quote this morning by Henry Adams that said:

`History will die if not irritated. The only service I can do to my profession is to serve as a flea.'

This week, two friends from high school have been crashing at my place. It's been nice. I have a lot acquaintance-friends here, but none that carry much significance. Having these two guys here this week reminds me that, a crucial element of true friendship is History.

We have that here. We've known each other since the tail-end of pimple-faced adolescence (no offense Chambers) to fatherhood (L). The thing I love about old friends, is that there is not need to re-trace and stumble around bullshit about `Where your from'. We already know that.

I guess I'm being Johnny Melancholy bloggist b/c the IC is dormant. The more we allow communication to dwindle, the more distant, removed friends we become. Don't let that happen.

TRENDS DON"T MAKE FRIENDS

Hi caucasians. So yesterday, I went shopping for the first time since my Mom bought me an orange OP (Ocean Pacific) tee and Reebok PreSeasons.

I was aware of the Skinny-jeans trend of pop culture and have mocked it since it's inception. I thought I was just being a cynic, but by looking at them, I thought `They just look uncomfortable.' I think, if you are sacrificing comfort for trendiness or cool points, you are completely not cool.

So, yesterday, I found what I thought were cool jeans, in my size (48x44). They were in an assortment of colors, so I took three pair back to the changing room. I had no idea, but I'd just brought back, 3 pair of ...SKINNY JEANS.

I'm a big dude and have big legs (college nicknamed: Tree Trunks). In trying to pull the first pair up to my waist, the section that covers your thighs, got caught on my calves. By the time I got them up to my waist, I was sweating. After buttoning them and causing my testicles to groundhog back into my tummy, I looked into the mirror to observe my ridiculousness.

The pants were gray and, my first thought was: ``I look like I'm wearing Raulings Little League pants.'' It was awkward. All I needed were some stirrups, Pony cleats, a `Rowdies' jersey and Big League Chew.

As I exited the room, a girlie said `How did those work for ya?'

`Not.' I said. She laughed and I said, `I don't know how guys wear those things. I was afraid I'd never get them off.'

When I looked up, I saw a guy waiting in line for the fitting room. He'd heard me. I looked at his get-up: Spiked fro-hawk, Ramones T-shirt, studded belt and of course, ripped Skinny Jeans. He tried to ignore my glare, but when he made eye contact with me, I smirked. I realized two things: A) I had Skinny Jeans 17 years ago. They were called Wrangler's and I wore them on Pizza Friday. B) He probably sits on his balls a lot.

Lastly, Kevin, you in Skinny Jeans might be the most absurd thing ever witnessed. Unfortunately for Michael Mazur and Matt Chambers, they might still look like JNCOs.

In a strange move today Kevin McHale traded Kevin Garnett to the Houston Comets of the WNBA. In return the Timberwolves will receive every player on the team. The Timberwolves also get the owner's kids, the rights to the (281) Houston area code, and the team van. Garnett had this to say, "WHAT THE FUCK? Kevin McHale..........LUNATIC. I told that alien bitch I didn't want to be traded. " The team had a press conference. One of the many questions directed towards McHale was simply "Why?". He answered with this, "We'll that's a good question. So here's a good answer. The Minnesota Timberwolves are going to diversify. So I will be the proud General Manger of a Brothel and the Houston Comets will be my employees." After a reporter replied, "Kevin brothels are illegal." Kevin simply replied, "FUCK YOU BITCH I'LL CUT YOUR THROAT." He then gave the international eat out sign to everyone in the room. It should also be noted that McHale was just wearing a Speedo and a pink boa to the press conference.