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Brandon's not quite World Tour continues Sunday with a stop in the Windy City. After two days in Baytown, I'm off. I have a special place in my heart for Chi-town and I intend to once again endear myself to the great city of Chicago in hopes that someday she will welcome me with open arms. Any suggestions of where to hit up are accepted and encouraged. And if you are thinking Ed Debevics, keep it to yourself.

This is what it's come to...

I go away for one week and come back to find that my Cubano friend Nino spent a night on the town with my intern. The results were an evening at Club Nino

It takes a minute are two to download, but I promise it's worth your time.

Rock and stroll...

I'm in Cleveland now, home of the...well nothing really. Unless you count transients. I visited the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I am very torn on it. If I had not gotten free tickets, I most likely would have been pissed. Since it was free, it seemed a bit cooler. Top item on display: Jim Morrison's report card from the semester of school he attended at St. Pete College. I was not aware such a legend lived in area at any time. Contrary to what the Fi wanted to hear, I did not have a vision of Morrison with any native americans. 2nd best item: The entire outfit collection from N'Sync "Certified as worn" during the video shoot from the No Strings Attached song where they are in the boxes pretending to be dolls.
Since I am a new-age punk rocker, I found the punk-rock exhibit riveting and enhancing. It...was...awesome.
As a side note, I choose not to divulge my occupation, however this trip has gained me legendary status. I have gained some serious street cred and my reputation is spreading fast. I am a no non-sense, red-ass handing sharpshooter. Don't mess with me or my associates, because i will smear your crap all over US.
(I had a sweet Sid Vicious Pic to go with this post but I am slightly clueless working on a Mac.)

The semi-real OC...

The adventurer that I am, I made my way down to Huntington Beach last night with come comrades. It's is almost Laguna Beach so I figured I could say that I have been to Laguna Beach. Go ahead pull out a map, try to argue with me. Anyway, after two hours, Huntington Beach is not Laguna Beach, or at least not what I see on TV.

We ended up at the Inka Bar. It's a very cool swanky place where E-F listers might hang. It had a groovy bar that was water colored under the glass, which is cool because everyone likes to drink on water. I was cool, acting cool, sipping the beer cool, even taking out my money cool. Apparently, if your rich though and frequenting Huntington Beach, cool is not a necessary quality.
Sight 1) A young man wearing a Huntington Beach shirt. Never wear the shirt of the town you're in. That's no way to get laid.
Sight 2) The Clapper. This is your new nickname a-hole. Instead of talking to chicks with a smooth line, you chose to walk around clapping to the beat of the music...loudly...until they turned and you could give them the 'what's up' nod.
Sight 3) An impromptu dance-off. Never have I witnessed three guys try to outdance each other at a bar to Missy Eliot and Ciara. I guess it's good that some fads never make it all the way across the continent.

In closing, Huntington Beach does not equal Laguna Beach, next time, we spend the extra 20 minutes driving down the PCH to LC's place.

The Real OC...

Brandon leaves tomorrow for Orange County. I've left Stephen and LC a message to see if they want to get together for lunch. I haven't heard back from either one yet. After that, it's on to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I'll try to take a picture with The Clash to sahre with everyone.

My Heritage

In case anyone wondered about how I made it through my childhood. I talked to The Wandering Jew (aka my mother) over the weekend. She was driving to Brandon "looking for THE Pottery Barn." As if that was the only one and I imagine a large red edifice.

Take me down to Paradise City...

I dozed off during Laguna Beach last night, not because of boredom but because of being tired as crap. From what I saw, Jason still licks balls and Jessica still wants to lick his, and actually might have though she vehemenently denied it...and she's a little meaner (perhaps conniving) than we first thought.
The stage is set for next week though. Cabo...Alex H...Jessica..."The Shake Up from the Break-Up." That's what I'd call it if I worked for WWF and was in charge of the Pay-Per-View matches...But alas, sweet Laguna, you whet my pallet and leave me thirsting for more of your succulant drama...At least Kristin's still a slut.

sidenote: Jessica has huge knockers for such a petite frame.
double side note: I was dozing but I'm fairly certain that the Sweet 16 that followed had something to do with a fake rich girl and midget friends. How come I never had amigos like that?

'Cause I would never be that cruel to you...

I stopped by Club Nino last night. By Club Nino I mean two heterosexual males sitting in my Cuban friend's office at 11:30 pm on a Friday night as he finished working. While skimming through his iTunes and listening to such classics as Da Brat and Bobby Brown, I found myself somewhat perplexed that I constantly forget mundane crap I need to do every day but I know every word to a 1990 classic such as 'Don't Be Cruel' and I have no problem recalling my 5th grade talent show performance of the song complete with Hammer Pants and some sweet moves. That was probably my finest hour.

Drugs, Sex and Rock & Roll...

I happen to catch the series premiere of Reunion last night on FOX. I felt I was ready to take on a new show on Thursday nights and this would be it. Ladies and gentlemen, let's give FOX a hand for reaching a new height. They tackled DUI, cheating with a best-friend's girlfriend, impregnating said girl, vehicular manslaughter, corrupt lawyers and abortion in the first episode. Bravo FOX. No other station, network or cable, would have the gall to approach today's youth with such poignant issues in a pilot. Your show is a bit confusing but I'll see you again next Thursday at 9 pm.

BBQ sauce in the bedroom?

Does anyone else think that the new Sonny's BBQ add is somewhat subliminal?
The master of fastfood barbeque, beans & franks and the best sweet tea ever would like us to "Pork 3-Ways" and not even "think about desert 'til you're done."

Scrub, rinse, and repeat...

What moron thought he could improve hand soap? I've been noticing lately (because I keep an observant eye for these things) that the restroom industry has developed a new way for us to wash our hands. Pink froth...I don't like it, not one bit. I can't feel it working, it evaporates off my hands and I leave unsatisfied. Bring back the good stuff. The blue lotion that sticks to your skin like greasy oil and lathers in my palms like a volcano. And furthermore, don't put a goddamn sensor on my paper towl dispenser that tells me how much (or should I say, how little) paper I can use to dry my hands. I live in America, I'll waste whatever paper I want to. Maybe you should trun your focus on things that really count in the bathroom like a no-splash guard or a self-cleaning toilet seat or maybe dry erase walls so I don't have to read about how some girls punani is so big you can exterminate all the Jews in it (seriously, I've seen this before. She had a swastica ring drawn in her you-know-what).

I relinquish my youth

One weekend and it has come to this. Joey Fatone and I reunited for a one time benefit complete with 36 beers, two tickets to the game, Hot Fudge Pop Tarts, a Dental tailgate and a Thunderbird. The result - I've had my fill. It was a good run. But like all things, it has come to an end. I hereby vow to never go anywhere I cannot sit and enjoy an alcoholic beverage. I hereby vow never to go anywhere that I have to show ID before I even enter the premises. I hereby vow never to go anywhere that I have to touch and be touched by everyone in attendance on a hot, muggy Florida night. I am not 18, I don't need a fake ID. I am able to purchase an alcoholic beverage and enjoy it on my couch watching my tv in air conditioning around people I like . I hereby embrace domesticity.
Awards from the past weekend---
BEST WAY TO KILL THE 3RD QUARTER: Joey Fatone pretending that asshole girl in front of us was his girlfirend...inlcuding taking a picture leaning up against her, totally unbeknownst to her.
BEST USE OF THE BACK WINDOW OF AN '85 BLAZER: "You like 'em tough, I like 'em rough!"
BEST BILLBOARD ALONG I-75: DOT trying to urge slow drivers to the right hand lane and having little comic book bubbles out of passing cars that read "$%#@"
WORST DECISION: Roast Beef with Ranch and Feta from Pita Pit after 40 beers.
BEST THEFT OF THE TRIP: Stealing a cupcake from a tailgate party for a girl's birthday who I don't know for Arvind.

sidenotes - the freshman class is remarkably sluttier, yet somehow highly unattractive...the traffic still blows...ITP got a facelift and looks only psuedo-ghetto.

Finally, the time is now

I'll be making the trek to Mecca this afternoon. I should have some good tales upon my return. Here's to our gladiator's rising victoroiously from the battelfield!

I'll be stoping at every Publix and Kash-'N-Karry on the way, as well as a stop at the Flying J at state road 52 to get ass-raped by the unleaded fuel pump.

Watching reruns of the Cosby Show and Full House

Nat,

I feel like poop today. I will not be into work. I am going to prescribe to the Steve Sanders method of getting better - lock myself in my room and drink lemon-lime gatorade and sleep all day. I should feel fine tomorrow.

Sincerely,
Brandon