Shapes & Colors

Here's a playlist I created for one of my editing assignments. We had to make a music video to any song we wanted. The only footage we could use were still images of shapes and colors. I chose Daft Punk's "Human After All." Cheers.

Shapes & Colors
1. Magical Mystery Tour by The Beatles
2. Wordless Chorus by My Morning Jacket
3. Destination Overdrive by Chromeo
4. Human After All by Daft Punk
5. Sleeping Lessons by The Shins
6. Everyone Knows Everyone by The Helio Sequence
7. Ready For The Floor by Hot Chip
8. Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve
9. Bodysnatchers by Radiohead
10. Good Morning by Kanye West
11. Don't Worry Baby by The Beach Boys
12. Kids by MGMT
13. I'm Just A Singer In A Rock and Roll Band by The Moody Blues
14. We Will Become Silhouettes by The Postal Service
15. Loud Pipes by Ratatat
16. The Final Countdown by Europe
17. Time of the Season by The Zombies
18. Touch Me I'm Going To Scream Pt. 2 by My Morning Jacket





I just thought this photo was hilarious and had to be shared with the world.

Mistakes and Mixtapes

I never really know what to do on a Sunday. Unlike most of my friends, I'm not really into the whole Sunday football thing. Sure, I appreciate it, but it's hard to get into football, especially when you're from a city that doesn't even have a team. So how did I spend my Sunday? Naturally, I went to the movies and saw Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist.

I'm pretty sure that Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist was written and made for me. It just hit all the high marks that a movie of my taste should have and then some: relatable characters, coming-of-age comedy, unrequited romance, drinking at clubs and bars, and an awesome soundtrack.

Based on the novel of the same name, Nick and Norah chronicles the fateful encounter of Nick (Michael Cera) and Norah (Kat Dennings) and their wild, magical night in New York looking for the secret show of their favorite band Where's Fluffy. The movie played out like a modern day John Hughes film as it followed the triumphs and tragedies of our musical obsessionists. I actually read the book about a year ago too and was happy to see that the film kept the integral subject of the book while making changes I felt made the story better. For one, it changed the musical tastes from queercore punk to indie music in order to give the movie a sweeter and more lighthearted feel. Second, it removed the angsty tone of the book for a more jaded outlook. Finally, it changed the intimate scenes from one of spontaneous act to a more tender and heartwarming moment.

It is true: music makes the world go 'round. I believe that music has the power to inspire, create, and connect. This movie, while yes I know is a movie, demonstrates that music can bring people together.

Haven't you ever had that moment? You know the one I'm talking about. You're passionate about a band, a band that is so dear and special to you for a plethora of reasons. Then, you meet someone. Naturally, the conversation turns to music, and you begin judging each other based on your likes and dislikes. You decide to take a chance and ask that million dollar make-or-break question: "So, what do you think of _______?" A million replies run through your mind: "They suck. Fuck 'em. They're ok, I guess." One answer could possibly determine the rest of your night. And like that, it happens. That person says, "They are my favorite band of all-time!" Suddenly, you have that connection, and the world continues to go 'round and 'round. Soon enough, you're making mistakes. Soon enough, your'e making mixtapes.

The indie music of this film perfectly complements our awkward protagonists. Cera and Dennings have undeniable chemistry that ignites the screen. They relate to each other on the level of equals as they both are still hurting from severely unhealthy relationships and do not want to make themselves vulnerable to heartbreak all over again. Hence, bands like Band of Horses, Devendra Banhart, Vampire Weekend, and Bishop Allen set the playful tone for the quirky night full of randomosity, eternal optimism, and potential heartmend and heartbreak. This movie speaks to the music of our generation and its avid listeners as they live with generational musical iconography like YouTube, MySpace, blogs, mixtapes, and iPods. It also doesn't forget to pay tribute to the forefathers of awesome rock music as it namedrops everyone from The Cure to David Bowie and gives special attention via a lovely monologue about The Beatles' "I Wanna Hold Your Hand."

I have to make a quick sidenote about the supporting cast of the film. Incredible! Aaron Yoo and Rafi Gravron as Thom and Dev, the two gay members of Nick's band The Jerk-Offs were great catalysts and the logical thinkers of the film as they force Nick and Norah to explore this potential love. Even better, they don't cater to stereotypical gay characters in a film. It didn't define them, it was just one part of who they were. Alexis Dziena and Jay Baruchel as Nick and Norah's exes, respectively, acted admirably as the assholes of the film. We kinda loathed them, we were kinda attracted to them, and everyone's met someone like them. And of course, the Best Supporting Actress goes to Ari Graynor as Caroline, Norah's drunken best friend who provides the film's best comedic moments with her uninhibited shameless drunk antics during the wee hours of Manhattan. There's one scene where, well, let's just say I'm never going to chew gum the same way again.

The film didn't shove their romance in your face. Of course, you knew they were going to end up together as it was a familiar concept we've seen countless times in the romantic comedies of the 80s and 90s. But it was subtle. It was sweet. It unfolded and unraveled in front of your eyes so naturally and magically that by the end of the film, you too had fallen in love with the characters and didn't even realize it, until it was over. Once those credits started rolling, I wished it would just go on repeat and keep playing over and over, like an infinite playlist.

The Last Summer Day

And so summer officially ends, and autumn inevitably begins. No more blistering hot days, no more sweltering summer nights. No more just work and no-homework. With my 22nd birthday officially two days behind me, what better way to celebrate the end of carefree bliss and the beginning of reality than going to see My Morning Jacket at The Greek.

God, where to begin? It was amazing! spiritual! existential! out-of-body! FUCKING SWEET! After taking some detours along the way, The Cobra and I finally arrived at The Greek at 8:07 p.m. We heard "Off The Record" in the distance and were surprised. The ticket said doors opened at 7:30 p.m. This was not the case. The show started at 7:30 p.m., and there was no opening band.

Fuck, we already missed half the set!

An empathetic security guard heard our groans and assured us that we had not missed much, especially because they were playing a three-hour set! Oh, what bliss. The Cobra and I saw MMJ about two years ago at The Wiltern. This was at the time when she invited me to their concert and I went not ever having heard a single song. I left feeling blasted away by pure perfect music. That first MMJ concert, in the packed small venue on Wilshire and Western, was and is the best concert I have ever been to. The best performance I have ever seen, though, was MMJ at The Greek.

After getting some overpriced Newcastle, we made our way to our seats in South Terrace. They weren't bad as you could still see the band clearly from a high top right angle. We sat down just as they started busting out "I'm Amazed," the first single from Evil Urges. According to the gentleman next to us, we had only missed "Evil Urges," "Touch Me I'm Going to Scream Pt. 1," "Off The Record," and "Anytime."

I feel like MMJ is a time capsule band. It's like they go through the history of rock in one set. They can be soft rock pansies, classic rock shred heads, psychedelic tripsters, alt-country stars, and something that can't even begin to have a label. And every song is always epic in its own way. They are at their best when the song starts out slow and and then builds up until they careen out of control and just pick at the guitar until their fingers bleed.

Jim James was a rock star god on stage. Not only can the dude play, he also performs. During his ambient, trippy songs such as "Gideon" and "Phone Went West," James would adorn his head with a towel, and he would just step into his zone, jamming and grooving. He was in his own world. On bring-down-the-house epic rock songs like "Anytime," "Mahgeetah," "What A Wonderful Man," and "Lay Low," Jim James and company were all over the stage. James and the second guitarist Carl Broemmel would dance around each other in intricate weavings and patterns. James would go to the crowd and just shake his legs and hips as if possessed by some dancing demon or channeling Elvis on coke. And nearly every rock-out-with-your-cock-out song had James and the band performing like they were all on acid. But they weren't. They were just having the purest fun you could ever have.

When they played their love songs like "Thank You Too!," "Sec Walkin," and "Two Halves," The Greek turned into quite the magical place. Around "Thank You Too!," their eighth song, I finally managed to take my eyes off the stage and look around me. The Greek is a fucking beautiful venue. It starts at the main stage and expands in all peripheral directions. The seats get higher and higher, but relative to the theatre, the nosebleed section isn't that far away. The entire theatre is surrounded by large, magnificent trees, silent mountains and the city's twinkling lights. We are completely encompassed by nature. It was the perfect setting for a band like this.

The best part of the show had to be the last nine songs, starting off with my favorite song of all-time "Dondante." I remember the first time I heard this song. The Cobra and I were pretty drunk at The Wiltern and the slow drum beat kicked in, grabbing our attention. It kept going and going and then we heard this almost trembling guitar wave come in. And oh, how Jim James sings in that haunting shriek of a voice. It just feels like he's crooning and howling in pain.

"In a dream I saw you walkin'
Like a kid, alive and talkin.'
That was you.

In the classroom you were teachin'
On the streets you were policing.
That was you.

To the one I now know most,
I will tell them of your ghost like a thing
That never, ever was."

On this second performance, he keeps it the same: he sings those first verses and then a little dancing guitar solo comes in, but it's fucking sexy. I'm just feeling this song, my body rocking back and forth, my head nodding to and fro. The guitar line picks up, playing faster, faster, faster, more intense, intense, intense, and then BOOM! a sound wave rips through the stadium, blasting me back in my seat, and I am cleansed and free. The first time I saw this song live, I was stunned. The second time I saw it, I was moved. Not only did they play the Okonokos live version, they expanded on it, adding a new jam element and more fury and anger. James was just slamming his guitar as hard as he could with his hand and pick as if punishing it for all the sins it had committed. It's time for the song to fade out, and Carl Broemmel brings out his saxophone. The sax sings the final sad notes to Los Angeles and finishes the song.

The Cobra and I knew at this point that we were a part of something bigger than ourselves. MMJ slowed it down after "Dondante" with the haunting love ballad "Librarian." People were falling in love all around us with the Greek, with the band, with James, with each other. We knew it was time to lighten up, and we did. Fate then intervened, and the eerie wahs of "Smokin' From Shootin'" rang through the crowds. Puffs of smoke from all places Greek floated above the crowd. I found that rather ironic.

"Do you feel my smokin guns? / They're smoking from a shootin, smokin from shootin / smokin from shootin / at everyone? / Do you live your life / on the road? / Yeah, losing that I'm loving / Askin for nothing / Running from something that isn't there."

With one comes the other, and "Touch Me I'm Going To Scream, Pt. 2" followed immediately. The band changed all their instruments and opted for synthesizers and other electronic doo dads that contribute to this song's awesomeness. What impressed me most was the light show that they had for this song, as if this is what the song is supposed to look like. The backdrop of the set were these large looming eyeballs in sideways wedding ring cases. The band had at least fifty lights shining on them, four circular lights behind the drums, and blasting strobe lights underneath the drum set. You just had to be there to see it. In a fading motion from left to right, the lights would light up consecutively to the beat of the opening synths. The song plays, and it's fucking beautiful, man. It goes on for what may be minutes but felt too short. Then the song reaches climax. James puts the synthesizer down, shakes his head, and sticks out his hand, The guitar is placed in it, and he tears through the strings by playing a power chord that rips through the stadium, popping everyone's ear drums. The crowd goes wild! Everyone tries to match James by singing at the top of their lungs. He lets out this high pitched wail that shatters souls like glass. They extended the song and gave it legendary status. The song wained and descended ever so slowly to a complete stop. The speakers sounded off with the final four second track "Good Intentions." A crowd cheers over the speakers, and Jim James' voice says, "Ok. Cool." The end. The show was over.

Until the encore ten minutes later.

I feel like a band always plays their best songs in the encore. It's the ones that they know the crowd will love, they personally love, or both. These are the songs that the band wants you to remember them by, because they are there for a reason. They engaged the happy crowd in a sweet sing-along with "Golden." They made us feel like we were on ecstasy or LSD through "Wordless Chorus" and its strobe-riphic light show. They made us dance with Satan on "Highly Suspicious." They made you cry with "Run Thru" and that piercing guitar. And they sent us to imaginary places with "One Big Holiday."

And that was it. The concert was over. Just like that. I've been looking forward to this show since I bought the tickets in May, and it was over in 3 hours. With the said and done, summer officially shed its last ray of light.

On the bright side, we had gotten out around 11:30 p.m. on a Sunday. I was still on a high from the show, and so was The Cobra. We were chattering about the show all the way down hill.

"You know, The Cobra, the night is quite young. What should we do?"

She seemed to have read my mind. "Hmm, we are in Los Feliz, and there is The Dresden."
"I think that sounds like a brilliant idea."


It was our first bar experience.

Inside, we both just looked around, taking it all in, and just reflecting on the experience. It was dark and quiet--the perfect setting for the songs to keep playing in our heads.


It still feels like the concert was just yesterday. It feels like it didn't even happen. But it did. It fucking did. That night was not real. It was as if we had gone to another place. When interviewed by Rolling Stone after their career-defining four hour set at Bonnaroo Festival this past summer, James recalls the moment he got his first guitar. "I was completely captivated by it, like it could take me to another dimension." My Morning Jacket has proven that music has the power to open up your mind, introduce new perceptions, and show you things you've never even dreamed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post Script:

Oh, we also watched this so bad-it's-kinda-good-but-it-was-4-bucks-so-who-cares-movie called Far Out Man starring Tommy Chong as a stoner burnout living in the 90s. I'm not going to talk about it just to save space, but here's a photo. Cheers.

The Hollywood Dream

The boys are back in town: Vince, E, Drama, Turtle, and Ari, and they've come back in full swing.

Entourage has always been received with mixed reviews, at least in my circle of friends. The acting is not great, everything works out a little too easily for the crew, and are there really no ugly women in L.A.?

My answer to that: who the fuck cares? Entourage is not supposed to be an Emmy-winning drama or something to philosophize about. This HBO phenomenon is about living the good life in Hollywood. It's fun, and you live vicariously through it (or hopefully, like me, one day). Sure, for story's sake, we need Vinnie Chase and The Chasers to fall on hard times just to stay interested and see them succeed. "Everyone likes a comeback, Vince. Since Britney fucked hers up, you're next," Ari boasts in season 5's second episode. While the plot is moving along quicker than the forever-feeling season 4 to speed up Vince's comeback, the first two episodes are setting up what looks to be a promising 13 episodes.

We find E and Drama trying to keep the cash coming in with new clients and new episodes, respectively. Drama is doing the whole long-distance thing with that really hot French chick that he boned on the beach in the season 4 finale. However, the promise of a mainstream Hollywood film reunites the crew to get back to work. Ari and E fly to Mexico to track down a very bearded Vince and the cuddly Turtle fucking some really hot girls.

Oscar winning material, I know.

The second episode assesses the situation in which the entourage finds themselves: Vince is pretty much a Hollywood leper. No one wants to touch him since the disaster of a film Medellin. But with a new work ethic, desperate to prove everyone wrong, Vince and E read scripts like no other until they find one written by the eccentric pair of writers played by Lukas Haas (Brick) and Giovanni Ribisi (Boiler Room). E wants to sign them, but Ari won't let Vince play lead because it's an indie flick. No more indie flicks according to the wunderkind agent. "It's like the Holocaust. NEVER AGAIN!" Vince hooks up with Justine Chambers from Season One, Turtle busts out a brilliant line ("Well, you've already lied to your boyfriend so why don't you tell him that we didn't fuck tonight."), and Drama gets drunk after blowing up at his really hot French girlfriend and getting subsequently dumped. Oh, and there's been quite an abundance of celebrity appearances with the likes of Carla Gugino and Mark Wahlberg. I hear Michael Phelps and the Cuban goddess Jamie Lynn-Sigler will make cameos in a future episode.

I still love this show. It's always great to see what part of L.A. the boys are in such as visiting Urth Cafe or walking down Rodeo Drive. The show isn't just about a group of guys partying, it's about the city that is built on the facade of stardom, where dreams live and dreams die. The show is still hilarious, too, mostly due to Ari and Drama. Watch for great Ari tantrums where he just randomly throws files or breaks people's phones for no reason--pure agent gold. I've also recently come to the conclusion that Entourage needs to come out with a soundtrack: the episode song enders are always brilliant, whether it be classic rock ("Gimme Shelter" by The Rolling Stones; "Peace Frog" by The Doors), hip-hop ("The Good Life" by Kanye West), or alternative awesomeness ("Dream" by Alice Smith; "If I Ever Feel Better" by Phoenix--the last ep's episode closer). As the first two episodes have proven, season 5 looks to be promising.

It's good to have you guys back.

The Cobra and The Velvet Margarita

The Cobra has been reborn.

The Cobra is a new found woman.

Finally, The Cobra is 21 years old!

I feel like I've been waiting for The Cobra's 21st birthday longer than she has. I can't tell you how many times I'd be like, "The Cobra, we need to go to this bar. Oh wait, you're not 21 . . . " or something of the sort. Do you know how long we have waited to finally explore the L.A. bar scene? 21 years, you fool. The past year has pretty much been me going to bars and telling her about it. Now, she finally gets to experience what I've talked about. And in typical Cobra fashion, she had to choose the right place to host the festivities. She chose wisely as we got wasted away at The Velvet Margarita (1612 Cahuenga Blvd in Hollywood).

This bar is one of those places that I've always passed and have been wanting to visit. The front entrance alone stirs curiosity with its black awning and bright pink, cursive letters. It just screams "delightfully tacky" (Hooters). The Cobra and her crew were already drinking before Gladly and I arrived around 11 p.m.

I had read on some website that this should be one of Quentin Tarantino's favorite bars because of its unique mix of American pop culture and Mexican aesthetics. It reminded me of a much more Gothic version of the strip club from From Dusk Till Dawn. You step in and are bathed in purple lights. The ceilings are high and adorned with black-and-silver sombreros. To the immediate left was our crew at a reserved table. To the immediate right was a little nook full of Hollywood hipsters. The nook was pretty sweet because it was set-up like one of those old Mexican caves with candles in the crevices. The candles lit up velvet paintings of Dia de los Muertos skeletons and Mexican icons.

Next to this nook is the impressively well-stocked bar. I didn't have to wait at all to get a drink. The bartenders were courteous and made damn good drinks. Now usually, as I'm sure you all know by now, I would normally order a dirty martini, but I figured, "Fuck it, I'm at a margarita bar," so I ordered the El Guapo Classic Margarita with a salted rim. And damn it was good! For me, salt is key to a margarita. The bitterness of the salt perfectly complements the sweetness of the margarita. It got me pretty buzzed too. Suddenly, this 4 at the bar became a 7--it was that good.

The bar is separate from the restaurant although they are in the same room. They're divided by a velvet plush wall. With the high ceilings, velvet divider, moody lighting, and all the skeletons around, I felt like I was riding The Haunted Mansion from Disneyland Mexico. Another bar, the patio bar, is located outside. After you walk down the hallway of velvet paintings of American pop culture figures like Frank Sinatra, Bruce Lee, and David Bowie, you can step out to the patio bar to have a smoke. It was a Wednesday night so obviously the place was dead. When this bar is open on weekends until 4 a.m., though, I have a hunch it's going to be raging, and I'll be contributing.

By the time Gladly and I finished touring the place, the rest of the party had come, and it was finally time to initiate The Cobra into society. We started her off with three Patron shots and a bottle of champagne. She downed them like a champ. The very nice and cute waitress then brought out red tortilla chips with three dips (chipotle, tomatillo, and bean; for free I might add), some apple pie bites, and a delicious chicken quesadilla. Eating said food sobered me up, so I got a Newcastle and 2 more Patron shots.

The Cobra and I downed them. That former 4 that became a 7 transformed into a 9.

Lots of catching up with old friends, 2 more Patron shots for The Cobra and me, and fun was had by all. Nothing noteworthy occurred that night because The Cobra's 21st was enough. Seriously, it was a long time coming. It's really starting to hit me that we're all growing up. I'm turning 21 + 1 next week (no one likes to be 22, let's be real), Boy Band turns 21 in a month, and that fucking word pops up in every conversation: senior. Well, thank God it's only September. There's a lot of maturing to be done, and I expect to do some of it at The Velvet Margarita.

To 21 more years of being those typical 21 year old drunks, even when we're 42.

Happy Birthday, The Cobra.

P.S. Download "Love Lockdown" by Kanye West. I'm a little obsessed.

Tropic Awesomeness

I laughed from beginning to end. The whole way through. It's been a long time since I've seen a movie stayed consistently funny. It's been an even longer time since I've seen a movie that stayed consistently funny and was also fucking brilliant. Tropic Thunder was fucking awesome.

What's great about this film is that it can be read on three different levels. I feel my claim is valid since I've now seen the film three times.

Level One: The Obvious
It's good to see Ben Stiller back in wacky hilarity. He always seems to play the same guy in all his films: neurotic macho man pussy (does that even make sense?) This film was no different. Yet, he was hilarious because of the circumstances in which he engaged. Jack Black was always a treat as he played a heroin addict jonesing bad for the dragon. Everyone in the cast (Jay Baruchel, Brandon T. Jackson, Nick Nolte, Steven Coogan, Tom Cruise, Matt McConaughey) all contributed funny parts to the film. With that all-star cast, it was like the Dark Knight of comedies. But the award for Best Actor goes hands down to Robert Downey, Jr. He plays an Australian Method actor playing a Black military sergeant. As he says, "I don't break character until the DVD commentary." While he could have crossed a major racial line, Downey, Jr. played it cool and simply offered hilarious insight on the egotistical actor.

Level Two: The Satire
Continuing from The Obvious, Downey, Jr. offers hilarious insight on the egotistical actor by making fun of him. The ridiculousness of a Method actor turning blackface for a role satirizes the stupid lengths some actors will go to learn more about a role. Ben Stiller ridicules the pompous action stars while Tom Cruise gives a little speech about the inevitability of stars going down (was he talking about himself?) Brandon T. Jackson's character Alpa Chino makes fun of musicians with different streams of revenue like energy drinks (cough cough 50 Cent cough cough). You think that they "love tha pussy" but it could all be a marketing gimmick to sell their crap while they "cradle the balls, work the shaft, the whole nine yards)." So many things they say are true. Excuse my political incorrectness but Downey, Jr. had it right: you never go full retard. The satire aspect brings about so many quotable quotes, too. Where to even begin? "I don't read scripts; scripts read me." "I'm a lead farmer, motherfucker!" "I killed one--the thing I love most. Oh my god, you killed a hooker. Ok, calm down, here's what you do. Get some bleach and a shitload of lyme."

But my favorite part of the film:

Level Three: The Self-Reflexive
Did anyone else feel like they were watching a movie? Think about it. The movie we are watching is the movie made at the end of the film. You're watching a film within a film within a film. The sheer fact of the camera pointing towards the audience turns the mirror towards us. It's like we're watching ourselves almost. You see a camera, you see a director, anything that has to do with a movie and suddenly the audience realizes that they are watching a movie. Doing so allows the audience to accept certain things that normally they wouldn't (like McConaughey's random appearance at the end). Because we know it's just a movie, we can suspend our disbelief that much more and appreciate it on a whole new level. On top of that, you had actors playing other actors in the film. Could Ben Stiller be based on Tom Cruise? Is Downey, Jr. making fun of classics like Marlon Brando? Alpa Chino is 50 Cent? Tom Cruise is every Jewish Hollywood producer? Although it was all completely absurd, it was the most realistic film in ages.

Watch the movie. You'll definitely Get Some.

Double Header

Is it me or are there bars around every corner of Downtown L.A.? That's what I started figuring out last Thursday when I went out with my dear friend Liz Whiz. There were places that we walked by that I had heard of like Casey's Irish Pub and, of course, infamous rooftop bar The Standard (I can't believe I haven't been here yet!). We decided to go to quieter bars where we could actually talk and catch up as she was in Scotland for the past year.Since we're both writers, like to read, and love to drink, we checked out The Library Bar (6th and Hope). For a Thursday night, this place was packed like a can of sardines. It was literally a struggle to move. Liz Whiz and I got our first drinks (gin & tonic and dirty martini, respectively) and made our way to a distant corner. After having barhopped in Burbank for the past couple weeks, it was good to see the Downtown crowd full of hipsters, hippies, young and old, classy and trashy. Some people I won't lie looked totally out of place. This one dude was wearing knee high socks, running shoes, cargo shorts, and a white beater. Oh yeah, he also had a mullet (you know, business in the front, party in the back).

The website says, "The Perfect Escape From The Hollywood Bar Scene." This slogan holds true as it is the Downtown crowd and not as pretentious, but I feel like Library Bar would have been way sweeter had it not been so full. It's one room with a bar in front and a lounge area around books in shelves in the back. That's pretty much it. While a cool concept, the enormous crowd ruined it for me. Check it out on a much more dead night like Sunday.

Having bounced, we decided to get our whiskey on and checked out Seven Grand (7th & Grand). The joint is known for its dizzying array of whiskeys from all over the world, served only four different ways (straight; waterback; on the rocks; sour). Liz Whiz needed to explore the fine list of ales as she wanted to see if they had her favorite whiskey from Scotland (they didn't). However, she chose a very exquisite Glen Guyon (sp?) that felt like fire going down my throat. The place was much bigger than Library Bar as it has two pool tables, a cigar shop in the back, and an outdoor patio that is every smoker's wet dream. I went to this place for the first time back in January. It was a Sunday night, which much to my delight, was also Blues night. It gained a much higher level of respect in my head.

We made our way outside and discussed varying topics from the kick-ass Obama to our most drunk stories of the semester (running through the backyards of Scotland makes for a good story, Liz Whiz!).

And then something happened that I had always heard of but confirmed that night. Like a desperate fucker, I asked a random stranger for a cigarette. This guy looked like one of those guys that was trying to relive his youth but through an older gentleman's appearance. He was ripped as hell, too. His name was Mateo, and he kindly scolded me for not having brought my own cigarettes. When I explained to him that I only smoke when drunk and henceforth drink quite a bit, he laughed and figured I was trustworthy. With that, he asked me what I did. I said Film Student. This is where the magic happens. His eyes widened a bit and said, "Oh! You should meet my friend." I was quickly introduced to two of his friends. One was an entertainment lawyer and the other worked for the E! Channel. We engaged in industry talk while Liz Whiz acted as my wingman as she entertained Mateo. I felt like I was hitting on girls but really was just networking. Maybe the two are one in the same. We all exchanged numbers and Liz Whiz and I decided to call it a night. We drove home blasting Classic Vinyl and talked about the epicness of Row Parties (Pre-Rush will be discussed in a future post) and how awesome Seven Grand is. It comes highly recommended.)

I told Gladly what had happened with the two film guys, and he dropped some knowledge on me: "Dude, bars are the best places to make connections. You already have one. It's called alcohol."