I'm supposed to be writing a wine primer on about grenache for Chicagoist, but I just found out that iTunes now carries the KNAC.com radio stream, so I've been jonesing the past twenty minutes listening to the soundtrack of high school, boot camp, and college. Speaking of, check out Brian Posehn's "Metal By Numbers" on You Tube. It's worth the five minutes of wasted time.

It's been a week now, so folks in the neighborhood reading this please give a warm Bridgeport welcome to fellow Chicagoist-a Smussyolay. She's already been warned about Punchinello's and recommended Gio's and Polo Cafe. If you see her walking around looking lost, make her feel at home.

Back to Our Regular Scheduled Programming

So here's part 2 of "Perversion for Profit". I find it facinating that in forty years the mindset of the narrator is now the (im)moral base that's running the country, and that few things have changed since then, outside of our tepid acceptance of homosexuality. You know, how the GOP only wants to bring up its tolerance of them when Mary Cheney's involved? I also imagine the narrator found a secluded corner on the set and rigidly masturbated to the "physique" magazines, during breaks in filming. Can't you see him standing with his slacks to his ankles, perfect posture, abusing himself with little jerking motions as he hisses about "bestiality" and "perversity?" Well, you do now.

I Know I Promised Something, But...

We'll get back to boring you later.

Sue and I went to see Tom Waits last night, and it was as amazing as I expected. Here's the set list:

Make it Rain
Hoist That Rag
Shore Leave
God's Away on Business
All the World is Green
Falling Down
Tango Till They're Sore
Tom Traubert's Blues
Eyeball Kid
Down in the Hole
Don't Go Into that Barn
Shake It
Trampled Rose
What's He Building in There?
'Till the Money Runs Out
Murder in the Red Barn
Lie to Me
Get Behind the Mule

Encore 1:
The Day After Tomorrow
Singapore

Encore 2:
Whistling Past the Graveyard
Time Time Time

When we made it to our seats in the gallery, there was a woman behind us who was in the throes of a panic attack. Ten minutes later, she was text messaging on her Sidekick. We discussed whether the panic attack was real or fake the rest of the night. It also looked as though shooting for the cheap seats in the gallery was also a blessing, as the lower sections of the Auditorium Theatre was a heat sink, with people dropping like flies. We were blessed with being seated under a vent, which had an odd raspberry scent coming out of it. This gave us the suggestion to head to HotHouse for a nightcap of Young's Double Chocolate Stout pints with an added shot of framboise, which was like candy, but also put us to sleep.

Before that, we ate dinner at Tamarind. I still find it hard to believe that this place is run by the same folks who ran Charming Wok, which was often lacking in charm. That place had to have had one of the filthiest fish tanks I've ever seen in a restaurant. But they've acquitted themselves well with Tamarind. Do yourself a favor and check it out.

Video Find of the Day

Here's the descriptiopn from Google for "Perversion For Profit": "Anti-pornography film produced by financier Charles Keating, linking pornography to the Communist conspiracy and the decline of Western civilization." The best thing? There's a second part. That'll be up tomorrow.

The Vanguard

Here is an article I wrote about rosé wines for Chicagoist around Memorial Day, and here is an article about rosé found in the Sunday styles section of the New York Times. Which means that the NYT is about three months behind me in spotting a trend.

I guess I should take a wait-and-see approach to how the hipsters embrace rosé before I start disparaging it again.