Friday, April 3, 2009

what i do when i put on pants

Sorry about the lack of quality Web logging this week. As I alluded to earlier, my helper tortoise, Vladimir, and I were in a heated dispute about his salary, with him insisting on being paid in legal tender and me pushing leafy greens. Unfortunately, despite the fact that as you're reading this I'm probably interviewing to work at DC's classiest porno establishment just so I could afford to keep him, Vladimir walked out on me yesterday. He's so melodramatic. I wanted to discuss Grey's Anatomy, which he was cool with until he learned I was speaking of the picture box program and not the anatomy text book. So he suggested we discuss Foucault's Pendulum, which I was likewise cool with until I learned he was referring to the book and not the physics experiment. He knows I have a limited literacy level! After a heated argument, he was gone...about three hours later when he finally made it to the door.

Understandably, I was devastated and unable to function. I mean, without him around yesterday, I couldn't even master putting on pants, let alone master enough English to type a whole blog post. (That sentence alone took me over 12 hours to compose!) And while Vladimir isn't dead to me yet (I'm crossing my fingers he'll think better of taking his business to the streets and return), I'm a bit sick of his constant bitching and moaning. Now I know how you must feel about me.

Which is why I'm changing up my lovably annoying schtick today in favor of sharing some happy moments with you. That's right -- I'm not going to complain about anything today because, really, despite being rendered nearly helpless without my helper animal (if Vladimir doesn't come back I'm thinking of hiring a helper horse), I've had a pretty sweet couple of last days, even though I was wearing pants for a few hours.

See, I went to see The Presets at the 9:30 Club on Wednesday night and NOTHING WENT WRONG. I showed up at the EXACT RIGHT TIME, which allowed me to miss the opening band that, according to my friends (yes, apparently I somehow have some non-imaginary ones) who showed up before I did, decidedly sucked ass. Hooray! Moreover, despite my late showing, I secured a sweet spot on the balcony that not only allowed me to dance freely above the smelly masses on the main floor, but to enjoy a clear view of the stage, where I got to witness the glory that I will now share with you using my perfected method of sub-par photography and video. Behold!

And yes, you're welcome for the octet of snapshots of what is basically the same photograph.

Oh, what the hell. Let's make it a nonet with the following grainy video, in which the sound is just about as awesome as when a helper tortoise (very slowly) walks out on you in the middle of the night. Luckily, unlike Vladimir's ill-advised decision to leave, this video doesn't completely blow; it does a little bit of justice to the laser light show that nearly bedazzled me right into a seizure.

Yeah. That sh*t was epically -- or more apropos, I suppose, epileptically -- tight.

But that's not even all! April Fool's Day was pretty much the best day ever even before The Presets took the stage. Not only did I confirm some awesome plans for the fall (more to come on that, perhaps, some day in the future), but I dined out at a new neighborhood Vietnamese restaurant, Pho 14, that recently opened up about a block away from my hobo lair. And if Vladimir wasn't being such a melodramatic ass, I'd have him go pick us up some pho for dinner. And it would've been my treat!

Not so much because I care a lot about Vladimir's well-being (after all, he is the most psychologically abusive helper tortoise I've ever come across), but because Pho 14 is can-of-beans cheap! Basically, my dining partner and I got two meals for the price of one, although that's mostly due to the faulty computation of an apparently dysfunctional cash register. I say "mostly," because when we informed our waiter of the missing charge (yeah, we're flippin' honest), he simply said, "Oh, it's fine. Want a free iced Vietnamese coffee?" Yep. That's what I like to call the best customer service ever. I am so easily wooed by free stuff. (HINT.)

By the way, the iced Vietnamese coffee was delicious and, truly, the perfect sugar'n'caffeine-filled pick-me-up this side of powdered sugar-dusted crack-cocaine.

And for that, Pho 14, located on that hot-messiest block of Park Road about a block north of the Columbia Heights metro stop, gets two talons up from the coveted Very Discerning Anti DC Eagle of Freedom. Congratulations!

He discern you long time.


Norman said...

There's a Pho 75 here in Philly (also, according to the tubes, DC, NYC, Arlington Heights?(!)).

I'm curious if there were Phos 1-13,15-74(,76+), or was the naming some intersexion of (un)lucky numbers?

Also, are there negatively numbered Phos? Perhaps imaginary numbers?

Marissa said...


Thanks for bringing that to my attention. I guess I always thought it had to do something with street numbers, but perhaps not. And actually, upon further inspection, I think really not. Hmm...I shall investigate!

:) said...

Lol you guys really crack me up!

The numbers sometimes stand for the year that they came over to America...or like pho 14...its because of 14th street...

cheers to good pho!

Marissa said...

Cheers to good pho indeed! Thanks for the info!