April 17th, 2010

Flavored Calories.

Late-night food ACHIEVED.

Drove downtown, found and used a surprising parking space, and walked around, including a couple of blocks along the Willamette, on my way to having a cheese sauce-, grilled pepper- and French fry-covered turkey sandwich from, yes, Big-Ass Sandwiches. Brian Wood and one of their "other guys" (the cart has two more employees now) were there; Lisa Wood was home, likely sleeping. I hung out, shooting the breeze with Brian and a couple of pedicab drivers. Portland has a burgeoning pedicab system, especially for late-night rides for drunk people. "Portland's better for pedicabs than Seattle," I said. One of the drivers mentioned that sometimes customers actually willingly pedal him around!

I may have had the first Big-Ass Sandwich of the cart's late-night Friday schedule. Others came along to partake as well. I'm glad I treated myself. (I also treated myself to a guava Jarritos. My sweet tooth wanted some love, too.)

Home now. Sleep eventually.
Alt!Scotty

Being for the benefit of Mr. Bobby "Fatboy" Roberts!

More article-y enjoyment by one of Portland's many, many smartasses, Bobby "Fatboy" Roberts. His two latest pieces are up on Cracked Dot Com. First is "The 10 Greatest Fictional Sports Ever Invented," including this said about Quidditch:
Soccer + hockey + basketball + flying + drunk Phantasm ball + witchcraft = Fucking Awesome. I scored a 27 on the math section of my SATs and even I can understand that equation.
And you'll love what his #1 is.

Bobby also reviews the film version of Kick-Ass:
It's like [Nicolas Cage]'s channeling an unholy trinity of William Shatner, Adam West and Christopher Walken. He plays Big Daddy, a disgraced cop, framed by the city's crime boss. After being released from a five year bid in prison, he trains his 10-year-old daughter to be the sidekick Hit-Girl. Considering the Marvel pedigree of this film, I'll explain it like this: Imagine a "What If" issue where The Punisher was Alan Thicke, and Deadpool was Shirley Temple with Tourette's.

Due to a case of mistaken secret identities, Kick-Ass is forced to work with Big Daddy and Hit-Girl, and from there the film starts slowly cranking up the crazy, until it resembles a Looney Tune written by Frank Miller and directed by Steven Spielberg. It's socially irresponsible, morally irredeemable and pretty goddamned glorious to behold.
So get out your fucking checkbook click over to those links and read! You're welcome.