"No thanks, I've brought my own"

If there's one thing Angelinos can agree on (and I'm sure there's really only one thing) it's that drinks in this town are too damn expensive. I dare anyone to find a decent cocktail in this town for under $5 at 11:30pm on a Friday night. It's just not gonna happen. So what do us poorer folk have to do to get our drinky-drink on? We have three choices. We either don't go to bars and just throw parties where we can all collectively get shitfaced together (as evidenced by the entire nature of this blog) which is a fine idea but sometimes you just want to go out and get drunk, ya know? So that leaves us really only two options -- the first, front load like an animal before you go into a club or concert venue and hope that you drink enough to keep the buzz all night but not too much so you don't end up nursing a toilet bowl in public. Or, my personal favorite, pack a bag with your own stash, sneak it in to wherever you're going and hope no one sees you sipping out of a flask . Personally, I'd like to think I'm an expert at this last one and I'm more than willing to offer any tips. Maybe that's another post...


But why is this important? Because last weekend I ventured into untreaded waters with my little stash o'booze and it was the most glorious adventure of my life. We went to Korea Town for some karaoke action, which sounds lame, I know, but not when you get a private room with no supervision! We walked in sipping on Sparks and carting a bag o'whiskey. The moment the little man left us to privacy of our little room the whiskey started flowing, the cocktails got mixed, and the cigarettes came out. Two hours later I was drunk, exhausted, and damn happy. Not to mention hoarse - my voice sounded like the whiskey-drinking, cigarette-smoking, "Welcome to the Jungle"-screaming woman I've always wanted to be. Grand total cost? Something in the neighborhood of $17 for an entire night's fun and that's only because the fucking karaoke room was $12. But worth every damn penny, as far as I'm concerned, and how often can you say that about a night out in L.A.?

The Aftermath

So I don't remember much of anything last night. There was a wig, and there was dancing. But, as usual, I have photos. Will post some highlights soon.

Sunset Junction Line-Up Announced

Not a bad line-up for $10. Thoughts?

Even better is it's within stumbling distance from my apartment, and within crawling distance from the Dwell apartment. I sense some pre-party, party, post-party action.

Party On Friday

So for those that don't know, I'll be celebrating my birthday party this Friday at my apartment in Los Feliz. This'll be our third party since moving in in May. The last one at the beginning of the month in honor of my girlfriend's birthday was pretty tame.

That is to say, nothing got broken.

As for our first party, the Los Feliz Housewarmarama, well... that could have ended better, as the photo to the right clearly demonstrates. It should be noted that the person in the green shirt at fault, AKA "Tremblay", arrived at the party around midnightish with a handle of Jack shouting, "Alright! Let's get drunk!"

No hard feelings, though. He brought the Jack.

So anyways, let's hope that Friday's party turns out well. Last time I had a birthday party, I wore a plastic hula skirt the entire night and scared the neighbors, the names of whom I can't at all remember. That, in my mind, is a party turning out well.