“Steak and potatoes” is a phrase people often use to describe themselves. As in, “Hey, I’m a steak-and-potatoes type of guy.” But just because you happen to be “that type of guy” doesn’t mean you have to be boring. Let me back up a minute. I like to surf craigslist.com…
Well, it’s around 11 on a Wednesday night and I’ve just pounded a huge cup of coffee. Let me explain. I recently quit drinking, and it seems I’ve replaced one addiction with a few others, namely coffee and sweets. I guess I should further explain that it wasn’t just a…
I grew up in a household that was extremely self-sufficient. As soon as you were old enough (tall enough) to open the fridge, or reach the controls for the washer, you were on your own. Ever since I could touch those washer knobs, I’ve been doing my own laundry —…
Dating someone with kids is tricky — are you a parental figure or a friend? And there are plenty of awkward talks with the ex, if he or she is still around. Such conversations usually are accompanied by yelling, threats, and, eventually, quiet weeping. I have found that there is…
What I’m trying to do is guide you through a series of date possibilities — all related to food. This week, we’ll venture out of the kitchen. I always take a first date out for buffalo wings. Yes, chicken wings! You can tell a lot about a person by how…
One night, around 10 years back, I slaved to create this fantastic Moroccan lamb dish. I was drinking wine in the afternoon when my date showed up. For once, I had a date with someone over 25 — in fact, she was over 40! With no kids, she had plenty…
A few years ago, I was involved with a little Italian girl who moved all her belongings into my house. Yes, we had just taken that fabled step into co-existence/co-dependence. But I ended up essentially storing all her gypsy shit for three months while she ran to Mommy’s because she…
Spooning? What the hell is this guy up to? Is this new column going to be a cooking column or a sex column? Well, dear reader, it will be both. After all, what is cooking if it isn’t a way to someone’s heart? A way into someone’s pants, I say…
So I’ve been writing this inebriated nonsense for more than a year now. Not a bad showing of “commitment,” considering the amount of booze I’ve thrown down my throat. Then again, being a drunk is all about commitment, discipline, and the ability to see the truth. I look at people…
This may sound pathetic to some, but I am proud to report that I made it five days, 14 hours without a drink. Zero, zilch, nada! And I have to admit: Beyond the intense sweating, short-fused temper tantrums, and sleepless nights, I felt great. So what does a confirmed Booze…
If you walk up to the door of a bar and it has a sign that reads, “Restrooms for customers only,” chances are you’re about to enter a dive bar. At least, that is the case with the Caravan, on 15th Avenue and Camelback Road. It’s a sweltering Thursday afternoon,…
Being a booze pig, I pride myself on knowing the location of every dive bar in town. It gets a little more difficult when you are in the sixth-largest city in the country. Because our desert-gobbling sprawl is so huge, I often ask friends and strangers alike, “Do you know…
It’s a sweaty Wednesday and I’m running some errands after work when I find myself on the west side of Phoenix. I’m on autopilot, stuck in traffic, when I spot an oasis — a lighted sign that says nothing but “Cocktails” on an old, nondescript block building. I barely avoid…
I know what you’re thinking: The Booze Pig has finally drunk himself stupid — is this guy really going to review a sports bar? Well, let me start by saying that the hole in question used to be called the Copper Coin and, back in its day, it was my…
I’m driving to work. It’s not my usual pound-as-much-coffee-as-you-can-while-not-hitting-anything-and-still-drunk-from-last-night commutes. It’s a caffeine-free jaunt, filled with itching of uncontrollable proportions. If this itching is comparable to rehab — my skin coming off, the kind of itching you read about — then I’m never going to quit drinking. Let me start…
I thought I’d never write about kegger house parties. I mean, I went to school in Wisconsin. But the other night, after pounding my fifth Stag press (a concoction served up at my favorite local hang, Shady’s, that’s like a vodka Red Bull, but they use a knockoff called “White…
It’s a Tuesday, and I’m on my way home. “Frustrated” is an understatement. Sometimes you leave work happy and content, and other times you want to set the world on fire. The sky is raining fire today, so I decide to meet my friend D up at the Swizzle Inn…
It’s 4:20 p.m. on Wednesday and I’m sitting in rush hour traffic, trying to fight my way to happy hour at the Spurr Lounge. I’m doing a sort-of girls’ night out with my two lawyer pals, Cath and Shimba. Shimba is funny, cute, young, and idealistic, and she loves animals…
Lonely days in Phoenix lead to lonely springtime in the desert. Everything is blooming and fornicating, humping, discharging, and collecting all the time, leaving you standing there waiting for that bee. The young dance in the light, on the lawns at spring training games, on small balconies, in backyards by…
It’s Friday and it’s raining — as if we live in the grungy Emerald City of Seattle. Naturally, I throw on my flannel, itching for a drink when I receive a text from my buddy Guano (really, he goes by Guano). It reads, “I’m done with work pay day wanna…
“We can talk about anything you want, long as you’re naked.” — Congressman David Dilbeck (Burt Reynolds) in the 1996 movie Striptease Striptease is a terrible movie. And there are, without a doubt, a lot of terrible strip clubs. But why is it that we feel we can say anything…
I had so many memories of drinking in the afternoons with transvestites and guys doing lines in the bathrooms at the cool, old haunt that used to occupy the corner of Seventh Avenue and Indian School Road. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tarnish any of those “good times.” But,…
