What’s That? Tapatio Rice.

A few nights ago I cooked dinner for Stephanie. I had been drinking by myself, and then with Tim, Hickman, and Cave. It was tofu stir-fry, and even though I was drunk I did a good job, didn’t burn anything and it tasted good. A few days later I was sober and hungry, so I cooked some rice. I burned the shit out of it. I tried to save it by keeping the good parts and putting Tapatio on it. It was pretty good. The spice was too much for my CapriSun, but I like it that way. If you ever burn rice, save as much as you can and make it spicy, you’ll like it.

I’ve abandoned the raiting system, for now at least. Sorry.

What’s That? We Cheer.

Last week, before I fell off the face of the Earth for a few days, Stephanie and I went to a video game launch party thing. (Yeah, it was my first time, I don’t know the correct nomenclature. It was like the first time I asked for a hand job and I asked my girlfriend if she could “do it like papa does”*) Namco was throwing the bash and were kind enough to have beer there, that they gave to us, for FREE! In between drinks we hung out playing a NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC PANDA and OUTDOOR CHALLENGE and watch dudes way more talented play AFRO SAMURAI and NARUTO ULTIMATE NINJA STORM. But this isn’t about those games, as impressive or fun as they may have been. No, this is about the beast, the dominator, the game that if it was a friend you wouldn’t let your new girlfriend meet him till you had fucked her at least twice. WE CHEER. Yup, WE CHEER. Take you small minded thoughts about video games being for boys and cheer leading being for girls and tuck them between your legs and pull up your skit, sweetie. This game is bad ass. Why? Because it is hard as shit. It has some good songs, some songs that suck, and one by my favorite pop band to play the Warped Tour. And you get to do something you more than likely have never done before, drunkenly cheer. This game should be out so get it. Or wait till it comes out. And invite some friends over, drink a bunch of tequila, and fucking cheer.

*Seriously? I would never say that. At least not when I was 15, I wasn’t that funny yet.

What’s That? Parking Tickets

I was 18. I was living in a house with a bunch of people who had a bunch of cars, and every other week we had to rotate parking spots and hide in other people’s driveways to avoid the street sweeper. I got caught once. One ticket for 27 bucks. I’m 25 now. Friday I spent my day splitting a bottle of Bacardi with Stephanie. We walked around Sunset Blvd and tried on tiny pants. We were late to the meter and I got my first one, $45. Then we drove to a friends house I had never been to before. When we got back to the car there was another ticket, $50. I had blocked part of a driveway. Yup. And when I tried to pull my car forward to take a picture to fight the ticket a car stopped waiting for me to move. I walked to the car to tell the guy what I was doing and he informed me I was blocking his drive way. Ooops. So I drove home.

I’m sure you are wondering how I didn’t know it was a driveway. Well, when I parked, I noticed the driveway, and the fence blocking it from the sidewalk, and I looked, but not close enough, because I thought it was a normal curb. Too much rum.

So, parking tickets? Yeah, they suck. Parking Tickets get 1 empty bottle of rum from the backseat of my double-parked car.

What’s That? Pinkberry’s Granita

I got invited to a Blogger Night at Pinkberry in West Hollywood last week. Tara, who I did shots with last year, sent me the invitation. She got to meat John Cusack the other day, that bitch! (I’m totally kidding, she’s getting married soon, congratulations!) I dragged Stephanie the 25 minute drive to check it out. I’ve never been to a Pinkberry before. They had a DJ. Normally they don’t, but they should. DJ’s make everything better, much like their second cousin, BJ’s. The point of the party was to help launch this drink they have, the Granita. It would be comparable to a yogurt margarita with no booze. It was good. It was free. We also got some free yogurt which was nice. I chatted briefly with one of the owner/investors outside. Nothing like talking with a dude whose shoes giveaway the fact they have more money than I’ve seen in my life to date. He was nice anyways. We also saw a guy’s silver medal from the Olympics. If you have the chance and some extra money go to a liquor store and get an airplane bottle of gin and then go to Pinkberry and get a Granita and mix them together. It sounds tasty in my head. Or you can not go at all. That is fine too.

I give the PInkberry Granita two smuggled in back of the theater bottles of wine. Out of three.

More reviews and a guest post or two coming up!

What’s That? Video Music Awards 2008

I don’t use the abbreviation VMA’s because I want everyone to remember what this whole thing is about: Videos. Funny. Everyone always talks about how MTV doesn’t play videos, and I think people are talking about how M2 (or is it MTV2 now, fuck, I don’t know) doesn’t play videos anymore. It’s because they don’t. I look at the guide on my TV for a random day and I think between the 2 stations you got 5 to 6 hours of videos, out of 48. Whatever. I just don’t think it should be called the Video Music Awards, or the VMA’s. It should just be the MTV Awards. Let the curtain down, no more pretending, no more fussing. Now that is out of the way, the review.
I watched part of this drunk after football on Sunday. I watched the rest at high speed fast forward this morning. I stopped it to see a couple of things.
- That guy isn’t very funny.
- When did the Jonas Brothers join the cast of 227?
- American Apparel is the new black, if black loves the Jonas Brothers.
- I liked it better when the girl from Paramore was trying to be this guy rather than this guy.
- Christian girls sing as off key as I do.
- Jordan Sparks wants to be a virgin again, because, you know, she has a great personality.
- Apparently I have an appointment to kiss Kid Rock’s ass. Really, they should just have Bob Seger out there.
- Kanye looked like Pee Wee.

The show was boring and uninteresting. I’m glad I didn’t watch it live. I was going to tell a story about how this used to be an appointment setting sort of event, but that won’t change anything. Whatever, the Video Music Awards are dead.

I give the 2008 MTV Video Music Awards 0.2 awkward glances from the BOOTH in the back of the dinner.

What’s that? Paper Towels

Let’s get this started off right, ok? Paper Towels. For the past 3 weeks Paper Towels helped my life together. They did the normal things you use Paper Towels for, like clean up spills and demonstrations. But they also did all of the following: wiped my ass, moped up cum, and entertained the cat. Not all at the same time, man, that would have blown the cat’s mind! We ran out of toilet paper in the apartment within the first week. Too cheap (i.e. poor) to buy more, we used paper towels. Little squares, just enough to keep my finger out of my butthole, then lots of soap. Worked great. And they cleaned up cum. Pretty self explanatory there. Also, they keep the cat happy. Our cat, Noam Chomskitty, loves plastic bags and bottle caps. But I think Paper Towels really get him hard. So here’s to you, Paper Towels. Thanks for everything you’ve done!

I need some sort of rating system, 3 parts sounds nice. Help me out.

This is Booth Review.

Let’s keep this pretty simple. My name is Anthony Booth. I am going to review things. Hence, BOOTH REVIEW (yes, all capitals, like you are shouting it!).

I’ll review bands, booze, food, and a whole bunch of other things, so get ready.

Feel free to email me or send me something in the mail:

Anthony Booth
8360 Northgate Ave #211
Canoga Park, CA 91304
sstbooth@gmail.com