Political Incorrectness as its Best (Worst?)

I live above a restaurant for those who do not know. It is an awful restaurant with awful management. In any case, I've started playing this game where I count the Japanese tourists who take pictures of the "Villa Francesca" sign below my window. I'm at 5 in just the last hour.
My bed sits in front of the window. I am in many Japanese photo albums.

I'm going to take this opportunity to further my political incorrectness and describe my work at Legal Sea Food's in relation to Japanese tourists. Take notes those who are thinking about becoming waiters.

It starts when I see a Japanese gentleman, woman, family, etc. seated at one of my tables.
Firstly, they don't speak English, unless there are 4 or more in which case one will speak broken English knowing a minimal vocabulary, words like "ketchup" and "fork". Before you judge, I know which ones are visiting from Japan and which ones are Americans because the Americans are not carrying cameras. A table of Japanese tourists will have a digital camera per individual and at least one video camera on the table.
Anyway, even before I get to the table, they've stopped at least 2 other waiters and asked them about "robstahs!"
Oh they love the robstah. And by damn I will give them robstah.
In any case, I take their order (Cram chowda and robstah for everyone. Except the old lady who has the robstah row). I leave and they start laughing about something. I have no idea what is so humorous about lobster, except when you pronounce it robstah. In any case they start taking pictures of each other laughing. Then they start taking pictures of each other taking pictures. Until it's one big clusterfuck of flashes and laughing.
I bring over their lobster crackers and bib and they laugh because robstah bibs are hilarious. Then, and here's the part that gets me every time, they take a picture of the lobster cracker and bib.

I couldn't imagine going over my friends house after their trip and looking at their pictures. "Here's one of the sidewalk! and here's the robstah! HAHAHA ROBSTAH! and the silverware! and here's a picture of Hisatayako taking a picture of me taking a picture of him! HAHAHA!"
I would hate my friends.

Let there be drinking!!

...and God did speak and he did say "There shall be a place minors can achieve alcohol." He spake from the clouds unto mine ears and spoke like so, "Child of mine! Desperate son of the North End! You have been patient in your quest. Take this farcical identification and be 21!"

So I did. And again he spake unto me.

"You have been successful, child. What was your first purchase?"

The label did glow.

"Blue Moon. Nice choice. You can really taste the orange."

"Yea, it's smoother than most beers."

"No, totally. I know what you mean..."

God did look upon me as he spoke. And I looked at him. And he did nod. I did nod at him. And in that moment it was kind of awkward.

"Son! You have done good by the hands of God. I do declare that you shall take this path and drink thine brewski. You shall take the bottle in its entirety to thine own face. And the rest shall follow until you cannot walk straight and have lost control of thine bladder."

I did hear the words of God and obeyed. He turned to me and I raised mine bottle in a toast. And he did say,
"I am SO drunk right now!"

Spring has sprung and so have I

Boston's winter is miserable. Winter is a frigid, castrating bitch, tapping your soul, draining all joy straight from your marrow.

Melodramatic maybe, but entirely non-fiction.

Unfortunately it is because of days like today that I don't feel justified in shitting all over Boston, discussing her flaws, etc. Because spring in Boston is beautiful. I get an erection just thinking about the beauty.

The Bros are out to play ultimate frisbee, the Hos are out to display cleavage, the hobos are always out being crazy, etc. How can you get enough? You just can't. Though I must say, Bag Pipe Lady...you have to stop. How many notes did you hit? I think all of them.

I'm going to do a piece on musicians of Boston. Let's see, there's the schizophrenic Accordion player of Hanover, the Old Man Accordion player of Caffe something-or-other (both of whom only play the Godfather theme). Then there's "Boston's Best Erhu Player 2008!" That's the Chinese gentlemen who sits in the Park Street T stop. The one playing off-key. The wide-eyed one who looks like he hasn't slept in days. Then there's the elderly gentleman who sings Beatles tunes at Government Center. Oh God, the list goes on!

That's enough for now. Long and short of it, spring in Boston is way better than Winter. El Fin.

First Order Of Business

I have good news and bad news.
Good news: every Monday night there is free pizza at the Pushcart Cafe on Salem St. Seriously. Buy yourself a $2 soda and tip well and you're in broke college student paradise.
Bad News: You are not allowed to eat free pizza.

It was a sad state of affairs. While attending the much celebrated free pizza Mondays for 4 weeks straight, my roommates and I had been in Italian delicacy bliss until the last fateful evening when we were told to not return for a year. A whole year!
The fat gentleman who made the pizzas was often uncomfortable and hovered a lot, but we disregarded him as we had free pizza in our hands. We realized only later that this man was deathly serious and was out for blood.

I challenge you to attend free pizza night successfully for more than 4 weeks in a row without being excommunicated. What harm could come of it? Nothing, but free pizza. (Girls with large breasts are excluded from this contest as they are guaranteed at least an extra two weeks of free pizza due to the attractiveness of their mammary glands.)

The North End of the World

Oh, the North End. I live in you but I would never call you home.

The North End is at all times swarming with two types of people: tourists, and cranky, stone-faced, territorial old Italians. If you're a tourist you're probably wondering how to get to Paul Revere's House. Don't bother, it's not cool.

Stories are written every goddamed minute here, and it would be irresponsible not to document the characters and plots that unfold ceaselessly.

I will do my best to capture these images and stories and relay them to you in the most entertaining way possible.

Please comment if there is anything specific you think should be discussed.