Last night I attended a Happy Hour at the Front Page in Dupont Circle. I had only had a couple drinks at the time this signature was written, but like this time, I’m convinced the beer I was drinking had an unusually high alcohol content. The receipt shows it was an early 7:18PM. It was towards the end of the Happy Hour and I was reeling from it as you can see from the signature below.

As I recall, my first signature was on the restaurant’s copy, and the second receipt I signed (my own copy) had a more legible signature. I was feeling rebellious, and took the “wrong” copy of the receipt to save for my drunk-art records. I felt it wouldn’t matter though, as I had signed both copies.

My rebellion took over in my signature as well. You can see that I pretty much gave up creating clear letters after the first letters of my first and last names. My favorite part of this creation however, is the large circle that floats above the type. It is front and center, calling out for some attention. The addition of the strong horizontal line that flourishes throughout, ties the composition together nicely as well.

• onomatopoeia
• crazy
• plethora
• dollop
• err
• chic
• subtle
• aluminum
• anemone
• inaudible

Before Hunter and before Boudreau, there was Glen Hanlon. Hanlon had a brief career as the Caps’ coach, lasting for only four-five-ish years, including a gap year during the NHL Lockout. Hanlon was the first coach that star player, Alex Ovechkin would play under. In 2006, Halon was named, “sports man of the year” by a famous Belarusian newspaper for taking the Belarus hockey team to a historic 6th place in the Men’s World Ice Hockey Championships. Another fun fact is that back when Hanlon played (and not coached) hockey, he was a goalie; the first goalie in fact, to allow Wayne Gretzgy’s first NHL career goal. Also, Glen Hanlon had his 55th birthday yesterday!

Before Hanlon, was the Caps’ other coach named Bruce. Bruce Cassidy. While one Bruce may have been known by the nickname, “Gabby,” this man was known, simply as “Butch.”  This former defenseman player, Butch had the displeasure of Coaching the Caps back when they struggled to sell tickets to their games. (I fondly remember a time when you could get tickets for $5 a pop. Oh, the memories.) Butch’s coaching career with the Caps however, was even shorter than Hanlon’s as Butch was only with the team for two seasons. Also, Butch was the Caps’ coach when I started liking the team. He can currently be found coaching the Bruins’ minor league affiliate team, the Providence Bruins.

I’m still unsure about my feelings towards our current coach, Dale Hunter, but so far, he has not proven to be who the Caps really needed in trying times like these. Who knows what the coaching situation will be like next season, but for now, games under Mr. Hunter, are not looking as we all would have hoped with this season’s coaching change. We can only hope things get better from here on out to the playoffs.

Quite possibly the easiest song to sing for karaoke from the Elvis songbook is, “Hound Dog.” There are two verses to this song and they are as follows:

You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog
Cryin’ all the time. (x2)
Well, you ain’t never caught a rabbit
And you ain’t no friend of mine.

Well they said you was high classed
Well, that was just a lie. (x2)
Yeah, you ain’t never caught a rabbit
And you ain’t no friend of mine.

Those are the only lyrics to the entire song. And the song just repeats itself over and over so if you get it wrong the firs verse or two, you’ll have plenty of chances to get it eventually right!

Another good song for karaoke novices is Ray Charles’, “Hit The Road, Jack.” Except for one or two real verses that you can just wing, the entire song consists of the following lyrics:

Hit the road Jack and don’t you come back no more, no more, no more, no more.

There are a lot of “don’t you come back no more’s” in the song, making it approximately 90% of the song’s both filler and lyrics. You might just want to familiarize yourself with the couple of “real” verses though before you chose this one, but if not, it shouldn’t be a real issue.

These are just a couple of songs to chose from to sing, hassle-free. If you’re looking for more ideas, I suggest (at least for me) any early song by The Beatles or Ray Charles because thankfully for you- many of those songs (or music from the early 1960s) rely on repetition of easy-to-sing-and-remember phrases. Good luck singing, everyone!

I had been conversing with my dad about the day’s events and so forth. My dad mentioned how it’s been absurd that we’ve gotten just a few snow dustings this past winter and it’s already half-way through February. He noted that the plants are really missing getting the water they need to grow. It didn’t occur to me that we were going through a drought, no less a simple lack of snow. And then as if Mother Nature had heard my dad’s frustration, we have had a steady stream of drizzle all day.

I had been playing Mayer Hawthorne’s new album for my dad and we agreed that his music is just amazing. I was explaining to my dad that I’ve only had one regret in life (impressive, my dad thought) and that was not attending a Mayer Hawthorne concert a few years ago at the Black Cat. I had found out about the concert at the last minute, and since I was weary of venturing into a borderline safe neighborhood at night by myself, I sadly decided against going. So this morning when I received a weekly email from the 9:30 Club saying that Mayer Hawthorne would be coming to perform in April, I jumped at my second chance to see him back in D.C.

I may not know what it’s like to feel in love, but when my heart stopped for a few seconds (after my fabulous discovery that seeing my latest favorite musician would be finally be attainable) I assumed that this giddiness was of something similar. My co-worker noted that I was in my own world of joy and awe after I had purchased my ticket and knew I was guaranteed to see this amazing man. It seems that April will be the month to solve many problems. April showers and Mayer Hawthorne. Sounds like a pretty good combination if you ask me!

Two things that we will be seeing in April: Mayer Hawthorne and flowers.

For real sick.

I had planned a fairly mellow evening yesterday for an Anti-Valentine’s Day shindig of sorts. We were to watch a movie that had absolutely nothing to do with love (best movie ever) and just chill out with other cool people who happened to be single. Of the eight people who said they were coming or who were interested in attending, an impressive four of those had last minute ailments keeping them from coming over.

Most likely how many people were feeling.

The odd thing, was that these people were feeling sick on Valentine’s Day (or leading up to the holiday). It was as if this Valentine’s Day was even more nauseating than others. This holiday proved to be more nasty than it should be. Something was in the air this year, and it sure didn’t seem to be love.

Doilies!

The line art in this drawing is great.

This design is cool.

"Love Rocks" card.

And lastly, possibly my favorite thing that can be related in some way to Valentine’s Day: Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony from Disney’s, Fantasia. This part of the movie is my favorite, with the centaurs and cupids. It’s pretty cute. And you know, what’s Valentine’s Day without some Cupids? Enjoy!

Valentine’s Day is absurd. I’m not the biggest fan of this holiday, but don’t get me wrong- I’m not your average sourpuss about it either. Sure, I’ve been single for approximately 95% of the Valentine’s Days in my life, and for a holiday focused on being coupled up, you’d think I would be bitter about being single on this holiday. Maybe it’s because I try not to focus on that major deficiency, but that’s frankly not why I’m so against the holiday of love.

Simply put, Valentine’s Day is pointless. I ask the same question every year: why do we need a certain one day out of the year to celebrate love? Maybe I just have the mind of a free-loving Hippie, but why must we be told when to celebrate something so natural? A day mandated to shove love in everyone’s faces? It just doesn’t seem necessary.

Granted, if it’s about a day to sell discounted chocolates and candies and applaud the lovely, hard work of artists and graphic designers, then I’ll endorse the occasion. But the reason for said celebration is over-the-top, campy, and pointless. I suppose I should be thankful for a way to boost sales in our depleted economy, but I just think there could be a better holiday to do it with.

So here, on February 13th, I am enjoying the calm before the love-storm. Sure, hearts are displayed everywhere you look, but I’d like to think they are just nice decorations and not something put up specifically for one certain day. February 13th is a like a haven of anticipation leading up to nothingness. The hypocrisy is glorious.

Today I present you with possibly my best drunken signature to date. This one is from Los Angeles’ Staples Center, part-way through the Caps versus Kings game I went to last month. It was a miserable game, with the Caps losing 5-2. So to help drown my sorrows, I ended up consuming much alcohol. The time on this receipt recalls that at this point, the game was probably around its half-way point and the Caps were already losing.

But that isn’t the point. Look at that fluidity of the signature. You can maybe make out the first letter of my first and last name -maybe. I love the loops, the curves, and the carelessness. Perhaps I can start “collecting” drunken signatures (my own? others?) and showcase them here. It’s not so much about the hazy state the “author” was in, as I’d like the focus to be more on the artistic characteristics one can observe of the thoughtless typography.

I adore Mayer Hawthorne. But I realize that he’s something of a star. And that I likely won’t be shacking up with anyone famous anytime soon. But Mayer Hawthorne seems to think otherwise. Or at least he sings about it. His lyrics are spot on, describing that he knows that he and a girl he wants to sleep with probably aren’t going to be dating at any point, but he doesn’t care.

No I don’t need to know a thing about your past
No I just want one night with you no strings attached
And I know that we might not be the perfect match
And I just want one night with you no strings attached

The song is totally something a guy would write. It’s kind of like the modern-day version of Marvin Gaye’s, “Let’s Get It On,” except this song is more from the loins and less from the heart. This song could also be related to a favorite Jack Johnson song of mine too, but again, less poetic, and more no-nonsense. Hawthorne isn’t interested in “making love,” he’s interested just having some satisfaction and some basic yearnings fulfilled. It’s a pretty straight-forward and almost primitive subject matter, and if it weren’t for his crooning voice and soothing good looks, this song might also be considered a tad crude. But you’ve got to love him for speaking his mind, nonetheless.