Due to some complicated stuff going on in AF's life (which you can read about on her blog if you are interested), we haven't had much opportunity to get together lately, so we were both pretty pumped.
The agenda for a Shiny Day is to avoid having any real agenda. Instead, we pick a couple of things that sound fun and then spend the day bouncing from one shiny object to another.
In case you haven't figured it out, a shiny object is something that makes you yell "HOLY SHIT! What the FUCK was THAT?!? Turn around!"
The day kicked off when she called me with an epiphany. The epiphany was that she had a lot of steak, a lot of eggs, and a jug of Shatto milk. She would bring them over so I could fix breakfast for us. Steak and eggs! The traditional astronaut pre-launch breakfast! AWESOME!
"The crew of Apollo 11 share the traditional launch day breakfast of steak and eggs on 16 July 1969. From left: Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, Buzz Aldrin, and Director of Flight Crew Operations Donald "Deke" Slayton.
Steak and eggs is a studly breakfast, yes, but it has a practical side. Craig Nelson's 2009 book Rocket Men claims the meal is "low in fiber and low in waste." Race to the Moon, the 1984 book by William Breuer, describes Alan Shepard eating a "low-residue breakfast" of steak and eggs before becoming the first American in space in 1961."
In other words, astronauts ate steak and eggs before launch because it reduced the possibility that they would need to take a shit in space.
But I digress.
After breakfast we started out by heading to the Brass Armadillo based mainly on the weird shit Midtown Miscreant found out there and blogged about the other day.
But I couldn't get at it from I-70 and didn't see it from 40 Hwy and neither one of us cared enough to try any harder, so I made the executive decision to say Fuck It and we headed downtown.
But first, like a couple criminals on the lamb, we had to switch vehicles. We were in my jeep and my stereo got jacked outside of a Barnum & Bailey Circus at Kemper Arena a few years ago and I never bothered to replace it. This was unacceptable to AF so we switched to her truck, where I was subjected to aural rape by country music, dance divas, and Tech N9ne, much to her sadistic delight. Bitch.
Next stop was Weird Stuff Antiques.
Know how I know they have weird stuff? Two ways. It says so on the label.
And there was a big, furry, yellow Cadillac out front.
The shit inside did not disappoint.
There was a black velvet Jeebus.
Giant oversized shit.
Homemade, amatamateurde oil-paintings.
Erotic stained glass panels.
A sock monkey which AF procured for a mere $6.00.
And a pair of fun shoes with matching belt which she did NOT procure because they were not her size.
This doesn't even scratch the surface. There are TONS of cool crap down there. Go check it out!
From there we headed over to the Fringe Festival, but you have to pay $5.00 for a Fringe Button Pass, all of the shows have admission charges that seem to average around $10.00 each and it didn't really kick off until after 6pm. Stay out late, spend a shit load of money to see amatuer performers and artists trying to sell us shit? I don't think so! Fuck that.
Next was Westport. Something called the "Ric Rac Roundup" at Bon Bon Atelier. Bunch of lame ass "art" being shopped by pretentious hipsters and sold by even more pretentious "artists". That was 5 minutes out of our lives we'll never get back.
We tried to salvage the Westport experience by visiting Boomerang, a vintage clothing place at Broadway and Westport Road. FAIL! They had ancient clothing with price tags in the $70 - $80 range. Shit you can get at the DAV store for $2.00! Are stoners really that stupid! Because we aren't.
By then it was almost 3:00 and it was time for "Grab Bag Bingo" at Missie B's.
We had no idea what the fuck "Grab Bag Poker" was. That was the whole point. Some vaguely suggestive version of an old peoples board game held on a Saturday afternoon at a gay bar? THAT is the kind of weird shit we live for!
Earlier in the day, The DLC, author of Kansas City Lunch Spots called and wanted to hook up with us, and we made arrangements to meet at Missie B's for the Grab Bag Bingo.
Well guess what PITCH EVENT CALENDAR! They stopped having "Bag Grab Bingo" at Missie B's several fucking years ago! Update your fucking calendar! Because when AF heard there was no Grab Bag Bingo, she stepped outside to have a smoke and left me sitting alone, wearing my backward Kangol cap, in a crowded gay bar! Waiting for another guy (The DLC) to show up. At which point one of the crusty old patrons asked if I could "scoot my seat to the side" so they could "squeeze in another chair". Fucking HAWESOME!
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
The DLC showed up (equally disappointed that there was no Grab Bag Bingo to be had) and we began reevaluating our options. Strip clubs were under serious consideration. As were lesbian bars. As AF so succinctly suggested, the 3 of us being at a MALE gay bar benefited no one.
Touché. Well played.
AF's steak and eggs were beginning to wear off and she was craving some form of meat covered in blue cheese. Because we can read each other's minds, she anticipated and countered my witty response before it was ever uttered. Sweet!
It came down to a choice between Tootsies and Fric and Frac's.
A quick phone call revealed that Tootsies was not yet open so we proceeded to Fric and Frac's for a blue cheese burger for AF.
On the way to Fric and Frac's we drove by Zebedee's Vintage Record Store which was our next Shiny Object.
After finishing up at Fric and Frac's, the three of us walked down to Zebedee's for a look see. AF picked up a couple of $1.00 CDs. I took this picture of the Living God of the Rastafarians, Haile Selassie.
In case you can't read the banner on my crappy photo, it says "WARNING: HIGHLY Selassie!", which is really funny.
By this point, AF was exhausted and ready for a nap before going out with her sister later tonight, so we all called it a day.
A very shiny day.
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