RandellFever

Savannah In August: A Night Downtown

My first night in Savannah I decided to grab a map of a city that I had no clue about and walk the streets for a while. By “for a while” I mean all night until i’m lost with no money and no idea how to get home. Here’s how it went down in picture format.

On the way to the river I passed this pointy building. I passed other things too, I’m cool like that.

Oh look, street people by the river.

This was such a nice sunset. The sun likes to get fancy by the river.

Let’s stop at Wild Wings for a beer and an appetizer that they forgot to charge me for.

Oh, a frozen drink bar.

ooh, a tunnel.

To be honest, this is where the whole night gets sketchy. Let’s let it ride.

Blackout. Hope you’re drunk by now, suck the lime.

Savannah In August: Arrival

I recently took a trip to Savannah, GA where I got drunk, was robbed, got in a fight and had an overall groovy time. I was there for a week. Here’s how the arrival went down in picture format.

A beginning.

The first night I stayed in the swanky Hamilton Turner Mansion in the heart of the downtown historic district near the river.

First door on the right at the top of the stairs. Let’s see the Nathaniel Greene room.

Now that we’re all dressed with somewhere to go, we can go down to the gathering room for complimentary wine and h’orderves.

That with a little high class conversation and 3 glasses of wine first. Now we’re ready to hit the night scene. Let’s leave through the garden gate since we’re a little buzzed.

You see that gate, that’s the beginning of the insanity. You see this sentence, that’s the beginning of the end of this post. The next post will be a non detailed pictorial of the pandemonium that was my first Saturday night. Don’t eat the broken glass my lovely.

Lord of the Loo

In a small town called Douglasville, GA there is a gas station where I visited the bathroom for the first time this week. This photo was hanging on the wall in front of the urinal. Why do so many artists make Jesus look like a late 60′s deaf pedophile? And while we’re on the subject, what’s with the heart thing? Anyway, enjoy. Your friend, me.

Curryish Beef

While in the home of an Indian family I was given a box of curry powder mix that they use straight out of their own cupboard. I assume that’s the traditional custom although I didn’t ask. All she said is that it’s really hot and spicy so only use half of the mix and use it on chicken so naturally I used it all in a delicious beef dish. Here’s how it went down in picture format.

This stuff’s the Shan!!

Brown rice… meat… beans…

Now make a volcano with the olive oil for fun.

Only work with curry using the cutest utensils possible.

The rest is pretty obvious.

Spinach… I don’t think I mentioned the spinach.

Now plate it and take an unusually close picture of it just before eating it.

And have some milk handy because this is one hot dish. There’s a clove of garlic but my feelings aren’t hurt that I didn’t give it any screen time. Now eat it.

Your Friend,

Randell

Amos BBQ & Biscuits

Today I went for BBQ at one of the local dives that I haven’t been to before. Small place with room for about a dozen inside at the most. I was a bit of an outsider as everyone seemed to know everyone except the weirdo that ordered enough food for 4, only ate a few bites of everything, took pictures and wrote in his little red book more than he ate.  Here’s how it went down in picture format.

Before the kid took my order he had to yell back into the kitchen “I’m helping a customer, Mama! What can I getcha?”

He sold me on the pulled pork, brunswick stew, fried okra and baked beans. forget all that, look inside this place.

The brunswick stew comes out first… appetizing appetizer.

Let’s look at pig butt and dead confederates.

No time for love Dr. Jones, cuisine is here in a jiffy!

The baked beans, average. The okra, really good. The sauce mild, slightly tangy and sweet. The pork, outstanding. Tender and subtly smoky. Now lets get brave and surprise the kitchen with a quick uninvited photo.

The element of surprise not always being the best bet, I’m being chased out of the kitchen… but not without evidence.

A great experience and fantastic people. The place is so small that you almost have to sit with someone to eat inside if there’s more that 4 people there. A man even took a guitar off the wall and played a couple of tunes before he left. I didn’t get a picture because my fingers were covered in sauce but trust me, it happened. I ordered a half rack of ribs and a couple of sides for a leftover test that I’ll post tomorrow.

Hope you feel as sticky as I do my lolly jollies.

Update: Leftover post will just be a little addition here.

To be honest, this stuff is fantastic heated up.

Especially the ribs. The dry rub is best without any sauce at all.

Happy Sticky!

Bob Hope

I met a very interesting man named Bob Hope. He’s a golfer and a machinist. I was sent to his house on an errand and before I knew it he was showing me his workshop, his toys that he’d made over the years, and old things that he’s collected. He told me 5 times that he’s been divorced for 29 years so I guess that’s worth a mention. Before I knew it he had pulled out a solid stick of bronze and began making me a ball marker for when I’m golfing on the green. I don’t play golf. Whatever, here’s how it went down in picture format.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Bob Hope.

Bob has one of the first electric refrigerators ever made. He got it out of a trash pile around 40 years ago and fixed it.

Over 100 years old he thinks and it still works.

The process of making a custom ball marker took about 45 minutes. Good thing he had a stick of raw bronze handy.

He tapped my initials onto the bottom using an 80 year old set of letter stamps.

Intermission.

Polish… seriously Bob Hope? Seriously.

I now have my very own ball marker on the off chance that I decide to pick up golf. I wonder if the kids on the coarse will make fun of me for having a homemade one instead of a flashy plastic one… Behold.

And that was my experience with Bob Hope. What i didn’t get a picture of was the air controlled train whistle that he made and mounted to his 1975 Jeep that he has been preparing for the upcoming Georgia Steam Engine Festival in October… I mean, I had to go man!

Hope you had a great time… Word.

Pig Face Fiasco (Hog Jowl)

Today my only goal was to go to a local BBQ dive and rate the pork. I’ve been looking forward to it all week. When I got there they were closed… figures. Luckily I had a slab of hog jowl in the fridge ready to roll. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the cuisine, it’s literally the side of the face. Here’s how it went down in picture format.

Sweet Cheeks

Now have some fruit while it cooks… for balance.

Keep it healthy, paper towel it to soak up some grease.

Turnip greens with turnips, onions and a ton of cayenne pepper.

Now put that face in your face.

So there you go. Now go try some pig cheek, my lovelies.

The Sardine Experience

Now just throw that shit in the yard and have some raisin bran. Have a nice summer.

Urban Art

This is a nice little shot of some urban art that i picked up downtown the other day. Just found it again so you look at it too.

Now that was fun… wasn’t it.

Father’s Day 2010

Today we celebrate Dads. I’m not a Dad myself but i certainly have one. He’s a character. I only took a few shots today and only one of them is of my old man. In fact, it’s a photo of a photo from a few years back since i’m too lazy to use a scanner. It’s my favorite picture of him. Enjoy lovers.

This is a pic from my folks not too long after they got married. Mom made me promise to mention that she hasn’t been a rounder since the 70′s. I can’t remember how she said to say it but you get the drift.

My Gramps is no stranger to the paparazzi.

The best food on the planet.

Here’s the little guest that greeted me fresh out of the shower. He’s lucky i’m going through a passive phase.

And for my final trick, it’s me doing angry with cynicism… and me doing bad camera sadness.

Father’s Day 2010. Not a total disaster at all. Later Lovelies.