One Night at Gannon's

When Good Men Go Football...

2007-02-04T13:44:00.000-08:00

One night at Gannon's close to one month ago...the three of us were up to our usual antics of drinking and owning the jukebox. All was well and we were having a grand time when a certain person showed up with some thug friends and the night quickly turned sour. Football was the topic of conversation and since Jas is not a Bears fan, things did not go so well. A scary fight almost occurred and too many shots of tequila were swallowed...
This was not our usual night at Gannon's and due to the circumstances we may not go there for a while...what a SAD post.
One Night at Gannon's - to be continued?????

Everyone Secretly Loves Michael Jackson

2006-12-18T15:06:00.000-08:00

One night at Gannon's...last Friday to be exact, TinyA, Drangela, and Jas were there to celebrate an accomplishment of Drangela's - the details aren't important, but it consists of more than drinking her ass off... Anyway, we had some drinks and then hit the jukebox square in the nuts. We played rockin' favorites like Part Time Lover, Jukebox Hero, and some Michael Jackson, of course. To our great surprise, as Man in the Mirror blared from the speakers, every mother fucker in the joint was singing along - EVERYONE! It was like being in a surreal music video. I couldn't believe it - an incredible sight indeed. We met some other 80's lovers and our two tables rocked out in unison. That place never ceases to amaze me. It is just an ordinary bar, in an ordinary neighborhood, yet it somehow becomes so much more, and so it was...another lovely night at Gannon's.

Pee Wee and a Pocketful of Mustaches

2006-10-29T09:30:00.000-08:00

"Caroline's Dead rocks the body and house."

That's pretty much what's being said up and down Lincoln Avenue today after everyone got their first glance at highly-acclaimed rockers Caroline's Dead sporting their new looks. Lip, Dizzy, and Pablo did not disappoint.

It was a night full of Grandpa time, energy drinks, sports-loving Canadians, and celebrity sightings. Pee Wee donned a smashing suit and shiny shoes to catch the band in action and to get a feel of Pablo's ass. Not just everyone can get away with that. (Keep that in mind Pee Wee.) A few other notables: Bloody Mary, Duffman, and that hot cowboy. The band made a quick appearance at Big Boobs just to remind Sylvie what she's been missing out on. You can bet she is making some phone calls this afternoon in hopes of booking the band, a trio of hometown kids made good.

Thank you Chicago and good night.

Hey Summer, Wanna Play me?

2006-09-26T11:07:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago TinyA and I went to Gannon's to celebrate her big three-oh. We were sitting at a table talking nonstop as usual when a familiar face walked up to our table. I smiled and said hello and TinyA looked at me as if I invited him ahead of time to our festivities. Lo and behold, it was Napoleon fucking Dynamite - just a little more grown up with red hair and extremely intoxicated! He sat with us and bought us drinks and talked mostly about the White Sox. Much to my dismay he didn't mention that summer in Alaska hunting wolverines with his uncle or brag about his numchuck skills. But he was entertaining and surprisingly cool to have around, up until the point when he kept trying to hold my hand...
Later we headed to the Flying Pancake for some shitty food. The food was, well shitty, and we both received an unnecessarily large side of scary that neither of us ordered. Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Booty Booty Booty Booty.

We are the Drunks

2006-06-01T08:56:00.000-07:00

Last Friday TinyA and I headed to Gannon's while the sun was still shining. It was very strange to see the place all lit up by the outside world. Jas joined us later and had some catching up to do, which basically meant we all drank faster - never a good idea. We played some banger music from the eighties - Twisted Sister, Motley Crue, and of course our usual array of songs that couldn't possibly be more eclectic. We were pleased that there were two different bartenders working who had never seen the likes of us before. A blonde who was on top of both bartending and keeping our drinks coming, and then later a young guy who seemed to like our taste in music and obliged us by turning up the volume several times. No crabby Smiths guy, no ditzy stoned case of amnesia, and no medical student who hates fun drunks... It was a whole new Gannnons and we loved every minute of it. Afterwards we headed to TinyA's and practiced what will soon become the one-hit wonder remake of Caroline's Dead - We Are the World. After eight or nine times, I think we were starting to have it down. We are the Gannon's. We are the grab-your-ankle-and-jump-backwards-dancers. We are the ones who ask you to turn the music up for every new song that comes on.... Come on sing along, you know the words.

In Our Own Little World

2006-05-21T07:25:00.000-07:00

I cannot express how much I LOVE the fact that the last time we were at Gannon's for Jas' birthday we took pictures like maniacs! TinyA counted 90-something which doesn't include the fifteen or so that I took. So there we were drunk as anything and snapping pictures in dark Gannon's - the flash going off every few seconds - screaming our retard version of "cheese" and completely oblivious to the fact that Gannon's was packed. It was our bar that night, and no one could tell us otherwise - and even if they did we weren't listening...

They scare me...

2006-05-08T10:03:00.000-07:00

Tiny-A picked us up sometime between 6:30, and I don't know when. We careened our way to my birthday, I had suggested sushi, and Tiny-A knew the spot. You can always tell a good sushi joint the minute you walk in. Japanese staff, check, Japanese decor, check, 2 dozen Red Hat Ladies? It was a small place, almost a hole in the wall, but what the hell where the Red Hats doing there?

I couldn't help but feel out of place, uneasy, even scared. Something about the grizzled old hags sent shivers down my spine. I half expected them to suddenly transform in B-Movie monsters and start eating the staff with over sized teeth, and clown faces. They had apparently ordered everything on the menu, and with upturned noses they picked and prodded at their food. I couldn't help but watch, thinking that at any moment, my birthday dinner would suddenly turn into a 'Killer Klowns From Outerspace' sequel.

Tiny-A recalled some brief stories of her mother, who had at one time almost joined their cult. I wondered what dastardly plans she had been privy to, what strange bizarre rituals had she seen. And most of all, I wondered where one buys that many red sequins. But we ate, our stomachs growling. We devoured our rolls, Dragons, Spiders, the city of Philadelphia, and the entire state of California. Our belly's happily sedated, it was time to unleash the beast.

Tiny-A floored it, a little rocket, we flew to her place, to park the vehicle. It was time, Gannon's was calling. A quick, chilly walk brought us before the door. I could almost hear a collective sigh, "Oh great, it's them", as we walked in. Only one table remained, off in the back, pinned in between the others, but it would do until we could snatch another.

Duty called, I asked Baby to order for me. A few minutes later, I was ready, but we had forgotten one crucial piece of the puzzle, jukebox money. Tiny-A and Baby said they'd be right back, they headed to the ATM outside. They stood outside, barely visible through the window for a minute, I turned away, looked back, and they were gone. Our drinks came, but they were no where to be found. I began to get worried, and then they walked in, with a surprise. Baby sauntered down the bar giggling, holding a shiny balloon, "Happy 18th Birthday".

Of course the whole bar looked, and wondered. I was embarrassed a bit, I must say. But it was fitting. The drinks were flowing, and a new table opened up. We moved to our new spot, and proceeded to get retarded. The night is now blurry from this point on. I remember talking to the random people behind us, taking a dozen retarded pics, trying to get Tiny-A and Baby to make out. I lost track of how many drinks we had, but apparently it was just enough to make me pass out.

1 - 2 - 3 Act Like a Retard

2006-05-07T14:41:00.000-07:00

A night out at Gannon's for Jas' big 3 - oh. Or according to the balloon Drangela and I carried in for him, the big 18. The sad balloon joined us at the table for the night. The night seems a little blurry to me. I don't think I was totally drunk, but the night just flew by. We took a lot of pictures. I have a new respect for Carla, the ditzy waitress, who when asked to act like a retard with us in one of these lovely pictures, actually did it. Yay Carla. Though I was a bit shocked when she informed us that Erin, our former waitress, hated us. I always thought Erin liked us. But really, are we likeable? I think that group of Mexicans really liked Jas. They bought him a drink. That's cool and all because it was his birthday, but by the looks of their shirts, I'm guessing they were gay.

On a scale of one to ten...

2006-05-07T13:23:00.000-07:00

And so last night the three of us celebrated Jas' 30th birthday at our favorite place. It was a great time, and I think that Jas really enjoyed drinking his way into his thirties, so to speak. So according to our current waitress, whose name escapes me even after Jas asked her what it was several times last night, Erin, our old waitress, hates us. But Marty the Smiths-loving bartender does not in fact hate us. And on a scale of one to ten, according to ditzy-waitress-whats-her-name we are a 5 on the irritating scale. Not bad. Although I don't really believe her, as she has to pretend to like us to get a decent tip. Overall it was a fun and much needed night out at Gannon's, lots of pictures were taken, and lots of sentences were repeated. It was gorgeous.

I'm gonna be 30 dude.

2006-05-03T14:17:00.000-07:00

Four days to go, and presumably a night at Gannons. I wonder, how will it go? What kind of craziness will transpire? Will there be booty dancing? Streaking? Possibly some bra showing? Will the waitress be a total ditz? Most importanly, will I remember it all?

A Brief History of our Universe

2006-04-27T10:04:00.000-07:00

There’s always a history, but how much of it is liquor laced fiction, and how much of it is written by the victor? Perhaps that question is better left to conspiracy theorists. Hidden away somewhere are secrets, that only men with hats can discover. But they have to start somewhere, and there is a giant X on the map, with a notation next to it, “Big Boobs”.

Sometimes X’s get drawn on maps purely by accident, sometimes simply because you couldn’t think of anywhere else to go. But that’s where it started, inside Big Boobs. Racking up the balls, on the green velvet table, inside Silvie’s Tripple D’s. For a while we had Big Boobs all to our selves, it was our treasure securely tucked away on Irving street.

It seemed a place all our own. We owned Saturday nights, and any other day of the week we decided to adventure there. But eventually, the surgeon was called, the table was prepped, and the breast reduction was performed. It was a shocking moment, that time we first laid eyes on the resculpted Boobs. It was like everyone else now, decked out in ripped jeans and piercings, glow sticks, and awful, awful music.

Where were the Big Boobs? Where was that cavernous cleavage we danced around inside with abandon? Where was our five dollar jukebox whore? She was gone, replaced with a trendy clone. Some will tell you this is where the story fades, and the leads start to run dry. But the men with hats, the ones with the map, they know that with the birth of Silvie’s, came Caroline, oh wait, Caroline’s dead.

The trail did not grow cold, it shifted, and rooted itself inside Tiny A’s den. More evidence was hidden, tucked away inside those walls. Cryptic marks were etched into the floor. Men with hats might stare through their magnifying glass and remark, “Wana be Startin’ Something?”

But the tiny chapel couldn’t hold enough history, enough secrets. And once again, perhaps by accident, perhaps because there was no where else better to go, a new land of wonder was found. Hidden inside were boisterous spirits, a magical music beast, and one foul, lanky troll guarding the volume, known only as ‘Boobs on Head’. And Even though Caroline’s Dead, history seems to indicate that new life was found. That in this magical land, inhibitions were tossed aside, along with the occasional article of clothing, and people were gay, simply because of their shirt.

So late at night, while watching Men in hats on the Discovery Channel, you may hear one of them say, “It was here, that the eternal burning question was answered, one only a few men have been privy to witness one woman say to another, ‘But if you were a lesbian…’”.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words...

2006-04-25T14:28:00.000-07:00

Holy Crap! It's Bleeding Like Crazy...

2006-04-10T16:58:00.000-07:00

Drangela and I had just finished getting our long-awaited tattoos. After much built-up anticipation and nervousness, we decided we needed to go out and celebrate. We picked J up and proudly showed him our bandages. It was a cold, rainy night. We arrived at Gannon's. It must have been after 1 a.m. We ordered drinks from the ditzy waitress. She brought them over and we told her to start a tab. I looked over at Drangela's bandaged arm and said, "Shit, it's bleeding like crazy." She gave me this upset look and then looked down herself. She immediately needed fresh air. I took her outside and tried to make her feel better. I just know it made her feel better when I grabbed her freshly tattooed arm. She was being held up by the wall and was looking really pale. I started not feeling too hot myself. We were out there for awhile and J came out to see what was up. I went in and demanded our tab. The waitress was very confused. I looked at our table with three completely full drinks, grabbed our stuff, and bailed. So...we either drink to excess or drink nothing at all. We are awesome.

The Rockstar Cometh

2006-04-09T14:29:00.000-07:00

It was one night at Gannon's, many months ago...the three of us were celebrating Tiny A's birthday. We imbibed our usual amount of drinks and the jukebox was ours. J headed up to the bar to order some shots of Grandpatime, while Tiny A and I rocked out in our chairs and screamed up some conversation. J was gone quite a while and when we finally noticed this, it became apparent that he was signing autographs. Tonight he was the drummer for Nine Inch Nails and upon mentioning this to a few people sitting at the bar, he was asked for his John Hancock. I can still picture the adorable Asian woman's face as she received a signed napkin for her brother who is a big fan - she was overflowing with happiness. J is never one to refuse an autograph for a fan. Tiny A and I considered ourselves lucky to be drinking with a rockstar, and we kept them coming until they turned on the brutal lights. Afterwards we headed to the Flying Pancake and shoved our faces. Our waittress didn't know who she was serving, even after being told countless times. Her loss, she could have had an autographed napkin worth thousands of dollars. We finished up the night the way rockstars and groupies should, by stripping naked and running down the street...Damn it feels good to be a rockstar.

The Pisser

2006-04-04T12:50:00.000-07:00

It was an average night at Gannon's. Booze, good music, laughs. I had watched many people go back and forth to the bathroom. J and Drangela had been back and forth. I held out as long as I could. Both bathrooms were available. I chose the one further away. I usually pick that one. I guess I think that people can hear me pee in the close one. I did what I had to do, washed my hands, tried the door. Nothing. The handle moved up and down but the door just wouldn't open. I walked back and forth a little. I tried again. Nothing. I started to panic. I started banging on the door with all my strength. I kicked it with my boots. Still nothing. I didn't have my purse, no phone. It was loud. I calmed down a little, sat down on the toilet. Somebody was bound to come soon. Drangela wouldn't forget about me. I wouldn't die in the bathroom at Gannon's. Or would I? More panic. I started to scream "Help, help!" I splashed my face with water. Started banging and screaming some more. Finally, someone that worked there asked if I was locked in? He sledgehammered the lock and rescued me. It seemed like I was in there forever. I think those mofo's ordered another round without me!

The Case of the Missing Cigarettes

2006-04-01T21:06:00.000-08:00

Well it was another night at Gannon's, not too long ago, and the three of us had been there for a few hours. The music was of our choice and therefore incredible, and the drinks were in steady supply as usual. I knew that I had most of a pack of Camel Lights left but couldn't seem to find it anywhere....I searched and searched and J asked the people sitting at a table near us. One guy responded "well she threw a pack over here about an hour ago" Nonsense. I do not throw my pack of cigarettes across Gannon's - must have been Drangela, she gets like a madwoman when she drinks...Needless to say, the image of me throwing my cigarettes across the room is hysterical. I wonder if I hit anyone? That would have made it worthwhile.

The Fish Fry (as seen through sober eyes)

2006-03-31T19:10:00.000-08:00

I was sitting home wondering what the hell to do with myself when I got the call. It was 7:00 at the latest. It went something like this:

Drangela: We just left the Green Mill and we're going to Gannon's for some cocktails.
Me: Now?
Drangela: Look J, there's a dog. That dog is so fucking cute. Oh shit, I just fell.
J: Yeah, we need a dog.
Me: Hello?
Drangela: Come to Gannon's. Bye.

I arrived at Gannon's about half an hour later. The scene was mellow, quiet even. Then I see them waving me over. When I saw their red faces, I realized I had a whole lot of catching up to do. It was indeed a Friday during Lent. There were couples on dates. They were eating fish and probably discussing their weeks at work. We played some music. Yeah, our classics. J was singing the Gambler and holding up his glass, "Come on. Everybody!" Without Me came on. J yelled "Bitch" as loud as he could. Dirty looks all around. And then I don't know what song it was when Drangela decided to shake that ass. And I'll never forget the faces of that couple directly next to us who were getting a plate of ass. And then she showed me and maybe a few others her sparkly bra, which was indeed quite nice.

We needed more music. We sauntered to the jukebox. There were some dudes already there.

Drangela: "Hey Mr. Pants. What's up with those pants you're wearing?"

Yes, we are fucking rock stars.

The Fish Fry.

2006-03-30T10:50:00.000-08:00

One night at Gannons….

We started early; the Green Mill was on tap first that night. It always starts with just one... Before you know it, you’re stuck in a stop motion picture meant run at 33, but someone set the switch to 45. Conversation turns to hoots and grunts, and the smoke in the place turns into fast moving springtime clouds. And when they come around with the donation basket at 8, asking, “Hey, you staying?” Me and Baby take another sip and exit the joint. We gave at the office.

So Baby’s on the phone, and Tiny-A’s on the other end, it’s time to kick start Gannons. Little did we know, it was Friday night fish fry. We didn’t even notice. We rocked the jukebox, and rocked the table with arms in the air, fists pumping for “The Gambler”. Baby and Tiny-A were cutting up the hardwood. Tiny-A pulled out the robot, and Baby pulled out her ace in the hole. With near abandon she brought out the booty, and rocked the fish fry.

Nine at night, we’re such fucking rock stars.

Irish dance-off sandwich

2006-03-24T17:07:00.000-08:00

One night at Gannon's not too long ago...
we met an Irish guy and asked him to dance, little did he know what he was getting himself into when he accepted our offer. We had him in the middle of a sandwich of mad fury and wild agression. He was bounced back and forth between us for what seemed like seconds, but was for the duration of a song we played on the jukebox. I cannot remember his facial expression, if any, all I can recall is the look of extreme joy on Angie's face as we nearly knocked the wind out of this poor unsuspecting fellow...