I Can't Go For That (No Can Do)

Hello, friends. It’s a great day in southern California, the azaleas are in bloom, and it’s time for a tradition unlike any other. Yes, a new post from Eddie the Wingman. I know it’s been a while since my last post and instead of making an excuse as to why I have been away for so long, there’s really no point. I’ve just been lazy.

I hope everyone had a great holiday, and for my northern readers, Happy Canada Day. I had a pretty good fourth that ended up raising a question for this blog. What can’t Daryl Hall go for?

I went and saw Hall and Oates at the Hollywood Bowl, and when the great duo played “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do),” it really made me think. What can’t he go for? Let’s take a look at this song.

Side note: how ‘bout those keys in the first minute. If Hall came to my place and started jamming a rif like that, I think I would go for anything. How could you not?

Anyway, throughout the song, Daryl Hall, or as I like to call him, DH, states he “can’t go for that” 41 times. First thing that comes to mind is why did I waste my time in college drinking to “Roxanne” when I could have been drinking to “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do).” Second, some chick really scarred him. Here’s what he has to say,

When does it stop, where do you dare me to draw the line

You got my body now you want my soul

Don’t even think about it say no go

Now I’ll do anything you want me to

I’ll do almost anything that you want me to

But I can’t go for that

No can do.

There is only one conclusion to reach when reading those lyrics. DH was making love to someone he met back stage (Yes, making love, because DH doesn’t have sex. He’s very spiritual like that), and right before blowin’ his stuff all over her, this girl drops a digit on him. She dared him to draw the line right before taking his soul. DH is fine with doing a lot of things, in fact, almost anything. But he just can’t go for a digit in the butt…clearly. So the next time some crazy bitch tries to drop a digit on you, just refer to DH, and tell her, “I can’t go for that, no can do.” And then tell people what a bad lay she is so it doesn’t happen to anyone else.

I Am Dominic Toretto

Sometimes I feel like I'm Dominic Toretto. You know that scene, in Fast and Furious where he smells the yellow dust at Letty's crash site and can tell the whole story of what went down? I taste wing sauce left on a table and then can see the wing session that just occured.

Stickers Are Awesome

One of my loyal readers sent me this picture. Notice the jizz stain that looks like the state of Hawaii? Hang Loose. That's pretty cool too. About as cool and current as a Ron Jon Surf Shop sticker.

Farts Are Awesome

Alright people. First of all, I apologize about the large break between posts. I was living it up in Austin, Massachusetts, and didn’t find the time to do a new post. I will post something Austin related in the near future. Second of all, I think your opinion of me may change after this post.

I have come up with a new theory that all wings eaters like the smell of their own farts. Think about it, I guarantee that you have been lying in bed, watching TV, and you let a nice warm, silent fart go. No one is around to witness this, but you decide that it’s your duty to lift the covers a tad and get a whiff of that fart. I am not ashamed of myself, so I will admit that I have done this before. I relate this directly to smelling a batch of super nuclear wings before I eat them. I know that it’s going to sting my nostrils, but I decide to do it anyway because I want to see how deadly they are. Just like with the farts.

Now, it’s not like I have a fetish for farts or something. I have no interest in smelling anyone else’s farts, and I think that’s disgusting. But I will smell my own fart, and I will get a sense of pride if it’s a good one. So, the next time you’re getting wings and your date smells the wing order, just know that they also like to smell their own farts.

I Have a Theory...

I have to quickly share something and if you guys agree with me. Please leave a comment and let me know whether or not you feel the same way.

So I was at Big Wang’s yesterday getting ready to chow down on a Lil’ Wang order of Hot Buffalo. It had started out as a great day watching college hoops and enjoying some wings with a few cold beverages. Then all of a sudden one of the TVs was changed to CNN. There are about 20 flat screens at Big Wang’s, so normally it wouldn’t be a big deal, except for the one TV that was changed to the news was the TV directly in front of me. I don’t like having to look to the right or left to watch TV, so most of my attention was on CNN. They changed the channel right when we launched missiles into Lybia, so it was somewhat interesting. Then all of a sudden they flashed a picture of Muammar Qadaffi and I had an epiphany. I realized how to figure out if a foreign leader is good or evil. The answer is whether or not they always wear sunglasses. I’m not sure why, but for some reason they are always rocking some glasses that you would see that beast of a woman, Khloe Kardashian, wearing at a Lakers game. In America, our high ranking Generals receive stars. Maybe the leaders of our foreign enemies receive a new pair of aviators whenever they move up in the ranks. I don’t know…it’s just a theory.

The Letter, B

I would have to say that moving to LA has totally fucked up my thoughts on restaurants. It has nothing to do with poor tasting food, bad service, or crowds. It is because of the Department of Health, and the grades they give to every restaurant in town. I’m not sure if they only do this in LA County, or if it just started at the same time I moved out here, but restaurants here are given letter grades. They either give an A, or a B. There is only one place I have been to where I saw a C. The restaurants have to display this letter grade in plain view of the customer. If a restaurant gets a B, there is a check off list that shows the areas that need improvement. One of these areas might be kitchen cleanliness. Now that might be something as simple as cleaning the grease trap everyday. But in my mind it means that the kitchen floor is tattooed in rat shit and the paunchy Mexican working the grill just lost a finger nail in the enchilada sauce. I’m sure this is not what happens and a restaurant would probably be shut down for that reason, but that’s what I think when I see a B. I have been to sushi joints where I finish my meal and thought it was the best sushi ever. Then I walk out the door, notice it has a B, and want to pull a Justine Bateman in the nearest public restroom. For those of you who don’t know, Justine Bateman was famous for three things; being the hot sister on family ties, overshadowing Jason Bateman (pre 2004), and bulimia. Now I know people who knew me before 2005 are saying to themselves, “oh, he’s sooo LA.” First of all, that statement is ridiculous and is only said by people who don’t live in LA and wished they live here. Second, you try eating at a place that you know in one way or another failed a health inspection. You’ll never be able to get that vision of rat shit out of your head. And if you never had a problem with that before, I hope that reading this has scarred you for life.

The one place I have been to that had a C is a bar called Trip, in Santa Monica. I might have the name wrong because it has changed ownership about 4 times since I’ve lived in the LA area. This place had a C inside the bar, and the only food they served was cooked on a hot plate. I really don’t understand how that happens but you have to do something horrible in order to get a C. Maybe there were rat turds that were clogging the keg lines. Whatever it may be, I have only ordered bottled beer after I saw their grade.

So if you’re checking out a new wing place and you notice it has a B, I would think twice before eating there. Either that, or get really drunk before you go so everything tastes good.

***on a side note, I’m not sure what it is with rat shit, but for some reason I used that a lot in this post.

Free Parking and an "A"

The Hot Wing Café has two things I love in a wing joint. Those two things are free parking and an “A” in the window. I’m not sure if the Board of Health gives grades in areas other than LA, but it has a lot to do with whether or not I visit an establishment for the second time. I will get into health grading in a later post, but right now it’s time to focus on The Hot Wing Café.

I would recommend checking out the Hot Wing Café. It’s clean, they have flat screens, and they have a good assortment of beer. One thing I really remember about this place is that they have crunchy ice. Not crushed ice, but crunchy ice. The stuff that’s like little pebbles that used to come out of the old fountain drink vending machine. You know, the ones where you would pick your soda, the cup would drop down, and then automatically fill. Crunchy ice is awesome. And they have extra wide straws so the crunchy ice gets sucked through.

Their wings are good. They have good meatiness and a good size to them. The sauce is tangy and flavorful. If you like some heat, the “extra hot” is what you should start with because “hot” only has a mild heat index. The Hot Wing Cafe serves individual sauces, which you know as while as I do is a plus. The one thing I didn’t like was they didn’t have plates. I like to have a discard plate so I have somewhere to stack the bones. Here, they just bring the wings out in a fry basket.

One notable thing about this place is they have knife graffiti on the toilet seat. I always feel like knife graffiti adds some culture to the place. I give this place 3.50 sticky fingers. So if you find yourself in the West Hollywood/Hollywood area, check out The Hot Wing Café. You won’t be disappointed.

Chicken God

A loyal reader sent in this pic that she made.

Car Window Stickers

I was on my way to Big Wang’s to get some hot wings and cheesy bread, and I saw something that has bothered me for some time. There was a mini van with stickers on the back window. Each sticker was a silhouette of a family member with their name underneath the sticker. I would like to know if people do this in other parts of the country or if it’s just a California thing? I started noticing these stickers when I moved to LA and wasn’t sure if the timing coincided with my move, or if it’s just something people do in this part of the country.

You might as well put a sticker on the back window that reads, “Hey, all you kidnappers and peder-asses out there. Let me make it easier for you to make my child a victim.” Because that’s all you’re doing. Let me put a silhouette of a child on the back of my car and put his/her name underneath it so every weirdo in the world knows what my kid’s name is. Makes it a lot easier for some guy to see who my kid is, walk up to them, and say, “Hi, Johnny, I’m friends with your mom, Rebecca.” And yes, this weirdo does know what your name is because there is a silhouette of a woman on the back window that says “Rebecca.” Are people retarded? I can’t be the only person who has thought of this.

Now let’s assume that you are not trying to invite harm with these stickers. Why do you have them? Do you think it makes your van look cute? Do you think that people will see you pull up to soccer practice in your Honda Odyssey wearing your new outfit from Forever 21, with your family on the back window, and think that you’re an awesome mom? Maybe you don’t think that, which is why you decide get the more hip silhouette where every figure is wearing a luau skirt, like you just got off the fucking plane from Hawaii. “Yeah, that will make me a cool mom.”

What about the people who put a sticker of Hawaii on their cars. What makes Hawaii better than every other state where they deserve to put a sticker on their back window? It looks like Paul Bunyon came by and shot a load across the rear window of your car.

Don’t get me started on people who have a sticker of Calvin pissing on a Ford logo. I mean, fuck, let me just drive out to the 909, buy a set of truck balls, a case of Rock Star, and some Affliction gear, and head to the X Games. That would make me really awesome. I bet that’s what Sal Masekela did when he was hired to do coverage for ESPN 2. For those of you reading this that don’t live in Southern California, do yourselves a favor and Google “The 909.” First thing that comes up is the urban dictionary’s definition, which reads, “The area code in Southern California for Riverside and San Bernardino County; usually associated with white trash.” There are lots more on the internet regarding the 909, which could be a whole blog in its own. (Hmmm, maybe I should start that)

Anyway, there aren’t many stickers that look good on your car. So just don’t buy them. I know when you’re at the check out line at REI your thinking, “man, that HB sticker would look sweet on my Jetta.” Guess what, it won’t. So leave the stickers to soccer moms trying to act hip, douchey Hawaiians, and Juggalo’s. And if you don’t know what a Juggalo is, Google that shit too. They’re a whole different type of fuck tards.

The Rescue Wing

You know, I was thinking the other day that to make up for all the chickens that have been slain in order to provide my pallet with delicious wings, that maybe I should give back to the chicken community. I think I’m going to rescue a chicken. And I don’t mean go to some chicken pound, and fill out papers to adopt it. I mean kick down the barn door at some farm, wrestle the gun out of a farmer’s hand, pistol whip him, and take off running with the chicken. Because that my friends, is how to rescue something.

I think I’m going to get a lot of negative feedback on this post, but like always, I have to preach my own opinion. I am somewhat bothered with the term “rescue,” and think it’s being used too loosely. I feel like this is something that has gained popularity in the last five years. When I was a kid and someone asked you where you got your pet, you would say, “we bought it,” or “we adopted it from the pound.” I don’t think I ever heard, “oh, it’s a rescue,” until around 2006. I think this coincided with the time it started becoming cool to save the planet. This is the same time when the entertainment community started trading in their Benz’s and Bimmer’s for Prius’ and Civic’s. My thoughts are if someone wants to buy a pet, that’s their choice. If someone wants to adopt a pet, that’s great too. But I don’t need people on their high horse telling me how they rescued an animal. You didn’t rescue the animal. You didn’t barge into the killing room of a pound while a poor little puppy was in some vet assistant’s hands about to be stuck with a needle. If you did, that’s fucking awesome, and you should tell everyone that you rescued your animal. It would probably guarantee that you get laid. But unless you did that, or went into a burning building to save your animal, or pulled your animal out of a flood, don’t tell me that you “rescued it.” Nowadays, many pounds don’t even euthanize unless there is a health problem with the animal. If you got a pet from a place that does euthanize, that pet probably still would have been adopted. Let’s face it; there aren’t many people who choose an ugly pet, so whatever cute little pet came home with you probably would have been adopted even if you weren’t the one who did it. So maybe we should change the term to “oh, I rescued it because it’s ugly and surely would have been put down if I didn’t do something.” I think I can allow that.

So if you saved your animal from the clutches of a vet assistant when it was about to be euthanized, rescue it from a burning building, pulled it out of a flood, or is ugly. Then you’re allowed to call it a rescue. Otherwise, let’s stick to the facts and quit acting like Mother Theresa. Your pet is adopted.

Are Sweat Pants Appropriate In Public?

“Are sweats appropriate attire in public?” More often than not, I wear sweats to a wing session. I think it’s because of the elasticity, and the fact that I don’t care if wing sauce or wing dip get on my sweats. If you insist on wearing sweats in public, I recommend sticking to these criteria. First, make sure they have a logo on them, to signify some sort of fashion. I rock Puma sweats, but Addidas or Nike also work. Second, make sure they don’t have elastic ankles. These are the sweats that are baggy throughout the leg and tight at the bottom. Very douchey. Third, make sure they have pockets. I think if they are made with pockets then that tells me they are made to be worn in public. As long as you stick to these three things, you will be good to go.

Afterthought:

Let’s examine this. I’m writing in Starbucks at 9:30 in the morning wearing sweats. Everyone around me is in a suit and tie with blackberry’s in hand. Do I feel out of place? Yes. Do I care? No. Why is it that people go to Starbucks to do work. I could do the same thing in my apartment and just make a cup of coffee. I would probably save myself about $15 a day if I did this. So why is Starbucks so much better? Because of the people watching. I can come here and see people from different walks of life. While the Pac 10 basketball tournament was going on, not only did I get to see L.A. people, but also red necks from Washington and Oregon, nerds from Cal, and douchey jersey shore types who tend to congregate in Phoenix and Tucson (these are the people who think that Rehab at the Hard Rock is still the place to be). Then I look at myself. What do people think of me, sweat pants guy? They probably look at me the same way I look at them. Being the bottom of the barrel for people in a given area. So maybe we can just conclude that Starbucks is a congregation for people who are fashionable rejects. But if it means me being comfortable while being “at work,” then I’m fine with that.

Proper Wing Consumption

One of my readers stresses upon what a wing should look like when finished. If there was ever a wing book, he would write the chapter on the proper way of eating a wing. He went to EJ Malloys, which has been reviewed as the best wing place in LA, and took a before and after picture of the wings. The way they look post wing session is what you need to focus on. The after picture was sent with this quote,

"Oops. I got a little bone in that bite. Just a normal hazard of a good wing session."

Everyone take note. You can learn something from this reader. Check out the before and after pics below.

***note: they are on different plates because the reader forgot to take an after pic at Malloy's. Luckily for us, the wings are so good at Malloy's that he took an order to go. He ate a few when he got home so we could get an after pic.

Dyson Airblade

This was sent to me from a loyal reader. The Dyson Airblade. A revolution in the hand drying excperience. This man is a genius.

Wing Etiquette in a Group Setting

So, I have a request to do a post regarding wing consumption in a group setting. I appreciate the feedback and encourage you guys to make suggestions for anything you would like addressed.

First things first, make sure you get a heat index that everyone agrees upon. It’s no fun going out for wings and having someone not eat because the wings are too hot for them. Second, I like to have an individual sauce. I’m definitely a double dipper, and I don’t like having to dump sauce on my discard plate in order to be courteous to others. I personally could care less if someone double dipped, but some people get pissy if you do so. These are the same people who get pee shy and insist on taking over the whole urinal trough because they feel like someone is going to touch their junk while pissing. The third thing is to make sure you suck the bone dry. No one likes someone who leaves gristle on the bone. Other than that, feel free to crush some wings. Don’t worry about looking like a pig while chowing down on some tasty wings. Let’s face it, you didn’t go to some high class hoity toity place to eat lunch, you went to a wing joint. Everything is acceptable. Finger licking, double dipping, sauce around the mouth, sauce on the shirt; it’s all good. Also, you are out with buddies. It’s not like you’re going on a business lunch to a wing joint (although I have done that before). So feel free to go out and let your freak flag fly. You’re with friends, don’t feel ashamed if you’re a finger licker or, like one of my friends in particular, tend to spill whatever you eat on your shirt. Oh, and make sure you eat more than your friends.

Alondra Hot Wings

This is what happens when you try and eat an Atomic wing from Alondra Hot Wings(review soon to follow)

The Airport Ride

I was just scheduling a wing date with a friend of mine and he asked if I could pick him up. I figured, sure, no problem. It’s not like I had to go get him in the middle of rush hour. It was on a Saturday afternoon. Probably the best time to be on the road. As I was driving over to his house I was thinking how the only ride I am opposed to giving is the Airport Ride.

The Airport Ride may be the worst thing someone can ask for. It is always at some obnoxious time. People assume that being taken to the airport at 5am or during post work traffic is cool. Or maybe they decide to get back into town at 11:00pm on a Saturday, just in time to fuck up your plans for the night. Not only do they think it’s cool, but they assume it is expected in return for their friendship. You know what; if people insist on asking for an airport ride then they need to plan their trip around my schedule. Not try and get the bargain basement fare that saves them $30 but means that they leave at the ass crack of dawn. If you want to get that bargain basement price then use the money you save to park your car in the $10/day lot, or spring $30 for a cab. Getting to the airport is part of your trip, so figure that shit out before you ask me the day before your flight to give you a ride. I have driven people 5 hours to pick up a motorcycle because I’m the only one who has a truck. I am more likely to do this than I am to agree to an airport ride. Half the time, your flight changes and you’re calling me asking if I can come get you an hour later because your flight is delayed. Nope. Your ass can wait at the Chili’s bar in terminal 6 while you wait for the plane. All I’m saying is if you decide to drop a grand on airfare and hotel to go to Miami Beach for the week, factor in the $60 it will cost to get to and from the airport. It’s a cost affiliated with travelling. Work it into your budget you cheap bastards.

The Ugly Wing

What’s going on people? So I’m hoping that you’re enjoying the blog so far. I know sometimes I can be a little extreme and you may not agree with some of my thoughts, but if that’s the case, please, leave a comment so I know how to steer these things. One question that has been posed is why I don’t review places during every post. The main reason is because there are only so many wing joints in LA County, and so far I have gone to 20 of them. I do not want to run out of places I can review too quickly. Also, I think it will be easier to understand how I come up with my ratings if you know how I think. Well class, that being said, on to the next subject.

I like to think that I’m not the only person who feels this way. I hate it when a batch of wings comes out and one of them is ugly. And when I say ugly, I mean fucked up looking. Like the particular chicken was bred in Chernobyl. You know what I’m talking about, the wing that has nubs on it and looks like the elephant man. When the waitress puts the plate on the table, you can definitely see the look of disappointment on my face if one of them is a Chernobyl wing. If I had an ugly baby, this would be the same look I’d have once it pops out. So my question is…is an ugly wing the same as an ugly baby?

I feel like there are a few that need to be discussed in order to come to a conclusion.

First of all, what is the probability of getting a Chernobyl wing? Is it the same probability of having an ugly baby? I don’t think the probability can be the same because ugly wings probably depend on the butcher, where ugly babies depend on the parents.

Secondly, is the popularity factor the same for ugly wings and ugly babies? Ugly babies grow into ugly kids. And we all know that little ugly Johnny is not going to be picked first in kickball. No, he will be picked last. In similarity, when I eat wings, I steer clear of that ugly wing until the very end. In fact, I try and eat my half of the wings faster than my wing date so he ends up getting stuck with the retarded wing.

Next, a cook has the choice of throwing away an ugly wing. He never does this, which is why you end up getting stuck with the ugly wing, but he could if he wanted to. The doctor doesn’t have the option to throw the baby away once it pops out. But that raises a good question. Would a doctor throw an ugly baby away if there were no repercussions? Is that how dumpster babies come about? Are they just rejected ugly babies? Hmmmm? And this marks the point where I lose any support of this blog that I once had.

Moving on. I guess the only similarity an ugly wing has with an ugly baby is the popularity factor. So no, an ugly wing is not the same as an ugly baby. I guess what I’m trying to get at is I don’t want to see an ugly wing and I don’t want it on my plate. I pretty much want to forget that ugly wings exist. I feel the same way about ugly babies. One person told me that ugly babies usually grow into their looks, whatever that means. I think she probably just has an ugly baby and doesn’t want to admit it. But what I’m getting at is that I don’t want to know they exist. I realize that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but come on, you know when you have an ugly baby. So for all of you ugly baby parents out there, do me a favor and stop with the ugly baby picture posts that you are putting up on your Facebook wall. If you want to share the pics with people, upload them into an album so they don’t pop up on my news feed.

Thank you. Please direct all hate to the comments field.

Hooters Is No Longer Relevant

What happened to Hooters? I’m not saying that they ever had good wings, but there was a time when Hooters was the place to go. If there was a big game on, you’d go to Hooters. Happy hour after work, let’s go to Hooters. Visiting a new city, gotta get to Hooters to buy a new shirt. Remember when it was cool to sport your Daytona Beach Hooters shirt? I used to look at that person and think, “wow, that guy is well travelled.” Not anymore. Hooters shirts are almost as unfashionable as Ed Hardy shirts.

When I was younger, my friend’s cousin worked at Hooters and drove an IROC with t-tops. I thought she was the baddest chick ever. If I met someone like that now, I would think they’re the trashiest chick ever. At one point you had to look good to work at Hooters. In college, I had a classmate who worked at Hooters. She was 4’10” and was busted, in both meanings of the word. Her double d’s were probably the only reason she got the job. She kind of looks like Snooki. Those looks were not acceptable at the Hooters of yesterday.

Maybe if Hooters focused on their wings they might still be relevant. Their wings are horrible. They taste bland and don’t have good heat. And why do they look so fucked up? Were these chickens killed while taking flight? Why is the wing in the shape of a ‘V’? The Hooters wing looks like something a nerd designed for Lamar’s limp wristed throwing style.

As much as I hate the wings at Hooters, I’m kind of sad that it doesn’t have the allure it once did. Hooters is an example of why the terrorists hate us. Anyone who figures out a way to exploit women and have it be socially acceptable is alright in my book. That is the only reason I like Hooters. And when I go there, I make sure not to order the wings because they are dog shit.