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.

The LBC Represents the Best Wings

The time has come where I give a real review of a wing joint. I do enjoy ranting about everyday experiences, but I want to make sure I stay on topic at least every few posts. I feel that by now you all know what I like in a wing experience. Everything I have talked about in previous posts will be involved in the final rating of an establishment. The rating will be based on a 5 scale, 5 being the best.

Well, I’m not going to draw this out. I am going to tell you the best place in the LA area for wings so we have something to rate others against. This is a bar/restaurant in Long Beach called E.J. Malloy’s. There are two E.J. Malloy’s. One is on Atlantic a couple blocks north of Carson, and the other is on Broadway and Redondo. Each place has strengths and weaknesses. The one on Atlantic serves beer and liquor while the Broadway location only serves beer. On the flip side, the one on Broadway has slightly better wings than the one on Atlantic. In no way are the wings at the Atlantic location bad In fact, they are better than all other wing places I have visited. It’s just that the wings on Broadway are really good. It would be like the difference between Tango and Cash. Now Tango is cool and classy, but Cash is a bad ass that isn’t afraid to hook up with Tango’s sister. And Cash rocks a sick mullet. Both places are the same except for the overall wing quality/taste. They bring the wings out with ranch, so be sure to ask for bleu cheese if that’s your preference. The good thing is Malloy’s won’t charge you for extra dipping sauces like at others might. Their temperatures are mild, medium, and nuclear. If you like average heat, go with medium. I will say that nuclear is pretty hot. Sometimes it’s hard for me to finish off a pound of nuclear. Now if you have that good wing buddy with you, here’s what you do. They serve them by the pound. 1, 2, and 3 pound portions. Start with one pound of medium, and then do one pound of hot. Now if you guys think you are true bad asses, order their secret item that is not on the menu. Super nuclear. Last time I ordered this the waiter asked twice if I was sure about what I was doing. This heat made my neck sweat and my ears ring. It was pretty intense. You can’t even smell them because the nostril sting is too intense. When you are done with the wings, there is a lot of thick sauce left on your fingers, so you definitely feel satisfied. The washroom doesn’t have anything with sensors and there are lots of televisions with all types of sports.

On a scale of 5 sticky fingers, I would rate this place a 4.25. I can’t give it a 5 because that would be the all time wing joint. But this is definitely the best I have found. So if you ever find yourself in the birthplace of Snoop Dogg, or just want to make a special trip to the LBC, make sure you stop by E.J. Malloy’s. You will be thoroughly pleased that you did.

Bad Karaoke Wings - Part 2

I’m sure all of you have been waiting in angst to hear what I consider a bad karaoke wing place. Well, here you go. Dodger Stadium. I know what you’re thinking; there are no wings at Dodger Stadium. Well, where the peasants sit, they don’t serve wings. But down in the Dugout Club, where the ballers sit, they serve them. When I first sat in this area it was awesome. I was sitting a couple rows behind Tommy LaSorda and had a Blue Moon in my hand, which they don’t serve in the rest of the park. There is plenty of eye candy, the food is free, and they take your order in the stands and bring the food out to you. On hot days they have freezers full of popsicles and ice cream sandwiches. Inside they have everything from prime rib to hot dogs. They have it all. So obviously, I was blinded by the awesomeness of the Dugout Club. What I didn’t realize is that the wings were not that good. By about the third or fourth time I sat in this section, I finally realized the wings were shit. They are listed on the menu as Spicy Hot Wings. They were neither spicy nor hot. They had more of a bbq like taste to them. When I was finished eating there wasn’t even any wing residue that needed to be washed off. Once I got over the “stage presence” of Dodger Stadium, I realized that these wings were no good. Sure, they’re a good compliment when you’re sitting out in the sun, drinking a beer, and watching ManRam’s lazy ass walk to the batter’s box. But these wings aren’t even as good as Buffalo Wild Wings. And you know how I feel about that establishment.

Now I’m sure you all are wondering when I am actually going to review a place that has good wings. I will do that in the next couple of posts when I broach a few subjects that are dear to my heart. Just to give you a little taste of what’s to come, I will be talking about whether or not it’s appropriate to wear sweats in public, my views on the airport ride, and what I think of people who refer to their pet as a “rescue.” And yes, all of these subjects will be related to wings.

Bad Karaoke Wings - Part 1

So there is a bar in downtown LA called Bar 107. I think it’s the greatest bar ever. Remember how awesome you thought the bar in Coyote Ugly was when the movie first came out? That’s how awesome I think this place is. They have a great drink selection, great bartenders, great music, and most of all, a Wednesday night Gong Show karaoke. To top it all off, they have a judging panel that rivals the American Idol panel.

There are some great performances, but also some bad ones. If you are lucky enough to get through the whole song, then you will be judged by the panel and make your way to the finals at the end of the night. The alternative is sucking and getting gonged before the song is over. At that point people like to point and laugh as Bong Jovi, the show’s MC, grabs the microphone out of your hand and you walk back to your bar stool in shame. This has happened to me twice. Oh, you ask how many times I’ve made it through to be judged. 0. Yes folks, 0. All this time I thought I was a great karaoke singer. Well, I was wrong.

Now usually when I head to a bar that I know will have karaoke I have three songs in mind. Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline,” Lionel Richie’s “All Night Long,” and Eddie Murphy’s “Party All the Time.” When I walk into the bar I immediately know which song I’m singing. If it’s an all white crowd, Diamond for sure. If it’s mostly black, which tends to be the case at the Culver City dives that I like to attend, I go with Eddie Murphy. And if it’s a mix crowd, then I feel that Lionel Richie usually does the trick. After all, he has a white daughter, so you get some love from both sides. Now, when I perform these songs I kick ass. I have great stage presence and like to get the crowd involved. If the microphone is wireless, I’m getting out there and singing with every ugly chick in the bar, because that’s what the crowd loves. By the time I’m done with the song, people are giving me hi-fives and cheering. I feel like a bad ass. This did not happen at Bar 107. You know why? No wireless microphones and they have people who are not only judging stage presence, but also your voice. My voice sucks, but my ability to work the crowd helped me in the past. This fact is why I can relate some wing joints to a karaoke singer.

There are some wing places that have bad wings but an awesome atmosphere. They have every sport on TV, the waitresses are hot, and the beer is cheap. There are usually a lot of people there which adds to the camaraderie aspect of eating wings. So you leave this place feeling pretty cool. You think this place is good enough to take your buddies to and then something happens. You make the mistake of inviting a gay buddy along with the guys. Now you get there, and all of your straight buddies love the place. Your fat friend is getting tons of attention from the waitress with the big tits and obviously he thinks it’s because of his great personality, and not because she works for tips. Your jock buddy loves the fact that he can watch all the morning football games in one place. And your party buddy loves that there are $5 pitchers. But you made the mistake of inviting the one guy who sees this place for what it really is. That, my friend, is a bad karaoke singer with great stage presence. He’s there to eat wings, not watch sports and get brushed up on by fake titty white women. Unfortunately, your gay buddy can’t keep his mouth shut and has to burst your bubble. He tells you about how bad the wings are and opens your eyes to the place. But lucky for you, you’re straight and don’t give a shit about the wings and are happy to return to this crappy wing establishment.

When I think of this idea, there is one place that comes to mind. One place that advertises “Spicy Hot Wings” and doesn’t deliver, but you are blinded by the atmosphere. This post is getting a little lengthy, so I will reveal this place in the next post.

Someone Challenged My Winghood - Part 2

So I did something I never thought I would do. I ordered bleu cheese with my wings. I’m not even sure if it’s because I don’t like it, but I think I just didn’t give it a chance. My friend was right; bleu cheese complements the wing, whereas with ranch you taste too much dressing and not enough wing. The one area where my friend was wrong is the claim that ranch “is an abortion to wings.” I think that ranch is perfectly fine to dip your wing in. Sure, it may have not been the original choice when the wing recipe was invented, but I think it is a great alternative. People shouldn’t have to feel ashamed to be into ranch instead of bleu cheese. It’s the same way that some people like big chubby wings, and some like small petite wings. Some like a hotter, more spicy wing, and some like a dull boring wing. Being able to make your own decision without fear of persecution is the beauty of living in America. If I didn’t believe in that, I would just move to Canada where you don’t have the choice of ordering a hamburger without mayonnaise, or the choice of ordering fries without gravy. That’s why I am pro choice. If you want to order a dip that “is an abortion to wings,” that’s fine with me. Abort the shit out of those wings. Just don’t preach to me that one dressing should not be allowed near a wing. If that’s the case, just move to Canada and get out of the land of the free.

I’m Eric Dutton, and I’m pro choice.

(this blog in no way is associated with the views of Canadian governments)

Someone Challenged My Winghood - Part 1

So the other day I was worried because someone had questioned my winghood. This so called friend said,

I went to school inupstate NY

And consider ranch dressing an abortion to wings

Now obviously the first thing that came to mind was how many grammatical errors are in this email. I’m not trying to say that my grammar is amazing, but that is written pretty badly. Then I wondered if maybe he wrote this on his cell phone, but I didn’t noticed one of those annoying signatures that said “sent from (blank) phone,” or “sent using the Sprint network.” But maybe he changed his phone settings so it doesn’t leave the automatic signature because one time in the past he responded to his boss’ email with his blackberry while on the golf course. Then his boss thinks it’s odd that he didn’t use his computer when he is supposed to be at his desk, so his boss takes it upon himself to check his desk and make sure he didn’t leave work early. On his way to his desk he runs into Tim in accounting, and Tim rats you out for taking off early because you had a 2:30 twilight tee time at Trump International. Now, I’m out of a job and just dropped $150 on a round of golf all because Tim in accounting doesn’t know how to help a brother out and tell a white lie. Thanks Tim. Not saying that this scenario has happened to anyone, but let’s just assume that this friend who sent the email was using his smart phone and no longer has the automatic signature.

The second thing that came to mind is how cocky this friend is. He assumes that he is part of an elitist society that governs the way hot wings should be eaten because he went to school in upstate New York. This is based on the idea that Hot Wings originated in upstate New York. But I’ve lived in California for 5 years, and that doesn’t mean I gained the ability to drive like an asshole.

Then I started to think about it. Maybe if you live in upstate New York for a few years you do become the Kelly Slater of hot wing connoisseurship and can make statements like, “ranch is an abortion to wings.” I definitely have gained the ability to drive like an asshole in the five years I have lived in California. If he is part of this society of champions, then I feel ashamed because I eat my wings with ranch. Has my whole experience with hot wings been tainted because I have been eating my wings with ranch? Is bleu cheese the only acceptable dressing to accompany the hot wing? Was I missing out on some sexual explosion in my mouth that is created when the hot wing, bleu cheese, and taste buds connect for the first time? I replied to my friend’s email and asked him what he bases this theory on. He said,

You shouldn’t be allowed near a wing with ranch dressing.

The formulas was developed and perfected with blue cheese.  Ranch dressing is too earthy and too mild to balance out the spice of a wing…and too drippy..you need a firm blue cheese to really adhere to the wing…it’s a dip..Not a sauce.

Once again, let’s assume this was sent from his smart phone and excuse the grammatical errors. When you read this statement, it kind of makes sense. I especially like how he says “ranch dressing is too earthy.” Not really sure what that is supposed to mean. I don’t know, maybe it’s something that people from Long Island say. Or maybe I’m just not as cultured as he is.

Needless to say, he makes a good point. So I’ve decided to make a trip to Big Wangs, in downtown LA, and test this theory. I am picking Big Wangs because it has a good wing, and I need a constant to test against both ranch and blue cheese. Also, it’s only a few blocks from my place. Tonight I will take meticulous notes of the new experience and come up with a conclusion of my own. Expect part two of this blog tomorrow.