A F T E R N O O N

 

 

Noon "Don't ask for silverware, don't ask for nothin."

Regulars will note with great appreciation the return of Chef Bruce, fresh from juvenile detention, checking wind direction and jump-starting the grill with a splash of gasoline. Then it's an industrial barbecue, in the classic bromberg style. (anyone from last year will remember the 80lb beef/lamb shish-kebob held together with barbed wire and C-clamps, that was wildly delicious) . Grab a fresh brew from one of the brooklyn brewery kegs out back, and catch the last game of the '55 world series - the last time brooklyn won it all -- on the small screens throughout the festival.

Quality vs. Quantity: Rain Dogs

 

1:00pm Huddle a doorway

Art lives. Art breathes. Art screams at you and pulls your hair and demands that you fork over a couple of dimes. And it's your art we'll be showing at the TW have-you-own art opening! We supply the wall space, cheap white wine, and the miserable hors d'oeuvres. You supply paintings, sculptures, installations and etchings. This year's special is office art! You know, the under-appreciated paperclip, photocopier, and rubberband art you have to hide from your boss. The La Galleria 401 K-Plan will feature the office art you've been making during all those pointless "strategy" meetings. And if you didn't bring any art, don't worry. We've got all the fixins for old-fashioned, sofa-sized family Heirlooms.

Behind the velvet ropes: One from the Heart

3:00pm "it's just a dimestore novel."

Sometimes that quiet corner is the best spot to be. Ted brews up some serious coffee on the Bunn 6-burner and breaks out his collection of true crime paperbacks for your reading pleasure. For double the pleasure, it's guest host coffee-pourin' hour, when whoever feels like doing it the most will get to circulate with a fistfull of coffeepots and the undeniable star power of being the tw8 guest host!

Reading room: Foreign Affairs

4:00 Carnage at Dead Battery Speedway

It's the most waitsian form of racing: going downhill under the power of your own inertia, but with style and the ambition of reaching bottom the fastest. Unnecessarily reckless, peerlessly stupid, astonishingly simple-minded, it's go-cartalounger racing (like the soapbox kind), the second of many opportunities for injury, destruction and reflexive wagering.

headlong: heartattack & Vine

 

5:00pm Murder in the Red Barn

It's the only time SPAM is allowed in the living room: a SPAM carving contest! After an absence of many years, the screams of squealing SPAM cans fill the air, and the smell of Art seeps through the upholstery as sculpters mold "edible" creations for the adulation and nausea of their peers. Will any Rodins de cochon render anything like SPAM-henge, or SPAM Unplugged? Match wits with the crème de la SPAM. The tension is palpable, and the pork Shoulder quite tasty.

Slaughterhouse Joe: Bone Machine Small Change.

 

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