Taste of Lindsay Heights Opening
Week after week, these Ups and Downs are full of restaurant closings, so I gotta say it’s nice to see one that’s an opening. Walnut Way, a nonprofit, is opening Taste of Lindsay Heights Cafe on Saturday at 1617 W. North Ave. The takeout spot, which incorporates multiple businesses, is going to be serving up smoothies, spring rolls, rum cakes and plenty more.
Machine Gun Kelly Does Some Stuff
The rapper/punk rocker Machine Gun Kelly was performing at The Rave this week, when he went up to the boxes on the second floor and walked along the railings. I don’t really care about that. I’m interested in this for two reasons:
- It produced this beautiful headline from the Journal Sentinel: ‘Machine Gun Kelly pulls off death-defying stunt, and gets high and drunk, at sold-out Milwaukee show.’
- Kelly is dating Megan Fox, who was the female lead in the 2007 Michael Bay film Transformers, which is a great movie that I will use this opportunity to defend vehemently against my better instincts. The movies that came after it are very bad, but I’ve seen the original at least a dozen times, and I don’t care what anyone thinks about it – it’s great. There’s Tarkovsky, there’s Bergman and there’s the Transformers movie. Shia LeBeouf sweating profusely and yelling, ‘No’ for an hour and a half? John Turturro being urinated on by a robot? Steve Jablonsky’s awesome “Arrival to Earth” score? Cinema at its finest.
Facebook Went Down
On Monday, Facebook went down for six hours. So did Instagram. It was like 1995 over here (or as I call it 1 B.A.). Honestly, it was pretty nice. The allure of the internet waned, even if only for a few hours, and in that time, I decided to go outside and feel the sunlight on my skin, smell the fresh autumnal air, gaze at the majestic sky. And then a bird pooped on me, so I went back inside and played video games.
Free Boat on the Highway
In Washington County this week, some guy spray painted “Free” on a boat and left it on the side of Highway 33. The Wisconsin State Patrol had to deal with it, and they posted a photo to Facebook with the caption: “Disclaimer – this is not the proper method for disposing a boat.”
This story is great – not because it’s kind of funny, but because it gives me the opportunity to correct peoples’ grammar. Ahem, excuse me officers, the correct form of this sentence should read “disposing of a boat.” Thank you. Correcting grammar may not make you popular, but it does provide a smug sense of superiority that can’t be beat. I’m going to go eat soup alone now.
A Tragic Waste of Good Brews
When I was a kid, people used to say that this world was a good place. That there were good people who cared. That life had meaning. All lies. What kind of cruel world is this, where a truck full of Leinenkugel’s beers just rolls over on I-94 and spills thousands of cans across the side of the highway. “Total loss of cargo?” More like, “Total loss of hope.” The scope of this disaster is painful to behold. Do you know how much beer was wasted on that day? Enough to make me attracted to my wife again.
Dick Leinenkugel tweeted about the accident: “We will get busy brewing an additional replacement brew and apologize for any shortages in the interim.” Well, Dick, maybe you will have an additional replacement brew soon, but you can never rebrew my broken heart.
Invasive Carp DNA in the Milwaukee River
The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and other officials, found invasive carp DNA in the Milwaukee River for the second time. That doesn’t mean for certain that carp are there, but it does increase the possibility, and this has people worried. Those carp are big ol’ destructive fish that eat all the food and lead to native fish species dying off and water quality dropping. Man, the last time I saw people this scared about DNA was my last paternity hearing.
Foxconn is Cheating on Us With Ohio
After a hard day at the state factory, Wisconsin gets on the train and heads home for some much-needed rest.
“I’m tired of everyone thinking all I can do is cheese and beer,” he says to New Jersey, sitting across from him. “I love cheese and beer, of course, but you know, I have art and culture too, right?”
“The !$#% you complain’ to me for?” New Jersey says. “Every #$%@!%$ Sopranos-watching @$$%$#@ looks at me, thinks I’m full of fat, sweaty $%^#!@$ mobsters. I’d take #$%$#@# cheese and beer over that $#!% any #!%^@$! day of the week.”
Wisconsin, somewhat offended by New Jersey’s smell, finds an excuse to slip into the next train car, and gets off at the next stop. He walks the few blocks to his house, desperately looking forward to kicking off his shoes for the day.
When he arrives, he unlocks the back door and heads inside. There’s a sound from the bedroom. Voices. He stops.
“Foxy-poo?” he says. “Sweetheart?”
The noise stops. There’s a rustling, a creak. He starts to walk to the living room, when Foxconn comes running down the hall, pulling a sweater over her shoulders.
“Oh, hey, my badger baby,” she says, rushing at him and pulling him into a sudden, tight hug. “I didn’t know you’d be home so soon.”
“Boss says my cranberry production has been record-breaking,” Wisconsin says. “Let me off early as a reward.”
“That’s amazing,” she says, holding him.
Wisconsin tries to pull away. “I thought I heard something. Would you let me go?”
Foxconn only hugs him tighter. He tries to pry her arms off him.
A crash from the bedroom.
“Ok, what the hell was that?” Wisconsin says.
He ducks away from Foxconn and runs down the hall. Around the corner, he bursts into the bedroom and sees a half-dressed man struggling to pull his pants on and crawl out of the window at the same time. Wisconsin’s shelf full of vintage Packers memorabilia is knocked onto the ground, trading cards and signed helmets strewn across the floor.
The nearly naked man looks over his shoulder, eyes wide.
“Ohio?” Wisconsin says.
The man takes a slow step away from the window and quickly buttons his pants. “Oh. Hi. Oh, well, this is awkward.”
“What are you…” Wisconsin turns around to see Foxconn standing in the hall behind him, her eyes to the floor.
“It isn’t what you think?” she says.
“It isn’t?” Wisconsin yells. “Well, then what is it?”
“We were just exploring options to improve Foxconn’s global strategy,” Ohio says.
“Dairy Darling, you have to believe me,” Foxconn says. “You’re still my special data infrastructure hardware and information and communication technology production location.”
“Don’t you ‘Dairy Darling’ me,” Wisconsin yells. “You said you were going to make electric cars in Mount Pleasant.”
“Well, someday maybe. And you don’t have that in writing. But for now … Ohio just has something you don’t.”
Wisconsin turns back to Ohio, a rageful fire in his eyes. Before Wisconsin can make his move, Ohio leaps out the window. Wisconsin rushes forward, screaming at the fleeing state. “Cleveland sucks!”
When he turns back around, Foxconn is standing in the doorway.
“I redid my highways for you,” he says, his voice shaking. “One lane traffic for months. How could you do this to me?”
She has no response.
Wisconsin holds back tears, as he walks past her to the kitchen and cracks open a bottle of brandy.