Get To Know Flatulator: Dinner Parties

June 22, 2011

I hate dinner parties.

A dinner party is a gathering of at least four adults. They meet at someone’s home for a pleasant evening of drinks, dinner and delightful conversation. This sounds lovely, but in reality it’s a horrifically dull evening that is quietly suffered through in service of the tragedy that is mistaking boredom for maturity.

The first problem is that the word ‘party’ is included in the name. This is a problem because no one gets drunk at these events. When the word party is used in conjunction with adults congregating, it should mean that everyone at said party will be getting shitrocked. Instead, these ‘parties’ involve people sipping shitty white wine, talking about work, eating a dinner that usually revolves around salmon, sipping more white wine, playing Pictionary and then going home at 9:45 because they need to pay the babysitter.

The worst of these events feature men in polo shirts emblazoned with company logos tucked into khaki shorts, women engaged in deep discussions of The Real Housewives, lawn care tips and promises to schedule future golf outings.

If you are invited to a dinner party, think about why you would want to attend. Would it make things easier for you at work? Do you fear appearing anti-social? Are you stuck in a boring rut that has relegated genuine fun to the distant past? During the next dinner party you attend, free yourself from the chains of boredom by claiming that the shitty salmon gave you food poisoning, and run to the nearest bar. You’re welcome.


Chicago Pizza: My Top 3

June 17, 2011


Yum, look at this good shit!

It's on a cookie sheet, son

Welcome to Diarrhea Village, population you

Piece is my favorite pizza in Chicago, and may be the best pizza I’ve ever had, although I have eaten a lot of pizza while drunk off my ass, so who knows.

Piece is located in Wicker Park, which would be easy to get to if the traffic wasn’t so goddamn horrific much of the time. It can be hard to find parking, so the Damen Blue Line stop might be a better option. This restaurant does not take reservations for parties of less than 10 people, so you will need to plan your arrival time carefully. I don’t even bother going to this place on Friday and Saturday nights. Piece fills up quickly, and a 2 hour wait is not uncommon. To truly appreciate Piece on your first visit, it’s a good idea to go for lunch when you can move around without tripping over a fatass or some mustachioed pole-smoker in skinny jeans.

Piece also contains a great brewery; the beers have won many national awards. My favorite beer is the Camel Toe Egyptian Pale Ale, which, at 10% ABV, will help you forget what a fat fuck you’re becoming by inhaling seven slices of pizza.

Piece only delivers to the Loop with a minimum order of 10 pizzas; an offer meant to appeal to businesses. My cheap-fuck boss would rather get rectal cancer than spring for this sweet deal, so I can only imagine how delightful it is to have Piece delivery to take one’s mind off of a soul-crushing work environment where the only relief is found while jerking off in the handicapped stall.

You can tell Piece knows what they’re doing based on their menu. It is small and simple, meant to showcase what they do best. There are not many non-pizza items on the item, but the Cesar salad is excellent. It easily contains enough for two people, and it will help force the pizza BM out of your ruby starfruit once it is finally fully digested three days after being consumed.

There is also live band karaoke on Saturdays, but I would rather go down on my mom than suffer through that for 45 seconds.


It's not burned, it's caramelized

This place is fairly close to Piece, but the pizza is very different. I am not a huge fan of deep-dish in general, but Pequod’s has a very unique and delicious spin on this colon-clogging Chicago stereotype. The crust is caramelized and extremely flavorful, but, like all deep-dish, eating more than two pieces will give you gas that smells like the suffering of the Holocaust.

Pequod’s thin crust is also superb. It is actually slightly thicker than what is normally considered thin crust, but that does not detract from the flavor. Try ground beef instead of sausage – amazing.

In terms of non-pizza offerings, the cheesy garlic bread and house salad (with Italian dressing) are great. I would skip the appetizers when ordering deep-dish, unless you want to birth a brown bowling pin.

My main complaint about Pequod’s is that the beer selection sucks nutsack. There are the usual shitty brands, one Goose Island seasonal, one Sam Adams seasonal, and , if you’re lucky, a Half Acre selection. An establishment with such excellent food should really step it up and get some more interesting options in rotation. If you’re having trouble deciding between Piece and Pequod’s, the exquisite beer at Piece may be the deciding factor. Piece’s website is like a Da Vinci creation compared to the abortion Pequod’s has vomited onto the web, so that’s another thumbs up for the geniuses at Piece.

Sadly, Pequod’s owner’s daughter died from a rare form of cancer, and a foundation has been set up in her name. There are pictures of the daughter and descriptions of the foundation placed throughout the restaurant.  This is wonderful, and the fact that I did not get too sad is a testament to the quality of Pequod’s offerings. Normally a downer like this would prevent me from eating that ninth slice and cause me to get shitrocked on Jameson even faster than normal, but I powered through and got diarrhea that looked like a melted Snickers bar going through a wood chipper.

There is a skinny manager at Pequod’s who seemingly adores Celine Dion. Try to catch him gazing lovingly at her HD concert special when the dining room is not too busy.

Like Piece, Pequod’s gets crazy busy at night and parking can be difficult. Get ready for a significant wait.


Coalfire is my wife’s favorite Chicago pizza, and I rate it only slightly below Pequod’s. This establishment is less crowded than both Piece and Pequod’s due to its location at the edge of the West Loop. The space is small, so being able to get a table at Coalfire at nearly any hour makes this place a sort of hidden treasure, if you consider explosive squirts to be some sort of prize.

The coalfire oven creates pizzas that come out quickly with a great, crisp, yeasty crust. The fresh mozzarella creates a pie that looks like a water buffalo blew a load all over it, but the taste is slightly sweet and delectable. Our pizza had so much pepperoni that it was swimming in grease, but in the best possible way, not the, “holy shit, I just woke up and the Exxon Valdez crashed in my boxers” kind of way.

Like Piece, Coalfire has an impressive Cesar salad that is perfect for two people.  This fiber can really influence how many pages of ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ you get through on the can.

The beer selection is more creative than Pequod’s (Bell’s Two Hearted is available), but not too exciting. The wine is shit, but the wine is also shit at Piece and Pequod’s. Don’t drink wine at these restaurants.