Anna "Make it a Double" K.'s Profile

My main man Tony the cashier is the inspiration for today's Yelp. I love a guy who shares my penchant for rhyming, alcohol, and horrible jokes- especially when all these elements are combined!

So, I come to this Safeway location every Wednesday afternoon to pick up vodka and Gatorade- yes my friends, kickball season is once again amongst us! So Tony, my cashier, gives me a semi-skeptical look and asks for my ID, because apparently it's odd that someone in proper office attire is buying a fifth of alcohol at noon in the middle of the week (also, I still haven't sucessfully thwarted girlish acne, so I understand his doubting my legality).

I explain to Tony the joy of adult kickball, and the necessity of Faderade, and let him in on my own little motto- "It's the hydration libation sensation!" and without a beat, Tony adds in, "that oughtta be spread around the nation!"

God bless him.

Fifth star to be added once Safeway bulks up their selection of Gatorade flavors... variety is the chaser of life, right?

When my coming-of-age story did NOT make the cut (who doesn't want to hear about a baby Anna K accidentally walking into the men's locker room, only to find her male babysitter in the nude? Oh, that's right. Everybody.) I thought it was a eating-a-tub-of-ice-cream-and-crying-in-my-room kinda night for me, but then an enabling angel in the human form of Carlos A graciously offered me his +1. You're the bees knees, buddy.

So glad I have friends in "fly" places, (ZING!) cause the event was bitchin'. Cocktails and wine flowed like beer, appetizers were bomb (the expression, not the weapon), and the crowd was too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan.

Hollers to a few of my faves, obviously my sugar-daddy Carlos, homegirls Kerry P, Mollie S, and Erika C, my role model Janney B (by the by, you totally pull off the Suri, sans crazy), my big sis Rachel F, my now "real" friend Phil H, Keane "Yelps Best Whilst Drunk" L, and new friends Felicia C and Hana N for letting me FAIL stamp them on the boobs. Awesome.

By the Beard of Zeus! Finally, a sandwich shop within a block of my office with prices comparable to Subway, only the food isn't devoid of taste! My tuna sando was delightful, and not too mayonaise-y (a rare find, in tuna-land, almost as elusive as this little devil: http://i189.photobucke... ).

-Warning: the "useful" stops here.-

Like my lunch wasn't swell enough already- Patton and I also re-discovered the utter joy of MadLibs. Our best:

THE KRANZTHORS TAKE A VACATION

It was in the February of 1987, my family and I and my best friend, Burt, set out for the great unknown... An Elephant's Underbelly. We scrumped all of our rutabegas and loaded up into our family's forklift. Burt complained about how she didn't have any shuz in the back. I turned around and climaxed at her because I had one with me.

Our first stop was in the VAN down by the RIVER. We pulled over to flooze and then realized we were lost. My dad called his cousin Legless Shirley and they gave us directions for the way out. I was so whelmed at my dad, he always gets us lost.

I had to share a room with Legless Shirley that night. NOT FUN! Do you know what she does in her sleep?
Well for starters she:
Horks
Spews
Fists
AND she kicks while doing all of this. I woke up with bruises.

We had stayed at a hotel in Bumfuck, Idaho, we were about 5 miles down the road until my mom realized she forgot her smurf at the hotel room. We ended up staying the night at the same hotel, because we had to go back. I was not very smarmy with my mom.

I had to crochet with Alyssa again. I hate my life.

Anyway we lubed back into the car the next day and made the same trip we had made the day before. We ended up hula-hooping all 47 tires and had to stop at yo mama's house.

We said, "Screw An Elephant's Underbelly, let's go home." We chugged to the nearest airport. We arrived home only to find our house queafed down.

I have no idea why I came back to East Side West for brunch last weekend... wait, that's a lie; I do. The inevitable forty minute wait at the monumentally superior Balboa Cafe was just too much for my brutally hungover body to bear. So, I lowered my expectations and walked into the dimly lit (1 star there, I didn't really want anybody getting a good look at my make-up from the night before) eatery and sat, praying that contrary to previous experiences my meal would be edible.

When the waitress came around and asked what we'd like, I ordered a water, coffee, Jumbo Bloody Mary, Huevos Rancheros, and a vicodin. Can't complain about the beverages; in fact a gold star is awarded for the above average Bloody (complete with a prawn). However, I almost expunged the tasty little shrimp from my tummy after ingesting my main course- the Huevos Disgustos. I ask you, who puts mushy carrots, celery, and a big canned tomato is the center of a tortilla, tops it with a runny egg, and calls it a meal worth $9.00?  

Also, I never did get that vicodin I ordered. Never again.

On a particularly chilly afternoon in August (a bra would've been a good choice) I was in need of some delicious piping tomato soup, and Boudin delivered said hot-cup-o-goodness. Perfectly paired with the spring salad, and a heavy sweater.

Five stars for the name itself.

Ok, so *technically* I've never been here.
But my last name is Kranzthor, and every single one of my friends calls me THOR.
I own a viking hat, and a battle hammer.
I've run down the street yelling "VICTORY!" wearing said costume.

You can bet your village's prized ram that next time I'm in NYC I will show up in full on Thor garb and demand free food and drink, or I shall be forced to rape and pillage.

I don't care what the foodies say, I'll happily grub on the fish tacos here.

                                   ****************************

Which is ironic, because my lesbian best friend won't touch 'em.

When I saw the CityDish email notiying me of O Izakaya Lounge's promotion featuring free chicken wings, $3 cocktails, and karaoke, my immediate thought was this: Oh. Hell. Yes.

Of all the CityDish recipients, I was apparently the only one with this reaction, because my girls were, well, the only people there. Did this stop us from raising our Goblets Of Rock? Oh. Hell. No.

Not only did we tear the house down with our 80's prowess, we also killed with Grease duets and the ultimate quartet performance of "Bye, Bye, Bye." You bet your ass we took home the trophy*, and will be defending our title every Thursday night. Feel free to give us some real competition; we'll be the broads wearing the matching scarves (another prize from being the evening's best/only performers).

*We narrowly beat out the chick who sang  the Lion King's "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" in GERMAN. Yes, seriously.

I recently made a trip back to Colorado, where I spent my collegiate days running amok. My vacation was amazing- attended the nuptials of some good friends (beautiful, and perfect- with the tiny exception of some of the wedding party ending up in jail), met my 11 day old twin cousins (adorable, in a reminiscent-of-mashed-potatoes-kinda-way), and reenacted old shenanigans with former roommates (no, we haven't matured at all).

But despite what I told all the people I visited, the real reason I made a return to Boulder was for the Snarfs sandos. (Sorry, Grandma.)

So, after my lunch date with "Pants Free" Patton fell through, I decided to solo crush the ol' sushi stand-by. I don't even have to order anymore, when I walk in the door at Sushi Kinta the whole staff greets me excitedly and starts making my spicy tuna roll with extra ginger on the side, gang-bowing me all the while. I find a small table, put in my earphones, and sit silently, eating my meal and playing sudoku.

It's at this moment when I realized that I've completely assimilated to their culture, and (very quietly and modestly) I chuckle to myself.

I neatly wipe down my space, throw out my trash, and for good measure, thank my hosts profusely, bowing the whole time.

Konichiwa, bitches.