If you've stuck around long enough, you may recall last year's heave Ho misadventure with a DHBC armed VISA card, and a license to Do The Downtown or whatever the hell they called it. I called it Three Dog Night because I woke up in a pup tent necking with a golden retriever. And let's just say they closed BISH restaurant shortly after my wing man and myself graced their doorstep seeking vittles to soak up the libations we were overserved at the Casino. I personally take no responsibility.
This year's piss up, er, adventure in marketing, is entitled Big Day Downtown-Try Something New which should be interesting, because short of heroin and an Asian hermaphrodite prostitute, there's really very little at this stage of the game that I would consider "new". Some thoughts would be sneaking on to an idling cruise ship dressed up as a disoriented senior citizen, but that's not really too much of a stretch. Or, maybe I'll attempt hot wiring one of those floating turds they call submarines that we won in a poker game off Margaret Thatcher.
"New" is the tricky part, but I'm up for Ms. Ho's challenge. Why just last night I came off a 2-week cleanse and challenged myself to 2 pounds of mussels ($5 Lion's Head special) and a pound of suicide wings sloshed down with a pint or two of Schmirnoff Ice. Truly daring on a recently Mormoned tummy. After 20 years, the Lion's Head Tavern have a fancy new menu which includes a Man v Food-worthy entree called Elvis Poutine – an artery clogging array of sausage and barbiturates as well as the usual poutine fixins. Tempting – but I went for the lighter fare, with a side of blue cheese dip. I was in the mood for ass-burning spice, not "new".
So brace yourself Ivy Ho. I'll call your $100 and raise your eyebrows with my forthcoming foray into something "new" downtown.
All I need now is a wing man.
The Lion's Head Tavern is at 3081 Robie Street. Wing nights are Saturdays and Tuesdays.