For the record - the State Street Pavilion is for douchebags who don’t care about the game. Down here is for real motherfuckers (and for people with rain slickers).

That would be a picture of Sox fans drinking shots of butterscotch schnapps filled with bacon bits at Lansdowne Pub. They call them Pancake Breakfast Shots. I’m not so sure how I feel about them, but at least I didn’t get thrown up on.

I presume this is from Odd Future’s rendezvous in Boston last week. For those of you who missed it, here’s my Boston Phoenix feature on OFWGKTA…

screwviagra:

Tyler the Creator x Celtics

So I’m behind enemy lines at Yankee Stadium this past Friday - more on that coming shortly - and I notice a familiar face pop up on the screen above the noodle stand. It’s Bob Kaufman from Bob’s Discount Furniture, who, if I remember correctly, is also in bed with the Red Sox.

I’m pretty sure that this IS NOT okay.

Great Pic. You could probably get like $500 for a print of this in some swanky South End gallery.

gothicflamingos:

365: A Year In Photos {Day29} - May 5, 2011

A wicked cute little old lady at the Sox game. We lost 11-0. It was pathetic.

So I can finally reconcile wearing Sox gear. I’m sure that half of you people already knew about this joint - thanks for not telling me about it - but I just stumbled onto ‘47 on Newbury Street, and this place has some seriously fresh merch.

Of course, some of what they carry is a little lame - they have the biggest smorgasbord of broken-in frat boy hats I’ve ever seen.

That’s what the final beer served at Fenway on any given night looks like. Literally copped one pitch before the lame ass last call cut-off.

This is what life looks like from the State Street Pavilion. Great seats and all - especially if you only paid 20 bucks (on the street) like my cheap ass - but if I were to work in finance like a giant douchebag, I’d probably think I deserved something closer to the field.

I think it’s safe to say that the Sox-Yankees feud influences every last facet of life around here. People hate it when I speak to this point, but, having spent more than two decades as a New Yorker, I can confidently say that there are no Cheers billboards on the A train that say, “Sam Malone is one Red Sox pitcher who it’s alright to cheer for.

Sitting in the front row. This is why I roll solo - cheap ass single tickets in the sections where I can buy beer. Also - by the way - the beers are cheaper in the sweet seats. What’s up with that shit?

Cigarette smokers banned to the alleyway behing Who’s on First. Lots of noise out here. And this Chablis ‘79 should be served slightly chilled, but it’s room temperature - what are we, animals?