Drinking, Fighting, Fucking and Crying Title

Drinking, Fighting, F*&king, and Crying

Bondo_-_Fistful_Of_BiscuitsThis is the first of a new, ongoing column I’m going to try and churn out once a week, here on Joup. My involvement with this wonderful website has waxed and waned over the last two years or so; work takes up more and more of my time – and conversely so does the commute to and fro – as well as the fact that I have ramped up work on several different prose projects. Here in the first quarter of 2018 I stand poised to release several of those projects and as both a kind of celebratory undertaking as well as one of camaraderie with constant contributor Thomas, I’d been trying to think of a column I could contribute on a weekly basis that didn’t command hours of writing and editing time. In other words the exact opposite of the column I tried to launch and failed several years ago, Beautiful Brutality. Thomas has a really great thing going with his Endless Loop column; he can choose how involved each week’s edition is based on how he’s feeling at the time. So in narrowing down literally dozens of ideas I came up with for a new column, this is the one that won:

Welcome to Drinking, Fighting, Fucking, and Crying.

The title has a particular ring and more importantly, everyone can relate to one of those four things, if not all four, if not in concert. The scheme I’ll probably apply to this first month of columns is a sort of one-after-the-other, so I can lay groundwork for examples of all four scenarios presented in the title. After that I may simply choose which of the four I wish to pursue on any given week by my current temperament


Back in the mid-90s I, along with Joup founder Joe Grez, Joup Contributor Sonny Vitkauskas and another fellow those who read my regular blog known as the enigmatic Mr. Brown were in a band called The Schlitz Family Robinson. The material ran the gamut from country to funk to metal to avante garde, the unifying theme Mr. Brown’s undeniably odd view of the world. It was the best time of my former life, the one where I contrived to call myself a musician, and I still miss playing with those guys on an almost daily basis. The Schlitz Family Robinson’s live shows became legendary among the select few who either knew us or happened in on our shenanigans. We’d fallen into a relationship with a now-dead venue called The Big Horse, located behind a burrito joint in Chicago’s indie rock mecca Wicker Park. The gentleman who booked shows there, Scott Anthony of the late-great Chicago Indie band Cats and Jammers, had no idea what he was in for the first time he booked us, but surprisingly, in spite of the fact (or perhaps because of it) that the following events all occurred at some point during that show we became regular on The Big Horse’s schedule.

But I digress.

One of the bands we played with a handful of times was Bondo. I didn’t know these guys beforehand and I’ve had no contact with them since, but I bought their album that day, “A Fistful of Biscuits” and it remains a favorite, a piece of my own personal history as much as it is a record of a great band that not many folks know about. Bondo had one song that made a decent amount of traction, “Fuck You I’m Drunk,” and while that is a classic, this here is my favorite song by them, if only because it speaks a dark truth about my twenties – probably many people’s twenties. How many nights can you say the Angels drove you home? I’m lucky to be able to say for me, there were many.

Enjoy. Next week we start a fight.

Shawn C Baker

Shawn C Baker

Shawn lives in Los Angeles where he co-hosts Drinking w/ Comics, writes screenplays and fiction and has been known to drink quite a bit of beer. Good beer.

2 Responses to Drinking, Fighting, F*&king, and Crying
  1. sonny vitkauskas Reply

    I love it!

  2. Thomas H Williams

    Thomas H Williams Reply

    I am very much looking forward to what you unleash with this column!

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