Whassup: March Attacks Edition

Celebrate Brooklyn announced the first summer shows this week.

Let's face it, February is a shitty month. It's (usually) cold; there's a big, fake holiday reminding you of your single-hood right in the middle, and it's really short, always prompting thoughts of, "Wow, another month went by, and I still haven't published that novel or shared real affection with a non-puppy." Well, thank St. Patrick that month's in the shit can, because now we can get on to the good stuff -- March: the creep toward spring, a holiday where you pretend to be Irish and get drunk, and it's named after the badassiest god of them all. Welcome to Whassup: March Attacks Edition:

* Through Sunday, March 4: Yelp Drink Specials, Freddy's and Lucky 13: As we told your drunken asses Wednesday, Yelp wants to support your habit by funding happy hour specials across the City -- including at (South) Slope abodes of alcohospitality, Freddy's and Lucky 13 Saloon. Getcher slurred seech sp- suh- speech on.

* Thursday, March 1: CasHank Hootenanny Jamboree, Freddy's: Tonight's as good a time as any to get sloshed at Freddy's, too. Because what's the best thing to do when you're hammered? No, not awkwardly mouth vacuum a stranger's lips (that's second best). First is stumble through classic country songs. The monthly sing-a-long of Johnny Cash and Hank Williams tunes returns, led by Alex Battles, fresh off the Johnny Cash 80th Birthday Bash. 9pm, FREE.

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Whassup: Leap Week Edition

via hahastop.com

Good news, everyone: this February, it's a little bit longer than usual. What I mean is, it's a Leap Year! (And yes, I did write it that way so that you could all add your own "That's what she said" comments. And I hope that you did.) This next week includes the Leap Day -- an extra day, next Wednesday, to soak up all that life in Park Slope has to offer. So, get out there and get in an extra day of eating/drinking/making merry. It's Whassup: Leap Week Edition:

* This Week: Weather, Outside: It looks like the vaguely frightening spring-like weather is set to continue, with 50's and 40's for the week. So, get out there and have a picnic beneath Prospect Park's skeletal trees. You might be able to get a prime spot, without the haze of BBQ smoke and child screams that cover the place all summer.

* Thursday, Feb. 23: Uke Night, Freddy's: How obscure are your musical tastes, Brooklyn dweller? Do you feel like no matter how many bearded, indie bands named after woodland creatures you adopt, you just can't keep ahead of the music-foraging, hipster masses? Consider the ukulele. No matter how scraggly their beards are, a guitar-based band is just one more variation on the Beatles. So, try something actually different with Uke Night at Freddy's. Ukulele jam session at 7pm, followed by the singing, dancing Ukuladies and their "cowboy love songs" at 9pm. FREE.

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Whassup: Post-Valentine's Fuck Search Edition

Well, I hope you're all recovered from your day of chocolate and sensual lovemaking and/or Ben and Jerry's and sobbing, pathetic masturbation. Now, with Valentine's Day just a sick, sick memory, we can all turn our attention to more fruitful ventures: finding kooky, semi-ironic Brooklyn activities at which maybe we'll get laid. Welcome to Whassup: Post-Valentine's Fuck Search Edition:

* Ongoing: Mid-Brooklynite's Dream, Truffle Theatre Company: Recently the recipient of some Lincoln Center props, which called it "delightful" and "low-budget," this production of Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream" enchants the boozy forest at Cobble Hill bar 61 Local. It runs through Feb. 26. Evening and matinee showings, $5-15.

* Thursday, Feb. 16-Sunday, Feb. 19: SomethingatSouthpaw, Southpaw: This will officially be the last instance of my hastily constructed tradition of announcing one Southpaw event here until the place shutters. With the end coming Monday, the 20th, this is all there is, folks. Well, we close up with a four-nights-long shindig, at least: Americana Pie, a Thursday through Sunday run of roots, old-school country, and bluegrass singer songwriters and bands. Come stomp your boots with all the Southpaw-lovin' fervor youv'e got. 8pm Doors, $10 per night.

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[Fips Was There...] 826NYC’s charity poker tournament with Ira Glass and David Cross

We here at FIPS spend a hell of a lot of time out and about in Brooklyn, attending outdoor concerts, comedy shows and various other events. So [FIPS Was There...] is where we're gonna' talk about all this shit.

This past Saturday, I walked into the Brooklyn Superhero Supply Company looking for 826NYC’s charity poker tournament called "Poker For Jokers." After a week of fundraising, I’d managed to secure $518.24 to turn into poker chips for me to gamble with. Amongst my opponents were David Cross and Ira Glass. I was actually afraid to meet Ira Glass in person, for fear that my man crush on him would be shattered (no pun intended).

But not afraid enough to beat him if I had to.

So, I walked in and thought, fuck these little kids, where’s the poker? The place was tiny as all hell, certainly not big enough for a poker tournament. When asked where the poker tournament was, I was escorted into a private room, complete with a secret entrance behind a bookshelf.

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[Fips Was There...] Punderdome's Last Southpaw Stand

Southpaw's sign comes down Feb. 20 (via flickr)

We here at FIPS spend a hell of a lot of time out and about in Brooklyn, attending outdoor concerts, comedy shows and various other events. So [FIPS Was There...] is where we're gonna' talk about all this shit.

With Valentine's Day here, it's a good time to remember: all good things come to an end. The same goes for everything mediocre or kind of sucky. There's always a finish line. Or a point in the race where your car engulfs you in flames. Which is sort of a metaphorical finish line, anyway. I'm losing the thread...

The old-school (relatively speaking) Slope venue Southpaw dies the death most local businesses face in just under a week (Feb. 20). Being, I think, the first Slope-area music venue I attended during one of my first trips to NYC ten years ago, I wanted to say goodbye to the old, poster-wallpapered, dark, metal-floored dive. So, last night, I caught the final Southpaw incarnation of one of my favorite series of theirs: the revelry of geeky wordplay known as Punderdome 3000.

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