A little history: I took a job in 2003 as a journalist with a small trade publication. As a newly-minted college graduate unaware of the ways of the working world, it came to me as a great surprise that I had been Googled by most of the office within half an hour of my arrival. By the end of the week, my new boss had called me in to his office to ask me to shut down a blog I had been running as an extension of my column in the college newspaper, a lefty flamethrowing affair that was long on vitriol and short on anything that would make it the least bit different from dozens of other low-traffic amateurish attempts at punditry. I complied with the request, backing up the site for my own personal amusement but obliterating any trace of it on the web, save a few links here and there that have since dwindled.

Two weeks of all work and no blogging made me a dull boy. Anxious to write about something other than the wonky stuff from work, I asked my friend a.m.g. about starting a new group blog where I could do more focused blogging across several blogs. According to the original Smorgasblog concept, a few
friends would have their choice of a few topic-specific blogs on which to write, making each individual blog more reader-friendly while allowing writers to wander from topic. The first two blogs, DCSOB and Live from the Third Rail had three authors (myself, a.m.g. and c.s., who moved away). Blogs on music and food were to follow, with new contributors and better content.

Although there was no manifesto, the concept for DCSOB was something along the lines of "a cross between Gawker and Gothamist, but for D.C." Pre-Wonkette and DCist, it seemed like a good idea, but soon got subsumed by our interests and attitudes. Trips to Virginia to review automated
toilets and calls to hill staffers on mid-day crises gave way to parody, hilarious social activities and lots of complaining.

As the months passed, by, a.m.g. and c.s became more interested in their own ventures, leaving the site to me, the improbably-pseudonymed Randolph Q. Jurisprudence III (named as such to prevent my co-workers from finding DCSOB).

The site hit its peak in April with the posting of Washington's
Most Loathsome with the help of DCeiver. All the links from so many high traffic sites required the purchase of additional bandwith, a first in DCSOB history.

Now that this chapter of my blog-life has ended, I'd like to thank everyone who has read or linked to this site, attended a bluestate, left a comment or sent an email, positive or negative. The site archives will remain in their current location as long as Smorgasblog is still running, which it should for some time.

See you at the new blog!

UPDATE: The new blog didn't publish my first post for a few hours. Things seem to be working now.

Recorded in Shaw at around 12:15.

This morning, I shared a bathroom with someone who was holding a conversation at a urinal. Sure, I've seen people who have carried conversations into the bathroom, or those who use a stall as a private area in which to conduct (telephonic) business, but this was a new low. Aren't you supposed to wash your hands before touching anything else after using bathroom facilities? Can't the person you're calling hear you as you urinate?

Mr. Won't-Wait-To-Whiz, I don't know whether society has failed you, or if you have failed society.

DCSOB Florida bureau chief "b." sends this unusual sample from Gainsville, Fla.

Eat at the Supreme Court cafeteria

Yeah, yeah, the food was good. Considering the fact that it takes up about a quarter of the space used by the Senate cafeteria, it had better be just like mama used to make in comparison. But what took me aback when I went to SCOTUS were the media brigades camped out like a gaggle of gadget-inclined sunbathers. There were no women with "Keep Abortion Legal" placards and no forlorn-looking fundies with "life" taped across their mouths. Any news about a potential appointment (this was earlier in the month) would come from the White House or Congress, not this building. Still, the correspondents needed a backdrop in front of which to announce, night after night, that nothing had taken place. To support the anchors, several dozen behind-the-camera workers sat around all day, playing cards, reading The DaVinci Code and complaining about the heat. Haven't these people ever heard of a blue screen?

Visit the Zoo

Done, on the day the new panda was born, in fact. I didn't see the big event and nobody at the zoo said anything about the big (actually stick-of-butter sized) events taking place inside the Panda House. Knowing the zoo only from reputation and the Connecticut Avenue entrance, I found myself unprepared for the size of the place, wondering if I was going in one big loop as I past the beavers, sloth bears and piranhas in a long, slow, humid descent into Rock Creek Park. Maps are not free at the zoo, so you have to rely on the ones they have posted, which are increasingly infrequent the deeper inside you go. At the Amazonia exhibit, I found that I had spent over an hour and nearly soaked my shirt the whole way through with sweat just to make it to the farthest point from the entrance. By this point, I had no interest in seeing any more exotic animals, only in trudging uphill in the oppressive heat and humidity as fast as possible. The zoo is fantastic - in the fall.

Get drunk at Chipotle

This is the item on my to-do list that gets the most laughs, but I've been wanting to do it ever since the first Chipotles posted liquor license applications a couple of years ago. The beer is cheap, the locations are convenient, the chips, salsa and guacamole beat anything at a "real" bar. Plus, there's no fighting to get an order in at the bar, no frat boys poured uncomfortably into shirts and ties and no smoke. We went to Woodley Park for the outside seating area on a temperate Friday and got only a few odd looks from passerby.

Go to a Nationals game

Since I spent a lot of time in Yankee Stadium during high school, it's surprising that it took so long to go down to RFK for a game to see the much pooh-poohed (by me, admittedly wrongly) Nats. The lost to Colorado in a close game, but I'm still glad I went, since it gives me an opportunity to rant about RFK. It looks quite small despite its capacity because there are no outfield bleachers, just a green wall and an upper deck. No bleachers means no drunken bleacher creatures, very limited bullpen heckling and a huge missed opportunity for good, cheap seats.

Unlike many modern baseball fans, I do not lament the fact that the hallways, ramps and bathrooms are done in the parking garage style so popular in the 60s and 70s, nor do I care that you can’t get sushi. Stadiums are for watching sporting events, not sampling the cuisines of the world or doing your Christmas shopping in July. This leaves me torn. Yes, RFK is an ugly and unhistoric place, surrounded by nothing but parking lots and houses. But it's still functional and the proposed replacement will likely run far overbudget and will feature every expensive and stupid fad in modern stadia, from trendy food (Sala Thai concession?) to the faux-historical embellishments that make a mockery of the charms of actual old ballparks.

What is a fan to do? Continue rooting for the Yankees, I guess.

Find a go-go song I like

Sure, I played Trouble Funk's "Drop Da Bomb" (thanks DCeiver) and E.U.'s "Da Butt" at the Bluestate Battle Royale on Tuesday, but I don't think I'll be blasting either of those tunes on the highway any time soon.

Christine M. Tolson, an advisory neighborhood commissioner in single member district 7D-05, is the latest District elected official to face a recall challenge. The filing popped up on the Board of Election and Ethics' Web site Wednesday, just as the failed recall of Council Member Sharon Ambrose came to its conclusion.

Tolson's challenger, Rick Tingling-Clemmons, has until 5 p.m. Sept. 9 to collect the signatures of 10 percent of the registered voters in the single member district, or 144 names. The single member district is in far Northeast, near Deanwood.

In his filing, Tingling-Clemmons claims Tolson "systematically failed to inform or engage her constituents of proposed changes or incursions into our neighborhood as she committed to do," while taking positions opposite those of the community.

Recalling an ANC is like trying to get a McDonald's cashier fired for giving you incorrect change: cruel and pointless.

If you eat your brussels sprouts and do your homework, you too can become a billionare who pays people to litter across an entire city.

I have become Wonkette.

"The Washington Post reported that the Circulator – the brainchild of the National Capital Planning Commission working with two business groups and the Convention Center – was paid for with "$12.5 million from a 1960s legal settlement earmarked for city bus service." But the money wasn't given to the city's Metrobus system. First Transit, a private transportation company that runs several bus systems in the metropolitan area, will operate the Circulator. According to the Post, First Transit was awarded the money because it can "do the job for less – $57 for one hour of service per bus compared to $76 charged by Metro."

Metro, instead of netting over $12 million, will receive an annual payment of $519,000 (in hush money?) to "manage" the Circulator."

The District of Columbia has an existing bus system that is desperate for money to buy new buses and hire maintenance workers and drivers – and $12 million of the city's money goes to a private tourist bus line? Does anyone know the story behind that 1960s settlement? Where did this money come from, and how did it fall into the hands of a private company? And who can tell me how much these brand new buses imported from Belgium cost compared with the price of a Metrobus? (See "My Ride on the Circulator," below.)

Given the information we have, the money is to "improve bus service," not to "fund Metrobus." As for the "hush money," which isn't very hushed if it ends up in the Post and all manner of related public record, could equal more than the cost of the settlement, depending on future arrangements and the success of the circulator service.

Second of all, the attitude of this piece comes with a set of assumptions:

1) This service is for tourists, who don't matter. Well, all of those poor people you care so much about have to work somewhere, and a downtown restaurant, hotel or tourist attraction are all good options for a low-skilled DCPS graduate. Sure, tourists are annoying, but the city depends on them. Frankly, I'm glad this service is taking them off Metro. In addition, the Union Station connection is great for commuters who previously had to transfer from MARC or VRE to Metrorail to get to their offices in the Golden Triangle area. By relieving congestion on the busiest parts of the Metrorail system, the curculator makes it easier to add new riders in outlying areas.

2) There is something wrong with buying a bus from Belgium. I've rode similar buses before, all of which have been fine for their purposes. The Metro Action writer goes on to complain about the AC (they have it, trust me) and the seating configuration (short downtown routes need more standing capacity), based on one ride. I've been on Metrobuses without air conditioning and with filthy seats I wouldn't sit on even if you lent me a pair of pants. Metrobuses break down, they spew visible black soot and they rattle like they're going to fall apart. If the Belgians can make a bus that beats the current manufacturer in a fair competitive bidding process, they should be applauded, not derided.

3) Private companies are taking city money. Yes, but they're providing a service in exchange at a lower cost than WMATA could manage. Whether you run a city or a household, you can save time and money by getting a specialist to do a specific task. First Transit, which is owned by U.K. bus and rail operator FirstGroup, is a bus operator that has experience running public and school bus systems around the country. They seem to know what they are doing. Granted, they may be cheaper because of labor practices, which would be a cause for complaint, but the allegation is never made. Instead, they're private, which means that they must be bad. It's 2005 - grow up.

You may now continue your regular weekend activities.

UPDATE:

Factoid:

Kal Penn, who plays Kumar, is a vegetarian, so technicians made veggie Castles for him.

It's too bad he's not old enough to come on Tuesday.

Let me just stop here to say that my only two coverband-related experiences are

1) Reading Chuck Klosterman's account of a GnR act that toured fourth-rate dives in a drunken haze;

2) A band the older brother of someone I knew when I was 15 was in that could barely crank out "Rockaway Beach" without having an instrument fall out of time.

But maybe cover bands deserve another look. Seriously, have you heard The Bravery? It may be time to embrace musical influences in the transparent form of straight-up imitation.

First up was Athens 82 (or 83, depending on whom you ask), which did a pretty good job of sounding like REM, circa 1982/3, even if the lyrics were comprehensible. I found it a little strange that "Michael Stipe" wrote "free Borf" on the back of his shirt since the actual Borf would probably find REM circa 2005 tired and "boojy."

Mac Attack then took the stage. The act features members of the Carlsonics, Washington Social Club and a Stevie Nicks from I briefly worked next door from about a year and a half ago. Small world.

The played the hits. They played the "deep cuts" from the '80s Mac albums nobody bought. There was on-stage drama and feigned intra-band squabbles, all served with a heaping dollop of irony. The evening ended in a rendition of "The Chain" that went for about 15 minutes, with members of Athens 82 joining Mac Attackers and random fans on stage for an extended rock out/freak out that pushed the limits of indie rock, classic rock, the floorboards of DC9 and "Lindsay Buckingham's" wig.

I got my money's worth, even in 1979 dollars.

*Mac Attack never actually played that song.