No?  You want some, then?  Yeah?  Then we’ve got the party for you!  It’s the first annual St. Patrick’s day festival hosted by the good lads and lassies of the Pwn Depot!

Come by Blarney Castle on St. Paddy’s day for an evening of riverdance, shitty food, and alchoholism.  Also, we’ve got an Aussie and an Austrian on board, and they’re kind of Irish, right?  Oh, and Matt will read Ulysses in its entirety for anyone who’s interested.  Free Guiness if you stay awake for the whole thing.

P.S. If you don’t show up in green you won’t get in the door.  We’re bloody serious.

At the warehouse its always phat on tuesdays, but this time its even fatter!

Mardi gras, aka martes gordo, is upon us.  Where better to celebrate the beginning of dirty old lent (aka hash wednesday) than in an illegal warehouse with four dicks from wisconsin?

Tuesday, February 24.  7 pm.  Byo beads (and booze).
Also – Jed’s back this time.  Really.

Come by the warehouse today to say goodbye to our friend Jed.  He’s headed to New Orleans & Senegal for the next three months.

Life off the Playa got you down?  Tired of having to show up for work fully clothed?  Is the weather in the Bay Area just a little too temperate? Depressed about Sunday’s decompression? We’ve got just the thing for you!

 SFSAS (The San Francisco Sazerac Appreciation Society)  and the Pwn Depot are proud to present our first-annual recompression party.  We’re pulling out all of the stops for this one (including sending out invites more than 24 hours in advance).

The Ganson Tribe in 2008

We’ve got tents!  Glowsticks!  Twenty-five shitty bikes!  Sand!  Booze!  Steve!  Glitter!

Tuesday, Oct 14, 2008, 6:30 PM-late.  Please dress in your finest playa wear, bring glowy things and your radical self reliance.  View the full invite (NSFW).

Welcome home*

*Don’t have any idea what we’re talking about?  No problem – just come by and we’ll get you drunk.

Its been a while.  A long while in fact.  This Tuesday, September 23rd marks the triumphant return of the drink which gave our weekly happy hour its beginnings.  The Sazerac.  Loved by some, hated by others, the Sazerac is not only a New Orleans staple, but an SFSAS staple.  Its disappearance in recent months has caused much controversy, stirfe, anguish and general soberness.

Unlike most sequels, this one won’t be shitty either (I’m looking at you Godfather 3).  So come over after 6:30, bring some beers or food and be ready to sample a Sazerac.

If you’re already a member of the San Francisco Sazerac Appreciation Society (SFSAS) you were, at least at one point, cool.  If you’re getting our correspondence and don’t know us, you’re at least cool enough for us to confuse you with someone who actually is.  Ergo, no one (I mean NO ONE) has a good reason for not coming by this week.

To the faithful (or unemployed and shiftless) who are already regulars: thank you.  To everyone else: you can f*ck right off.  Well, come to our party first.  Then frig off.

Oh, we’ve heard the excuses before:

“Who are you?”

Okay, maybe if you had a little too much fun last week you need a refresher.  We are the entire crew of the original SFSAS (Brendan, Lisa, Preston, and Jed, minus Mike and Julie, who are here in spirit), plus a few newcomers. Meet Jason Wolfe, computer genius.  Bei Jiang, chef extraoidinaire.  Matt Arnold, the baddest-ass bassoonist this side of the Atlantic.  And, last but not least, Steven Q. Bice, terror of fantasy football leagues from here to Mankato (bonus – he consults if you pay him in Mountain Dew).

“Why should I come by your dirty warehouse party?”

Because we’re awesome.  And we’ve got a hanging couch.  Plus, if you get drunk enough, you might get laid.

“But what about my job?  Isn’t Tuesday a little early for a bender?”

We will not dignify that with a response.  I pitty da fool.

We know you’re out there, so why aren’t you coming?  We’ve got all these snacks . . .

-The Gang

“The heathen are sunk down in the pit that they made: in the net which
they hid is their own foot taken.”

-Jesus H. Christ

We’re almost finished construction here at the Pwn Depot.  Come check out what we’ve (almost) built!

We’ve almost got a bannister for our stairs!
We’ve almost got netting to keep people falling off our loft!
We’ve almost got all the electrical boxes covered!
Bei’s almost got a door!

Help us celebrate 91 days without injury*.

Tuesday. 6:30 – ’til.

BYOB.

*Unless you count Randi cutting her finger off.

It’s been awhile . . . . but we’re back!  Back from Mexico, Back from Belize, Back from Trempealeau, Back from Denmark, Back from the gas chambers of Eastern Europe, Back from La Isla Bonita . . .

Join us to celebrate our new life in a crazy warehouse, complete with air hockey, Brendan on piano, and more stupid souvenirs than you can possibly imagine.  We’ll bring the Madonna.

Tuesday.  Be there.

All good things must come to an end, and Tuesday nights at our house
are no exception:(

Please help us write the final chapter in happy hour history at this
weeks Farewell Happy Hour. As always, we will have beer and limited
food awaiting your arrival. Brendan and Preston will be flying
(likely hungover) to the the mid-west the following day, and we want
to make their trip away from the bay as painful as possible. Because
this is a sad occasion, proper mourning attire is suggested (black
veils optional).

But really, this is a celebration for all of our great friends, who
have made our Tuesday nights much more fun then Tuesday nights were
ever meant to be. So grab a friend, pick up a beer, and come on over.

See you at 6ish!