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Punch Drunk

An unwasted summer: Jack's RVA summer to-do list.



While you’re spending your long summer days lounging on the James — or in Deltaville, where we respectable Richmondahs summer — I’ll be here in the citaaah — tackling the issues head-on and straight getting things done. To that end I’ve created a summer to-do list for you lazy, beer-drinkin’, James River tube-floatin’, nine-years-into-Virginia-Commonwealth-University-no-degree-havin’ hippies:

RVA Summer To-Do List:

• In honor of the new law passed that allows Virginians to bring their own wine into restaurants, try this: Walk into Secco Wine Bar with your own box of wine — Franzia, Sunset Blush, 2011. Pay no attention to the sneering sommelier. Pay whatever the corkage fee is. Drink all 5 liters in one sitting. Eat exotic cheeses. Act smug.

• In honor of the new law that allows outdoor liquor advertising, buy up billboard space near the city’s poorest neighborhoods. Sell at exponentially higher rates to companies such as Patron, Grey Goose and Hennessey. Make money by capitalizing on stereotypes while hurting the community.

• Buy up billboard space near churches. Sell to Jim Beam so it can advertise its new Devil’s Cut 90 Proof Whiskey.

• Laugh.

• Have the Lord get upset with you. Apologize. Change Devil’s Cut billboard to an advertisement for Zing Zang Bloody Mary Mix, the Sunday hangover cure-all.

• Repeal the city meal tax already. Customers are getting fleeced by a 6 percent Richmond meals tax in addition to the 5 percent that the state tacks on. Screw the general fund. I, like you, am more concerned about my personal wallet than I am that of the state. That 6 extra percent lying around equals a few extra six-packs in my fridge.

• Facebook.com/RepealTheMealTax.

• Play grab-ass at City Hall. Everybody’s doin’ it!

• For assistance on rules, regulations, strategies and follow-up investigations regarding the playing of said grab-ass, contact City Council President Kathy Graziano.

• Help convince the city to frivolously waste its recent $60.3 million windfall. Or better yet, help convince the city to ball out of control with all of that cash. Public water park? Roller-coaster transit system between the Fan and downtown? A tuxedo for every homeless person in the city? You can’t hide money son!

• Stock up on cheap business cards. Attend a Richmond Grid magazine event. Learn how to set up Twitter and Facebook accounts. Learn how to write legibly. Tweet about the event instead of speaking to anyone. Bring 5-liter box of Franzia along to help you with capitalization, branding and strategic marketing. Once you get through all of that bullshit and are about to gracefully exit the event — leave upper decker in the john.

• Attend RVA Mag house party in Jackson Ward. Wear horizontally-striped tank top. Act like everyone else while still retaining your uniqueness. Tell someone that you know Black-Hearted Diamond Boy.

• Attend Richmond.com party. Try not to vomit on Karri Peifer.

• Start a creative collective consisting of Richmond’s business leaders, self-appointed branding gurus and corporately hailed artistic types. Continually discuss how awesome your meetings are. Get as much press as possible. Accomplish nothing.

• Bon Iver? Find out who and where this is? Rave about its new-wave sound and colonial architecture? Do this before the RVA Mag party. Mention Black-Hearted Diamond Boy in the same sentence as Bon Iver. Instantly win the respect of Chris Bopst.

• Try to avoid driving on Midlothian Turnpike, Hull Street or Broad Street for the entire summer. Watch your blood pressure decrease. See life in a completely different light. Reconnect with long-lost friends and family. Hate people less.

• Read Style Weekly more often. Disregard issues in which the cover story claims that the James River wants to kill you. We swear he doesn’t. He was just drunk and mouthing off. He’ll apologize in the morning.

Whew … That was exhausting. On second thought, I think I’ll get away for a bit and let you guys get to work on this quagmire. If you need me I’ll be on the Rappahannock and away from this mess till September. Now fetch me another bourbon and water, sah, and don’t drown it this time.

Chop chop.


Editor's note: This online version corrects the spelling of Karri Peifer's name.

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