Night Styles Fredericton Presents: Really Shaking Night Spots Part 2: Party in the Park After Dark

Halfway up Odell Park is where the action swings at night at Party in the Park After Dark, one of the hottest new “aux naturelle” destinations with miles of open-air halls for you to stumble around in a joyful stupor.

And what a thrill it is to sit in the Seat of Pagan Kings so close to the dance floor that you can literally trip the dancers as they spaz under the full moon light. Seating is available on a keep-it-till-somebody-bigger-comes-along ... and-kicks-your-sorry-ass-off-it basis.

Overnight accommodations are available in the Stoned Hedge Room, conveniently situated within pass out distance of the dance floor and a gentle roll from the Seat of Pagan Kings … but watch those crazy rocks! They’ll try to give you a playful knock on the noggin’ when you’re noddin’ off. Never a dull moment at Party in the Park After Dark!

And at the end of a hard day walking the streets, testing the generosity of human-kind in front of Tim Hortons, and pushing that heavy shopping cart to the recycling station, there’s nothing more relaxing than easing back in the spa pool, newly enlarged to accommodate half bodies at a time.

Party in the Park After Dark! It’s your ticket to some truly rocking party time. And remember … every Friday night is Howl at the Moon Night … moon or no moon.

No dress code! No reservations required! Pets welcome. BYOB&D.

Night Styles Fredericton Presents: Really Shaking Night Spots Part 1: The Riverview Mingle & Dance

Tired of the same-old-same-old nightspots with their predictable line-ups for drinks, long waits for food, mindless blatting music, crowded dance floors and indoor plumbing? Then, it’s time to head on down to the scenic Saint John River right behind the Governor General’s mansion for The Riverview Mingle & Dance.

The Riverview Mingle & Dance boasts a magnificent view of the Saint John River unimpeded by walls and window frames and a relaxing décor that exploits the natural beauty of “found” objects such as trees and rock formations to create your personal getaway from the world “in there.”

The Riverview Mingle & Dance takes advantage of “pre-existing artifacts” such as couch-shaped concrete structures and sewage outcroppings blended with natural rock and alder bushes to generate a cozy atmosphere where you can let your hair down while you down a quart of your finest rubbing alcohol.

Imagine you and your special date sitting around the Riverview Mingle & Dance main mingle room sharing a bottle, passing a needle, drying your socks over an open fire.

The Riverview Mingle & Dance’s main dance floor boasts spectacular under-the-stars dancing and a low impact dance floor.

Music is random and has included such greats as Bob on the harmonica, Joe on the Jew’s Harp, Danny playing Silent Night on grass blades and the ever popular Mad Dog Parker singing Bridge Over Troubled Waters.

The Riverview Mingle & Dance. No cover. No dress code. Pets welcome. No reservations required. BYOB&D

BIFFMITCHELL_dot_NEWS Has Gone to the Ditch

The much-awaited and vaunted vaulted and delayed issue of BIFFMITCHELL_dot_NEWS, my totally uninformative, unattractive, and rightly unappreciated newsletter was posted last night to over a hundred subscribers, none of whom will read it.

If you didn't receive a copy in your email, then you're not on the list. If you'd like to subscribe so that you too can ignore it on those rare occasions when it's published, then just send an email to me at biff@biffmitchell.com with "Subscribe to your useless newsletter" in the subject line. And feel free to insult me in the body of the email.

On the other hand, if your email box gets full of crap even more irrelevant than my newsletter and you'd like to keep it clear for the good stuff like get rich quick schemes, links to couples who go all the way in your neighborhood, and the secret to eternal youth and vitality, then you can download the enhanced multimedia PDF edition that contains actual color photography and genuine fonts by clicking here.

This issue features a sneak preview of my family story, Sleeping In Ditches.

A Book About A Book ... Or A Book, For Book's Sake

A woeful tale of twisted tails gone awry and a world-class sob story about misplaced beer and pizza and a lonely call into the Aurora Borealis night for just one quiet moment of sanity makes its way into a free ebook now available by just clicking here.

Warning: Not all the content in this book is suitable for the sane at heart. In fact, most of the content in this book is not fit for anyone with even a remote grip on reality.

Sleeping in Ditches at The Grand

I've been working on a family story called Sleeping In Ditches for nearly half a year. It's one of those situations in which the story imposes itself on you and then takes over your life with a never-ending flow of words that seem to be going nowhere but you can't give it up or switch to a new channel or unsubscribe or just delete the bloody thing because the words are just clever enough that you think they might be saying something or taking an idea somewhere and you're afraid that if you jump ship you'll miss the point so you keep writing not exactly day after day but on those days when you pick your daughter up at the Second Cup Coffee Shop and you get there an hour or so early to work on this damn story that's going nowhere and it's getting really frustrating but you know you're on to something so you can't stop until finally your boss sends you to Toronto and you're sitting in the patio at night with heat lamps burning your head where you used to have hair and the view is obscured by plastic wrap all around the patio to keep the cold out and you've forgotten how many bottles of beer and glasses of wine you've had and you're still suffering from jet lag though there's only an hour difference but you flew Air Canada and you're just about to take another sip of Shiraz and the top of your head explodes and your eyes bounce out of your head and your teeth start spinning in your mouth and it comes to you like a thunderous fart from the iodine sky ... the end of your story.

Or something like that. The damn thing's finished now. It's over. I can get on now.

Here's Karina's photo simulation of me writing on the patio of the Grand Hotel. Just imagine dozens of empty bottles and glasses and fire leaping out of my eyes ... and that would complete the simulation.

The Park That Went To The Dogs

I have cousin in Toronto who walks dogs. She used to be a cowgirl and an alligator wrestler, but she decided to go for the glamour of four-legged animals of all sizes running circles around her and trying to strangle, trip and cocoon her with leashes. Now, she gets to wear special throw-away gloves that turn into bags for those special occasions when her canine cuties spew poop pies.

She walks the dogs in a park that’s literally gone to the dogs, a place where the dogs can run unleashed and free as any majestic animal limited only by the boundaries of a park that’s literally gone to the dogs.

In this picture a woman who is not Kate Moss walks several dogs, none of whom is Rin Tin Tin or Lassie.

In this picture, my cousin, Daisy, has temporarily had her head bitten off by a rather large dog with a zany sense of humor.

In this picture, several former cowboys, cowgirls and alligator wrestlers turned dog walkers discuss the absence of Daisy’s head and begin to formulate a plan.

Just as everybody was about to give up, a one-time mongoose wrestler turned dog walker watcher showed up and said: “Daisy, your head wasn’t bitten off. It’s still on your shoulders. That crazy Biff just aimed the camera too low.” Here he is, looking at me in a very stern but benign manner.

And here’s cousin Daisy, leaving the park that’s gone to the dogs, head intact, and brain pondering: “Is the one pooping on the grass one of mine … or just an optical illusion from Biff’s camera?”

Yes, Virginia, There's A Biff's In Toronto

So there I was walking down Yonge Street in Toronto last week, camera in hand, and I see this huge sign saying: Biff's. Well, maybe not huge ... but prominent. Well ... see for yourself ...

Unfortunately, I had just enough time to take a few pics, rush inside and coax a business card out of a comely lass standing at a counter ready to seat those wishing to experience Biff's Bistro and Wine Bar. But I will say this ... the place had vibrations that sang a tune of class and pleasure far beyond the well-reasoned leer.

I'm back in New Brunswick now, but if you have a chance to eat at Biff's, please send me a message about it. Biff's is at 4 Front Street East, at Yonge.