31 October 2005
i immediately pulled the tab to get the blinking light glowing and shoved the pop in my mouth. i am wearing it right now, it looks damn good. note to those thinking of proposing marriage to me: your chances of succeeding are GREATLY increased if you present me with one of these.
a guy who's family made swords drew a picture of my friend at commonwealth.
my friend and i saw the same crazy lady screaming "i am a doctor! i am a married man!" at different times on the F.
i found (and bought) irish bacon in inwood.
a drunk yalie drove me crazy from 207 to 59th street talking about how hard his life is and how he is treated like a "slave" by Morgan Stanley. for clarification, he wasn't talking to me, but the 14oz of his 40oz that were already inside him was increasing the volume exponentially.
i was removing a longsleeve shirt from under a shortsleeve shirt on the street in dumbo and was halfway done when i gave directions to a russian woman in a car who thought the best way to brighton beach was over the brooklyn bridge.
i accidentally sent a text message containing some rather embarassing information to dodgeball, luckily, they did not dispatch it to all my friends.
i saw a bunny rabbit repeatedly rape a guinea pig.
it turns out that if a recipe for brunswick stew calls for five pounds of pork and chicken, it will yeild more stew than you have containers in which to store it.
brunswick stew is delicious, but i'm already sick of it.
brooklyn pennant ale is still available.
28 October 2005
and for an extra present, here's the complete works of shakespeare given the same treatment...
Ns stop at Dekalb
Rs over the bridge to Dekalb
and, holy shitballs:
F no diversions scheduled
you might actually get somewhere this weekend!
Safety reminder of the week: Please use handrails on stairs and escalators.
would i lie? staten island is cracking down on vandalism this hallowe'en and that means asking store owners not to sell products such as shaving cream and eggs to minors and they're urging them to hang posters and fliers pushing the "no eggs and shaving cream" message.
i heard on the radio that they were supposed to card anyone that looked under 27 (does that mean that 27 is the age at which egging and shaving creaming people is no longer fun?) and refuse to sell the verboten items to minors.
just in case you were wondering, this is retarded.
i will take this opportunity to say that a friend i saw in atlanta this weekend confessed to me that even though she hated it when i ate oatmeal in college, she's now addicted to it. i am one dangerous individual.
here's a quote that makes no sense:
I thought it was like a baker was making sugar or something and they left it burning
how many bakers do you know "make" sugar?
i took hold of life and for the last time (i'm guessing) until spring walked over the brooklyn bridge on my way home. i've been doing it a lot lately and it's really nice. but now it will be dark. and depressing.
anyway, i met above mentioned friend for the gowanus canal blues & cruise to benefit the dredgers, sos they can build a boathouse. good enough for me. they have super cute t-shirts, which i resisted. for $25 we got all you can eat bbq (sort of) and lots of brooklyn lager (yum!).
unfortunately, we got there a little "late" (it had started at 6, we got there around 7) and had missed the mac 'n' cheese, veggies and most of the mashed potatoes (i managed to scrape some off the tray). but there were amazingly delicious ribs, some very weird pork tacos, teeny tiny tasty hamburgers, chicken i didn't taste, veggie burgers i didn't taste and hot dogs i did taste that were also yummy.
they were doing boat rides on the canal but i was just too freaking cold for that shit. there was a pirate and a pretty fun "bluegrass & sebastian" band (my friend's words, not mine). the smell of fire and fall floated through the breeze and the bread pudding was cold by the time it got to the table, but still delicious. we hung out for about an hour, ate & drank our money's worth and then ran to the warming arms of brooklyn social. then the even more warming and closer-to-home arms of commonwealth. their new patio is the bomb. i can't wait for spring to come so we can use it!
also, wild cherry pepsi tastes pretty good with some balvenie.
27 October 2005
SET YOUR MOTHERFUCKING CLOCKS BACK BEFORE YOU GO TO BED ON SATURDAY.
actually, it's probably a better idea to set them back before you go out saturday...
this has been a public service announcement.
1 (24 oz.) can Brunswick Stew
1 lg. can Beef B.B.Q.
1 lg. can Pork B.B.Q.
1 can cream corn
1-2 tbsp. Worcestershire sauce
1/4 c. B.B.Q. Sauce
Mix all of the ingredients together and let come to a boil. Reduce heat and let simmer. The longer it simmers the better it tastes. You can also use a crock pot for this.
what, exactly, is "can beef bbq"? where does it come from? is it like potted meat food product? (and yes that is "pork brains in milk gravy" in the corner there. and i have to say, having "personal cleansing" and "food products" as links says you're a classy website.)
26 October 2005
i arrived late evening at hartsfield airport and was immediately reminded that the pace is different down here. people wander aimlessly through the whole airport. it's almost like they're trying not to get anywhere. there is absolutely no concept of "stand on the right" on escalators. it's more like: "stand on the left, put your bag on the step above you on the right and talk on the phone the whole ride". not that it particularly slowed me down, i was in no mood to walk up the escalator, but it was strange to see people scattered willy-nilly all over the stairs.
georgia welcomed me home with a thunderstorm. it was pretty cool seeing the lightning from the plane. i was hoping we'd get hit so i'd have something interesting to tell people when i got there: "yeah, the plane was struck by lightning, it was rad". no such luck.
saturday, i'd arranged to meet some friends from college "at that restaurant in the strip mall that didn't used to be there by glenridge". none of us could remember the name, but somehow we all knew where it was. it turned out to be the "new york deli". i warned them as we walked in that they would have to listen to me complain about how "that's not what xyz is like in new york". and i did. southern rye bread is bizarre. and not in a good way. they were out of corned beef hash (until the day i die i will not understand how this happened at 1130 on a saturday. and surely there's a publix or kroger nearby, go buy some!), and the waitress came over to tell me this and offered nothing in return. "we're out of corned beef hash" and that was the end of it. i think she didn't like me because i quizzed her on their tea selection. she brought out orange pekoe and i said i just wanted a black tea and what brand was it because i don't like lipton. blah blah, apparently she did not enjoy this.
it was kind of funny because the walls were decorated with brooklyn dodgers shit and pictures of the bridge. oh, and what we call the "lumberjack" breakfast up here is called "the great bambino" down there. go figure.
that night was the wedding. it was super swank and really fun. they had a rad band that cured me of having "boogie oogie oogie" stuck in my head for about three weeks when they played it. and when the couple were hoisted up for the Hora, they were both wearing the, "i think this is fun but i also think i might die rather soon" look on their faces reminiscent of someone's first ride on the Cyclone. they had a "martini" bar with an ice sculpture luge, which hadn't been properly measured and spewed fruity cocktails all over the place, usually missing the martini glass entirely. there were also deeeelicious lamb chops as hors d'ouvres, which i didn't mind whilst i was eating, but many of the black-tie wearing attendees found themselves walking around with lamb bones, wondering what the hell to do with them. i still managed to eat about 10.
i ran into specific gravity's own tampson at the wedding and we are soon to be launching (pending name availability) teamblog for your reading (and possibly listening) pleasure. we traded blog love and talked about rss feeds until we realized we were at a wedding talking about rss feeds and that we are nerds.
one of the highlights of the evening, at least for me, was when i lost a bobbie pin down the back of my dress and my best friend spent about three minutes with her hand down the back of my dress, whilst we were on the dancefloor--and dancing--fishing it out. (she was successful.)
we foraged for late-night drinks after the wedding ended and ended up at the bar of the palm. not my first choice generally, but it was in the same building as the wedding (read: the westin) and it was open. the bride & groom eventually made their way down and were very sweet and excited. and then they went, in their wedding gear, to dantana's, which used to be a Bennigan's. it was pretty fucking hot.
sunday there was a great deal of shopping. le crueset has an outlet and it is the closest thing to heaven i've seen.
sunday night a friend and i went to daddy d'z (nuts) for some bbq. it was pretty good but the chicken was dried out. it reminded me that i want to make some brunswick stew one of these days. just have to find the right recipe.
then we drove through atlantic station. it turns out the fireworks i'd seen from the plane (also v. cool) were for the grand opening of this monstrosity. it's the most ridiculous, frightening thing i've ever seen. a fake town, a mall you can live in, a place where nothing is real. it's real fucked up, people, that's about all i can say.
there was more shopping monday followed by tapas dinner. tuesday was the victory lap to WaHo, where everything kicked ass (including the "casa de waffle" hot sauce) except the fact that they stuck the waho logo into all the waffles. which is just kinda weird. then mommy made me a roast beef dinner and it was yumsters.
finally i got on the flight back to the place where they stand on the right and walk like there's somewhere to go. i sat down next to the window an d started playing with the piece of trash jammed under the shade. i was all excited that it would be a communique from the previous flight's passenger with all sorts of classified and interesting information, like who killed jfk and where babies come from; but when i finally dislodged it, the shade slammed shut. someone had stuck it up there to hold it open, and i replaced it. i then had a hearty chuckle (much to my seatmate's surprise and confusion) thinking about the people who would inevitably get on the plane, pull out the piece of crumpled up magazine, realize what it was there for and jam it right back.
i am pretty sure i am one of the first people to see snow this season. as we were landing, we passed through a mid-level snowstorm that clearly melted to rain by the time it hit the city. it was purty.
21 October 2005
the girls from Bakersfield, Calif., have been performing songs about white nationalism before all-white crowds since they were nine.
Lynx and Lamb have been nurtured on racist beliefs since birth by their mother April.
April's father surrounds the family with symbols of his beliefs — specifically the Nazi swastika. It appears on his belt buckle, on the side of his pick-up truck and he's even registered it as his cattle brand with the Bureau of Livestock Identification.
and in case you didn't pay enough attention there, he's even registered it as his cattle brand with the Bureau of Livestock Identification.
The lyrics praise [Rudolph] Hess as a "man of peace who wouldn't give up."
"Eleven and 12 years old," [Erich Gliebe] said, "I think that's the perfect age to start grooming kids and instill in them a strong racial identity."
April had decided that Bakersfield was not "white" enough, so she sold her home, and hopes that she and the girls can find an all-white community in the Pacific Northwest.
(it looks like things are moving again on the 6th & 8th ave lines, except at w4th itself.)
F trains: Coney bound running express from Jay to Church (i.e., Jay, 7th, Church)
Uptown trains skipping 14th & 23rd (and probably w4th)
N trains: stop at Dekalb Ave
R trains: over the bridge both ways (canal to dekalb)
oddly the "safety reminder of the week" is:
Safety reminder of the week
we got stopped at york street and told to get on the bklyn train to jay street and xfer to the ace. i figured i might as well stay where i was and i had about 20lbs on my back since i'm leaving town tonight so i wasn't really into a whole lot of changing trains, etc. but i ended up having to walk from york street to borough hall, which is fucking annoying. luckily the 4,5 was running and got me to work only 1 hour late.
please, give me my $1 weekend fares, it will make me feel so much better!
and now, the media:
20 October 2005
oh my god, beware, Logic ahead:
"There's no question that the most responsible use of the money would be to pay down the authority's unfunded pension liability. The M.T.A. is a monopoly service provider. If they want to buy good will, they should improve service."
just what kind of crazy talk is this? improve service you say? cut the pension liability? utter madness. no, we shall give a band aid and a licorice-flavored lollipop to the girl who's hand has been chopped off. do not, i repeat, do not, sew the hand back on!
and to make matters worse, the f i was riding on this morning pulled into the E platform at w4th and it was announced that it would be making all stops on the E line due to a stalled train at Spring Street. i love how the f just isn't that important. nooo, the E must be covered. screw people on the f.
i hate the mta.
There was no immediate indication of American casualties in addition to the civilian deaths. There was damage to at least one Humvee, said an Interior Ministry source
because we care about the iraqis, really we do.
19 October 2005
but the point is, we still have a chance to stop this idiocy from happening. the hearing was mainly to discuss things like how the sidewalk outside, the Gehry-designed concert hall in Los Angeles had exceeded 136 degrees. "Passing motorists were blinded by the glare, while pedestrians had to cross the street to avoid the intense heat," she said.
dddb has some handy-dandy info if you want to submit your own testimony to the impact the project will have on bklyn...
You may submit written testimony up until 5:00 p.m. on October 28th, either by mail to:Atlantic Yards
c/o Planning & Environmental Review
Empire State Development Corporation
633 Third AvenueNew York, NY 10017
or via email to:email@example.com
and, as per usual, i'd much rather see every cent going to cleaning up stations and improving the system overall...there's plenty that needs to be taken care of. i see how a lot of people are gonna get really excited over the idea of saving a few bucks a weekend, but it's sort of too little, too late. we're already used to paying $2 a ride, so just make the ride better.
The judge asked Mr. Hussein to say his full name. The exchange abruptly turned combative, with Mr. Hussein refusing to obey and instead launching into short criticisms of the immediate restrictions on him, such as an order preventing his lawyers from bringing pens and paper into the courtroom.
"You know me, because you are an Iraqi," Mr. Hussein said, adding, "I don't recognize the parties that appointed you to this court."
In all, Mr. Hussein could face charges for the killings of more than 300,000 people, mostly Shiites and Kurds.
18 October 2005
17 October 2005
put them in a ziploc bag with a little bit of wet paper towel. your shwag will be kind in no time.
due mostly to laziness, i hadn't eaten dinner that night and so whilst skipping home with my roommate and a friend, i decided to hit up a local bodega for their amazing bbq chicken sandwiches (read: the kind of food one only thinks about eating when drunk). i walked up to the window (the door was locked and they have one of those lazy susan type things) and asked the guy for four sannies...he was dancing around like he was in an ipod commercial and brandishing some object in his right hand. when he came closer to the window, he aimed said object at me and screamed with hysterical laughter. at first i thought it was a gun, but much to my, not-so-much-relief, it turned out to be a small axe. a hatchet if you will. or in cockney: "'atchet". however you pronounce it, it surprised the hell out of me.
what was really interesting was how this guy was just waving it around and giggling. despite ordering four bbq chicken sandwiches, we got home to discover that we had two fried chicken sandwiches and two cheeseburgers, which we ate anyway. during this meal, my roommate and i discussed the probablility that the clerk was a) on a lot of drugs, b) recently escaped from some state or federal institution, c) not actually an employee there, but a guy who brutally murdered the real clerk and threw his chopped up body in the beer cooler or d) all of the above.
the next day my roommate informed me that he'd been down to the deli below our apartment and asked about our missing again sunday times...turns out they again denied all knowledge of it. but it also turns out they saw me stealing (what i am 90% sure was) our sunday times back from their newspaper rack last weekend. so i think i can't go to the deli on my corner anymore...whoops.
best indoor bocce: floyd!!!
best mural at a burrito place: clemen's
best place to escape the 21st century: les tenement museum
best place to blah blah blah blah: melody lanes
best url-turned-verb: flavorpill
best view of backyard pools: f train btw. carroll & smith/9th st
best bar at the end of the universe: lillie's
best drunken scrabble: commonwealth
most savory slope carryout: kinara
best reason to eavesdrop: overheardinny
best bar to hear boney m while snacking on free pizza: capone's
best blog for knowing what scenster concerts to avoid every night: brooklynvegan
best landmark yet to be exploited: the high line
seems not only is it gonna be a gap, but a bloody gap fucking kids. behold the vomit rising in my throat.
it's always been really nice living in park slope, we only have two starbucks, two mcdonald's, two subways, a quiznos and the b&n in terms of mega-chains (i suppose the numbers go up if you count 3rd & 4th ave...) and for the most part both 5th and 7th avenue have their own character. but a gap signals a very bad turn in my opinion. hopefully i'm just overreacting.
anyway otbkb also has this handy-dandy list of what's changing in the 'hood:
THE CIRCLE GAME: OPENINGS, CLOSINGS, CHANGES, AND RELOCATIONS:
--Beet. Thai Cuisine. Seventh Avenue betwee 9th and 10th (Opening October 18)
--Something new. Seventh Avenue between 13th and 14th (Opening in Nov.)
--Toy Space. Seventh Avenue between 14th and 15th Street (Now Open)
--The Gap. 13th and Fifth Avenue. In the old Salvation Army (Opening TBA)
--Perch, a new restaurant on Fifth Avenue between 5th and 6th Streets (opening soon).
--Rare Device: 453 Seventh Avenue (in the process of opening).
--Expansion of D'Vine Taste. Seventh Avenue nr. Garfield (in progress).
--What's going in between Union and Berkeley??? (anyone know?)
--Good Footing on Seventh Avenue at Union is GONE!
--Brooklyn Industries on Seventh Avenue near 9th Street (Now open)
--Living on Fifth. Fifth Avenue between 3rd and 4th Streets (Now open)
--The Black Pearl. Union Street between 7th and 6th Avenue (Now open)
--Rachel's Taqueria on Fifth Avenue between 6th & 7th Sts. (Now open)
--What's gone in instead of Cornbread Cafe? (Does this mean Cornbread closed and i didn't even notice??)
--Microchip Cafe moved into the same storefront as the Car Service on 1st between Seventh and Sixth Avenue (Now open).
in other (and far more important) news, the gate is serving pumkinhead ale, and brooklyn social is hawking what i think is a sixpoint pumkin...
we headed downtown to bar 169 for a drink. one drink too many. what is perhaps the worst band in the entire world was on when we got there, the aptly named "tiger vomit". i am a notoriously slow beer drinker--we were out of there in 15 minutes.
eventually i found myself waiting for a friend at brooklyn social club. it's been quite some time since i went to a bar on my own on a friday night. it's so interesting to watch how people respond to you. a few people came over and started chatting. one guy and i decided we would start making it impossible to let others pass between us by standing at just the wrong angle and proximity. i chatted with him and his friends for a while.
when i finally got an empty seat at the bar, the bartender looked at me and said, "i understand". i didn't, really. did he understand that i was just there waiting on a friend, contentedly watching the others around me? did he think i was being stood up, that i was 'drinking alone', that i just wanted to be left entirely alone? it made me wonder. one guy at the end of the bar kept smiling at me, despite the fact that i never smiled back. i suppose it wasn't the nicest reaction, but i didn't have the energy to talk to a stranger.
my friend arrived, and throughout the evening we were entertained by various men in various states of drunkenness offering up interesting conversation and all sorts of services. the bartender, who turned out to be super cool, was always looking out for us. when one guy, who i see at social aaaaallll the time, started talking to us, he said to me "let me know if someone's leaning over too far". it's nice when they get your back like that. i asked that guy his name, but i can't for the life of me remember. he was followed by a completely wankered brit called sammy. i suppose he was a regular as well, because the barman shot me a look when he came over that said, "just let me know..." it wasn't an if with sammy, but a when.
and it came like this: after i made some comment about the town he was from being sort of shitty (don't worry, he couldn't have cared less), he said to me, "i would have sex with you whatever you said". and that he would have, had he even a chance in hell with me or my friend, and assuming he wasn't so drunk he couldn't get it up. a few minutes later, we were still insulting the hell out of the guy when he declared, "i would love to go down on either one of you." i'm sure you know what happened next: my friend and i paid the tab, grabbed sammy and took him back to my place, where he pleasured us for the next 15 hours. actually, barman extraordinaire suggested sammy leave us alone, and he did. i was still laughing and saying, "i would love to go down on either one of you" 20 minutes later. god bless drunk people who say stupid things.
not more than 10 minutes later, some new guys had come along and for reasons beyond both my control and comprehension, i started talking to them in an irish accent. who knows?
in my grogginess, i only vaguely noticed the increased frequency of stops and lengthy rests in the stations. but as the f train pulled into 14th street, the conductor came over the PA and said, without any further explanation, "this train is out of service". and with that hundreds of sleepy, annoyed, confused yet still apathetic new yorkers emerged from the train and looked at each other. i started to wonder if maybe i should just hop a downtown train, go back home and reunite with my duvet.
most of us figured we'd just wait for the next train, but the voice from above recommended we all get on a downtown f train and take it to west 4th, where we could transfer to an uptown d (the people trying to get to 23rd street had a major nightmare ahead of them, i'm hoping they just walked). so we all went up the stairs and walk along the corridor to change to uptown, when we hear our defunct f pull out of the station. "surely, there'll be another train along in a moment," i thought. so i went back downstairs to the uptown platform. and in comes a v, which luckily, gets me nearer to my job than the f. we then proceeded to make excruciatingly slow progress until i got to my stop no fewer than 25 minutes late. hurrah mta!
14 October 2005
G no action between smith/9th, hoyt-schermerhorn
N stops at dekalb both ways
R over the bridge both ways
and don't forget:
Carry babies and folded strollers on the stairs.
Many Sunni parties oppose the text, and have called on Iraqis to boycott the poll or vote "No".
Earlier this week, the Islamic Party said it would encourage Sunnis to support the constitution after Shia and Kurdish political leaders agreed to consider further revisions after elections in December.
Sunni leaders fear the current proposals may lead the country to split, with a Kurdish north and Shia south, depriving Sunni Arabs of access to the country's oil resources.
yesterday, whilst sitting in synagogue and then at home fasting, i had my first bout of the year with ice hands and nose. i think i have super shitty circulation, and that causes my hands and nose (and, if not encased in socks & shoes, feet) to turn into pieces of ice. sometimes i put my hand on my stomach just to shock myself with how cold it is.
either way, it's times like this--before the heat comes on in our apartment, and while i still have short-sleeved shirts in my ready-to-wear pile--that i hate living in park slope. because lots of people in park slope have fireplaces, and they taunt me with the fragrance of burning wood and images of warmth.
when i was growing up in atlanta we had a fireplace, and i was constantly asking my parents if i could build a fire. many times i was told it was simply too warm outside for a fire. (for the record, i don't think 68 is warm.) when i lived on 7th ave and 1st street in a hellhole above starbucks, we had a fireplace, but all it did was sit gaping and useless--it was capped.
two, no, three fireplaces burn in my heart when i smell that smell of heated brick...make that four...in order of impressiveness:
1) the north rim of the grand canyon.
i'm pretty sure this is the fireplace to end all fireplaces. although i was young and smaller when i was there, i'm still confident that it was roughly ten feet high and about 18 feet wide and they burned redwood logs in it. it faces outside, onto a terrace which is populated by rocking chairs. my dad and i sat out on a very clear, starry night and rocked and looked at the fire as it thrust its warmth out into the night air. the giantest fire i've ever seen. someday i will build my own.
2) my uncle's hunting camp
you're not allowed up without a member of the hunting club, which is truly unfortunate, because given the chance i would round up about 25 of my closest drinking buddies and tear this place up. it's a mish mosh of old furniture from members' houses, black & white photographs of ancestral hunters, bunk beds and a huge kitchen with, oh yes, a "beer fridge". but the focal point of the cabin is the fireplace, again vast, about four feet high and six wide, i'd say. not only is the fireplace huge, but being a hunting camp, the logs are big, burly, manly logs. the fire is encouraged to rage to just before the point it licks out of its cage and takes us all down. "beer fridge"
3) my aunt and uncle's house
this is much more along the lines of a regular fireplace, the only difference being that the firebox sticks out from the house, allowing for a much deeper than usual place to burn stuff. my uncle also rigged some thing that you open a sort of trap door and it pulls in air from outside, feeding the fire constantly with fresh o2. further, my uncle, a retired LIRR safety inspector, made the raddest log-holder-thingy ever out of railroad tracks. they are giant and solid and one day i will build a fire so great they will turn red. maybe. my aunt and uncle will let me start a fire when it's 68, because they keep thier air con at 50.
4) my great aunt's house in maine
my mother's aunt is amazing. she's travelled all over the goddamn place and owns two remarkable properties. she and a friend, many years ago, bought up a recently-abandoned resort in the tiniest town possible in maine. litterally, the town is a post office, which isn't even operational anymore. anyway, they kept one of the buildings and converted the downstairs from all bedrooms into a kitchen and living room, etc. (this was one of those seriously old school places that had a dining hall and a rec room (which is still standing) and various other building with just sleeping quarters.) and now she spends her summers there. we went there almost yearly for a lot of my childhood. the house only had heating in the kitchen and bathrooms, and since it was a summer resort, was certainly nowhere near insulated; but the fireplace's chimney ran up through the second floor and if you burned enough wood long enough, it would do a pretty fair job of taking the chill out of the air in the whole house. the fireplace is lovely brick and decorated with all sorts of random maine trinkets, but the greatest thing about it is how it was actually functional. it was necessary to build a fire in that thing, or we'd all be freezing.
so now i come home under my umbrella, kicking water onto my calves, hands 20 degress colder than the rest of my body, and i see whisps of smoke coming out of chimneys, and i smell that smell, and i wish i had a fireplace.
12 October 2005
i know all three of you out there reading will be heartbroken, but this will be it until friday. i am leaving early and someone found a bunch of work for me to do today. tomorrow i will be atoning my ass off for all the sarcasm and bitchiness i've amassed over the last year. forgive me, i'm forgiving (most of) you.
see you friday.
11 October 2005
my online loves waxy and lifehacker are both on the ball with these new google subway maps...it's like all there and stuff. you just roll over the place and it tells you what stop it is. it's super helpful if you're going somewhere new and you're not sure which stop is nearest. yeah!
my friend over at specific gravity found the hangover rating system from about.com...
One Star Hangover
No pain. No real feeling of illness. Your sleep last night was a mere disco nap, which has given you a whole lot of misplaced energy. Be glad that you are able to function relatively well. However, you are still parched. You can drink 10 sodas and still feel this way. You are craving a steak bomb and a side of gravy fries.
Two Star Hangover
No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you have the mental capacity of a staple gun. The coffee you are chugging is only exacerbating your rumbling gut, which is craving a rootie tootie fresh and fruity pancake breakfast from IHOP. There is some definite havoc being wreaked upon your bowels.
Three Star Hangover
Slight headache. Stomach feels crappy. You are definitely not productive. Anytime a girl walks by you gag because her perfume reminds you of the random gin shots you did with your alcoholic friends after the bouncer 86'd you at 1:45 a.m. Life would be better right now if you were in your bed with a dozen donuts and a meatball hero watching the E! fashion awards. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 3 Snapples and a liter of diet coke, yet you haven't peed once.
Four Star Hangover
Life sucks. Your head is throbbing. You can't speak too quickly or else you might puke. Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but that can't hide the fact that you missed an oh-so crucial spot shaving, (girls, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the bumper cars.) Your eyes look like one big vein and your hair style makes you look like a reject from the class picture of Grover Cleveland HS, class of '84.
Five Star HangoverAKA "Dante's 4th Circle of Hell."
You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying the employee who sits in the next cube. Vodka vapor is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth in an attempt to get the remnants of the shit fairy out. Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is suffocating you. Death seems pretty good right now. You definitely don't remember who you were with, where you were, what you drank and why there is a stranger still sleeping in your bed at your otherwise empty house.
Six Star Hangover
Otherwise known as the "Infinite Nut smacker" You wake up on your bathroom floor. For about 2 seconds you look at the ceiling, wondering if the cool refreshing feeling on your cheek is the bathroom tile or your vomit from 5 hours ago. It is amazing how your roommate was as drunk as you, but somehow managed to get up before you. You try to lift your head. Not an option. Then you inadvertently turn your head too quickly and smell the funk of 13 packs of cigarettes in your hair. Suddenly you realize you were smoking, but not ultra lights... some jackass handed you Marlboro reds, and you smoked them like it was your second full time job. You look in the mirror only to see remnants of the stamp "Ready to Rock" faintly atop your forehead... the stamp on the back of your hand that has magically appeared on your forehead by alcoholic osmosis. You have to be to work in t-minus 14 minutes and 32 seconds and the only thing you can think of wearing is your "hello kitty" pajamas and your slippers.
demetri martin, a pretty funny comedian who's getting a lot of press these days (he also mced the coney island across the narrows shows) was also there. i wanted to say something but instead i just tapped him on the shoulder because he was blocking the doorway.
and why is it that when someone says 'wanna go to buttermilk?' on the way home from the city i say 'yes'?
10 October 2005
who's with me?
but i would have to earn it. friday brought another birthday party. the husband of the woman who is responsible for some of my more intense hangovers brought me to the magician for the first time in i don't know how long. partying with the brits is always dangerous work, but i managed to hold myself to a strict "no shots" rule, which made for a much less brutal hangover. for reasons i will never understand, we ventured down to happy ending around 3 am. i do not and will not ever see the appeal of this place. it is ridiculously humid inside and the jew in me couldn't help but be a little freaked out by the showerheads everywhere. still, we stayed until we were forced to slog outside and get some taxi action home.
arriving home at 5 am, i threw open my window as wide as the air conditioner would let me and fell into bed listening to the heavy drops falling on the trees and street outside. bliss.
i awoke around 10 for no apparent reason. immediately the telly went on and i assumed the position on the couch. a friend came over and we dispatched a roommate to get flour and chocolate chips, because we were gonna eat us some chocolate chip cookies. and that we did. along with some annie's mac & cheese with avocado, which, at that moment, was the best food ever. there was just nothing left in me. i couldn't move, could barely talk. i was capable only of aiming my glazed eyeballs toward the flashing light from the tv. but we decided anyway to venture out to see the squid & the whale, which was playing at our local "home of noah baumbach" movie theatre. NB writes near-perfect dialogue and i'm even venturing to say every actor in that movie, aside from anna paquin who, for no apparent reason, drives me nuts, did a brilliant job. that was really about all the activity i could handle for one day.
sunday was slightly more productive...i started the day with a visit to the gym, and on my way home i noticed while we didn't have our sunday times, the deli downstairs was sporting one of those unmistakable blue bags. i figured maybe my roommate had already got up and gotten ours, so i left it there. but he hadn't. so when i went back out a little later, i went into the deli, which was now open and which no longer boasted a times, and asked if they'd seen it. "no, no", they said. i'm a pretty good detector of bullshit and these rats were lying. i couldn't for the life of me figure out why anyone would steal half the sunday times. they couldn't re-sell it or anything. so i went up to another shop to buy cream, which my deli doesn't have, and to blue apron foods, which has my favorite heart-attack inducing brie. on my way back, i noticed that on the newspaper stand outside, which normally housed only the post, the sun, the daily news and the park slope courier, was a lone, once-folded sunday paper. or, half the sunday paper. i looked right at them though the door and took it back. my cornershop is stealing our newspaper and lying about it. what is this world coming to?
i made tomato basil soup and ate about 1/8th of a pound of brie. then i watched the braves and the astros engage in one of the most exhausting games of baseball ever. which, of course, the braves lost. although my "fuuuuuck" rang out for probably a couple block radius, at least now i don't have to pay attention to it anymore. i don't like any of the teams left. i'll go for the cards, i guess.
and what better way to spend the end of a lazy weekend is there than to order in thai food and watch the office christmas special?
07 October 2005
props to stereogum
F no stoppa at smith/9, carroll & bergen (manhattan-bound)
G no comin'a past hoyt/schermerhorn
N stops at dekalb both ways
R over the bridge both ways
Safety lesson for this week:
Watch the gap.
"I can't imagine why anyone would turn down the opportunity to headline at the Apollo," Democrat Ferrer said
Ognibene threw a softball: "What kind of arrogance does it take for a mayor not to show up at the first mayoral debate?"
"I think what everybody today is going to be focused on is the Yankees," he added.
The Yankees did not play last night.
eveyone's up mayor b's ass because he snubbed the black community by not going to the debate at the apollo. i'm pretty sure he snubbed every single new yorker.
the bible. you can now text the bible.
and they've done it in that horrible text-speak. is it soooo hard to spell out all the words? i manage to punctuate and spell mine correctly (unless, of course, i'm drunk).
who does this? what the hell is going on?
and other, older, stupid bible news.
06 October 2005
Citing Slow Summer Box Office, Hollywood Calls It Quits
and my apologies to my telly.
then yesterday i realized i was sick and slept all day. (glorious.)
in bigger news, our bocce team won its first game of the season, which means we are going to be kicking all kinds of ass over the next couple of months.
in more annoying news, los bravos sucked up turner field yesterday afternoon.
03 October 2005
1 qt. ready Borscht
8 oz. sour cream
8 oz. plain yogurt
Mix sour cream and yogurt on medium speed until blended. Add Borscht slowly, blend. Refrigerate.
You'd think a recipe for Borscht might not call for a qt. of "ready made" borscht...rather, it would tell you how to acutally make the shit yourself. guess not...L'shana Tova!
I made a vat of borsch...it was not that difficult and ended up tasting pretty good. unfortunately i combined about five differenc recipes to get what i made, so i'll never be able to duplicate it. but it seemed to go over well at the dinner. which, like larry david, i left before dessert...sorry!
Rilo Kiley are very good live.
Jenny Lewis is a ham.
Built to Spill are also very good live.
Built to Spill played "while my guitar gently weeps" very nicely.
Built to Spill do not like the current administration.
Vinnie Jones's physical and spiritual doppelganger is the lead singer of Gang of Four.
Gang of Four do not like microwaves.
Kim Deal can play bass with a cigarette in her hand.
The Pixies will never play "dig for fire".
There was a lot of eighties nostalgia in Coney Island this weekend.
Eighties nostalgia needs to stop asap.
Dragonette wear white suits.
Except for the drummer, who wears a t-shirt that says "Dragonette" on it.
White suits make me dislike you.
Dragonette's music is still pretty catchy.
The Ravonettes were very tired.
The Polyphonic Spree are creepy.
Nothing and no one will convince me otherwise.
The Polyphonic Spree do, however, use a theremin and blow bubbles.
But all the ladies in the group have the same haircut.
Belle & Sebastian are twee and I love every minute of it.
I still know all the words to "Loser".
Beck does, in fact, still play "Loser".
Sometimes right after I ask my friend if he ever plays it.
Beck has a band that can play glasses.
The people like dancing to the Beck.
Beer is not overpriced at Keyspan Park.