31 March 2006

ethiopian food: good; theatregoers: annoying as fuck

last night the maj and i went to studio 54 to see threepenny opera.

sadly, the show kinda sucked. it lacked pizazz, panache, elan, a sense of humor, timing...i could go on. i was severely disappointed in alan cumming's lack of enthusiasm for his role. i was expecting him to really bring out a wickedness with a twinkle in his eye, but it wasn't there.

so, there were two overly annoying theatre whores in front of us. those kinds of people who live near lincoln center and talk about stuff like it's really important even though it's not? it's a damn shame my knee kept bumping into their chairs (seriously, though, there is like NO legroom in that place. beware if you are over 6'.). also, one woman was yelling at another woman to put her candy away because "we paid to hear the music, not you unwrapping your candy" (repeat ad nauseum)--during the fucking INTERMISSION. let the bitch eat her candy bar, you stupid blue-dress-wearing cunt. then she said "go back to new jersey", which is just fucking obnoxious as obnoxious gets. i know it's ha ha funny to joke about jersey, but for real, this freak of nature takes this smug manhattan attitude like she knows how to act at the theatre (oh, yeah, she also peppered her little speech with "so selfish", no matter that she was the one being annoying and disruptive to everyone else's mediocre at best theatre experience.) and this woman must be from somewhere else because she dared eat a fucking chocolate bar at fucking intermission! here's the best part, though, the candy offender was all "i'm not from new jersey" and devil in the blue dress's retort: "long island, then". you're one clever bitch, ain'tcha?

studio 54 is awesome. i wondered if i licked the walls if i might get high, but did not try it. majola and i had some rad ethiopian food beforehand on 48th and 10th i think...BOMB! that shit was so good!

the super late birthday story

let's start just after we left 12" on friday...i got home and xy did something (surprise) to annoy me. i took it upon my birthday self to inform him i was going to spit toothpaste (i was brushing my teeth) on his head. he seemed to like this idea and encouraged me to do so. he told me he'd like to see me try do that. and i obliged. yes, i spit toothpaste on my roommate's head. that's just the kind of gal i am.

NB: xy has a shaved head, so a quick rinse (well, first a headbutt/smear all over my sweater was in order) solved the problem in a matter of seconds.

saturday morning i woke up to find xx preparing a lovely birthday surprise: bruschetta, a loaf of bread, brie, goat cheese, olives and some sort of pesto artichoke thing. she then told me how she'd mentioned to a co-worker that the majority of her gift to me was cheese and how said co-worker did not seem to think that was a very impressive gift. i did, however, think it was impressive.

there was much sitting around and being hungover that day, as for some reason the four or five or six beers i'd had the night before were all still lodged in my brain. unfortunate.

carson, xx, xy, the maj and i ate some fantastic food at scottadito osteria toscana, which is on Union st between 6&7th or 5&6th and is totally worth the trip wherever you are. great decor, nice staff, insanely good food. good wines. it was sweet. (they are part of dine-in brooklyn next week and have pretty reasonable prix fixe all the time as well as a brunch about which xy won't shut up.)

it was with great panic that i and my cohorts headed into the city...i was already 1/2 an hour late for my own shit. i knew no one would be there, but as i would end up being an hour late, i figured people would be there by then... and they were. but it's ok, cause it was my motherfucking birthday.

there were only a few people at mona's when we got there, so that was comforting. it was roasting hot in there. luckily there was plenty of cheap beer to cool us off! whew!

the gift unwrap...
cartons of cigarettes received: 3 (note: this does actually disturb me a little)
bunches of flowers received: 3
bunches of flowers received from absolute strangers: 1
$5 in juke songs received from aboslute strangers: 1
chicago manuals of style squealed like a girl over: 1
cds/dvds: 5
india-related items: 5
winning lottery tickets: 1
tiaras worn: 1

sunday was possibly the most pathetic day in the history of my life. carson got up and went to walk around the village, i slept. on her way home, carson got us bagels, which is one of the many reasons we love her so. then, uh. cheese. and television. and a nap. and some more cheese. and also tv again. and eventually thai food. and couch-based brownie baking supervision. i did shower, which is pretty fucking impressive in my opinion, but i also returned immediately to pyjamas afterwards. and, as coach dodgeball so perfectly said it, getting "hosed with a repeat grey's anatomy". bastards.

30 March 2006

did you ever see that population video?

in high school or whatever...it was a map of the world and a heartbeat and it started with a few thousand bc and went up to the present, showing how many people were in the world. (my favorite part was during the plague, when it actually went down instead of up.) anyway, here's a similar idea, showing how many coalition troops have been killed in iraq...uplifting, i know.


29 March 2006

i know, someday, the spring will return again

back in the old days of web surfing, before i knew how much shit there was to read out there and before i got an rss to tell me just how much of it i was not reading, i used to thumb through craigslist missed connections. here and there you'd find something funny. and once in a while your roommate would put a fake one in there for you, or the guy you met at the bar actually put a real one in there for you, which you missed and didn't find again until the next time you saw him and he insisted he put one up and you didn't believe him and the very same roommate who put the fake one up was the one who found it.

and sometimes you find something as simple and beautiful as this:

mc with winter

yes, i definitely have this problem

Hearing loss has been called a loss of intimacy, because as hearing acuity declines, the ability to pick out a voice over background noise is one of the first things to go. The hearing-impaired often sit there nodding politely, effectively zoned out from conversations because they get sick of asking, "What?"

shit. i was just thinking about this last night when jensenator was talking to me at the elected/magic numbers show and i couldn't hear what he was on about. and in bars, i'm always like "what's that again?" poo. i am losing my hearing!

the show, again at bloody webster hall...interesting sidenote, though:
when i was in st. lucia over xmas i saw this weird long fish with like spots or stripes or something. i mentioned it to my parents, cause i hate creatures of the sea in general and was grossed out by a fish being that close to my body. my dad kind of chuckled and didn't say much until later when he mentioned that's a close description to a barracuda. you know, those fish that will eat the fuck out of you?!?! anyway, we got to the show super duper early and went upstairs, where there are fish tanks at the bar. and lo and behold! barracuda in the fishtank. and guess what? that motherfucker i saw in st. lucia was one of those flesh eating sons of bitches.

anyway, blake sennett. what the fuck, kid? the hat: not so much. the jacket: not so much. the moustache?!? i leaned over to the jensenator and said "does blake sennett have like a super shitty moustache?" because it was so crap i couldn't even tell if it was real. it's one of those pencil thin ones. NO!!! no, i say. (in all seriousness, dude looks pederastastic.)

as for their musical performance, it was OK. their guitarist is AWESOME. he is clearly the most talented dude, except perhaps for the keyboarder, who i could neither see nor hear very well (see above), and so may well be very, very good. but the guitarist was rad. jensenator liked the drummer.

anyhoo, i wish i could remember more about the rilo kiley performance at across the narrows, cause all i remember is jenny lewis being a ham. cause last night old BS sure gave her a run for her money. it was kind of cute and unnerving at the same time. either way, i kind of disappointed in the show. :(

the magic numbers, for all the poppy goodness on their album and the clearly positive attitude possessed by all the members of the band, failed to get me too riled up last night. they were fairly static on stage. and while their almost inhuman synchronization was certainly impressive, it was kind of the only exciting thing going on. it was like listening to the album really loud, on shuffle.

then i found out we lost our bocce game. then i hated the mta because the r train went out of service at canal and i got the q to dekalb and there were crews in BOTH tunnels, which is a sure sign you will not get home within the hour. so i went upstairs and jumped in a cab. (thank god for birthday cash!)

j-e-l-l-spinal cord!

today's food-based bag of rocks continues with some jelly-like substance fixing the shit out of people's spinal injuries.

Hydrogels resemble the soft tissue that surrounds a human spinal cord as it develops in the womb, Jendelova said. Neurons grow through pores in the material, creating a scaffold that supports delicate cells. The pores are also large enough to allow the transmission of chemical signals that orchestrate neural development.

Jendelova believes hydrogels' physical properties, which are similar to those of Jell-O, increase the likelihood that stem cells will integrate successfully with existing spinal tissue.


scientists have fucked with bacon and made it not so god awful for you!!!

london london london london london

five london webcams! live. watch the busses go by, see the eye rotate, see people by off-price theatre tickets!

28 March 2006

and some more tunage

jerry put up two mp3s of this sono oto band, and they are pretty fucking appealing. so i found this cheat sheet where you can hear a bit more of their 2004 album, I'm in August till July. i guess a new ep is due any minute.

incidentally, the m's played after joemca last night. due to the fact that i have apparently gotten a new allergy for my birthday, i went home before they came on. jerry went, and didn't sound too stoked, so i don't feel so bad (aside from the watery eyes and the sniffles).

i like band of horses, too!!

last monday i received my freshly pressed copy of the band of horses new hotness. bloggers the world over have since been singing their praises. (pitchfork gave it an 8.8, so you know what that means.) anyway, bv directs you to a stream, so you can listen to the album and see how you feel about it. i'll tell you this much, if you like built to spill and/or my morning jacket, you'll at least want to listen twice.

i heart bowery ballroom

jensenator, carson and i went to the books show at bowery ballroom on friday.

we saw one death vessel song. weird. weird weird weird. girly hair, girly voice, boyey boy. they seemed ok.

jose gonzalez came out and waded quietly through a set of 8 or 9 songs, i think. it made me sleepy. it's pretty music and he played it beautifully, but it's just so mellow. the crowd went nuts when he played "heartbeats" and i think he played another cover but i didn't recognize it or maybe that's when i went to the bathroom or to smoke or something.

in between sets, i ran into n'orleans at the bar. the bar at bowery is so awesome. if you really hate the fuck out of an opener you can be in a totally different world in that bar.

so, the books. i have a few of their songs and i've listened to some stuff on limewire. i was unprepared for this shit. two guys, one cello, one guitar, a shitload of samples and some of the best accompanying video i've ever seen, including one of spliced together shots of old timey mormons taking their hats off, some jellyfish, some animals, a lot of anagrams and phoenetically spelled phrases and some other stuff i don't remember. either way it was FUCKING AWESOME. i kid you not, i kept looking around me and everyone was grinning the whole way through the show. it was a joyous occasion. fucking awesome. they're coming again in may to northsix and the world financial center, and i will be at one if not both of those shows.

sadly, the books are damn near impossible to locate on the internet due to their MORONICALLY COMMONPLACE NAME, ahem, so i can't really direct you anywhere to do anything. i can't even find their album on sale. luckily they had it at the show and jensenator gave me the two he had for the old birthday.

since the clock had struck twelve whilst we were at the show, we hopped over to 12" for a birthday drink for me!!! hooray! then we went home.

the lengths to which i will go in order to assure i will be admited to a bar or allowed to drink at a gig

so friday i tooketh the day offeth to a) renew my driver's license and b) greet carson on her c. 130 pm arrival.

i got to the dmv around 9 i guess, i wasn't paying attention to time because it didn't matter to me, oh blissful day off. whilst in line, i was able to get a good look at some of the lovlier specimens of my favorite borough. top of the pile was a guy with a north face backpack and an encye jacket who had zero qualms about, uh, i'm gagging just thinking about it, spitting on the floor (and the posts that hold up the 'create-a-zig-zaggy-line' thingies) and then smearing it around the floor with his boot. this, in case you didn't know, is absolutely disgusting.

the woman behind me, who came bearing the largest book of soduku puzzles i've ever, ever seen, kept commenting on how disgusting it was in that passive agressive new york way. i just concentrated on trying not to vomit every time he did it.

when the guy got to the front of the line, he turned and addressed us: "i don't appreciate you women coming here and standing in line and talking shit about men" "don't talk shit about men", etc. and so on. remember, now, we're at the dmv, so just because he's at the front of the queue does in no way mean he will be going off to get whatever he came for anytime soon. this goes on for about five minutes, when i finally decide, the next time he says that i'm going to tell him i don't appreciate him coming here and spitting all over the floor, that's just gross. but he would not oblige me, he kept his mouth shut until he was called. i was really excited about that, too.

this was the first in a number of disappointing and bizarre occurences i was in store for that day.

i got to the info desk and the guy asked me for my social security card and passport...somehow i'm anal enough to find and fill out the form before i even get to the dmv, but i miss the part on the site where it tells me that i need two points of identification and a social security card. huh. bummer.

where, you may wonder, are my passport and social security card? now they are both in my shoulder bag (my passport serving as my photo id for the mo'), then, however, my passport was at my apartment. my social security card was, of course, in my desk. at work. i live in park slope, and work in midtown, and i was at the dmv at atlantic avenue.

i went home. i went back to the dmv, hoping against hope that maybe a passport would be sufficient proof that i was a 27-year-old white chick with no criminal record.

i got on the 4 train to head into the city after being told that no, a passport won't cut it. i need both. (NB: they do give you a lovely slip of paper that allows you to butt straight to the front of the line when you insist on pulling bonehead move after bonehead move, so that really cut down on the timing of everything) ok, so what happens when you're riding the 4 train around 11 am?

one large white guy keeps calling a much younger black guy an "asshole", to which the black guy responds "shut up, nigga', just shut up. why don't you do something about it, pussy?" the younger black guy is surrounded by friends who are alternately egging him on and trying to calm him down. they are at one doorway of the car, and the large white guy is one and a half doors away from them. so this is all very loud and attracting quite a bit of attention from all of the passengers.

eventually, it escalates when the large white guy first asks them if the kids are in school, to which they reply "yes", then he asks why aren't they in school now, which i suddenly realize is a very logical question as it is 11am on a friday. then the large white guy says they are all dumb. this strikes a nerve and the head of the kids is pushing his way down the carriage towards the large white guy. multiple passengers are trying to stop him as he walks through, but fail. evenutally they are standing face to face, save for the 100% stoic guy in between them who refuses to acknowledge either of them. of course, now is when everyone panics and moves away from these three, even though it's pretty clear that both of the antagonists are pussies and nothing at all will happen.

this part was kind of funny, because there they are, right next to each other, all the spectators backed up to a safe distance, but neither one really wants to do anything so they have a shouting match which can't even escalate because they've already been shouting at each other for 20 minutes. finally, the younger kid gets pulled back by his gang, yelling all the way and the large white guy gets off at the next stop. they are still thowing insults as the doors close.

they wouldn't shut the fuck up for the next three stops about it. "why'd you pull me off?" "you heard him, son, you should'a let me have at him", etc. it got to the point where i found myself, for the second time that day (and it's still early) contemplating yelling at someone for irritating the shit out of me. thankfully, they got off.

i made it back to the dmv and waited for the picture, and then for the eye test and finally left with a piece of paper that does me absolutely no good. i don't drive, i drink. i need a photo id.

23 March 2006

and a happy birthday to me

the following email exchange took place between the hours of 4 and 5 pm, on the day before i take the day off:

apple brandy: and yes, this gum is completely hateful. I feel like I just licked fifty legal size envelopes.
wild cherry sara: hahah. at least you dont have the papercuts to go with it.
apple brandy: Right, because blood and envelope glue are NOT two great tastes that taste great together.
apple brandy: Huh, was that overly nasty? I can do much better than that. But I won't. because you are obviously too delicate
wild cherry sara: it just surprised me. gimme all you got, woman.
what happens if you give your tongue a papercut and a little piece of your tongue gets sliced off and sticks to the glue and ends up getting mailed to the client and they open the package and they don't even know it, but there's a little piece of your tongue.

apple brandy: Nice.
And as the client opens the package, one of her hands brushes against the part where your tongue piece is lodged. The tongue piece is momentarily transferred to the client's hand AND THEN the client picks up the cadbury crème egg that she was eating before the mail came. Long story short, your tongue piece ends up in the client's mouth and she swallows it along with the runny crème egg filling.

wild cherry sara: but not before she getsa paper cut by opening the envelope which also tore the tongue piece in half and half of the tongue slips in through the parted pieces of skin and lodges there. and a tongue GROWS OUT OF HER HAND
apple brandy: Wow. You win.

well, that's it from this immature, 27 year old wcs. i'll be back on monday with some serious thoughts to ponder. unless i'm too busy doing work. BWAHHHHahAhAHAH

me netflix son su netflix

xy just sent me this article in ny magazine, which i somehow missed when flipping through the hard copy i have right next to me, but no matter, about SHITTY POSTMEN STEALING (among other things) OUR NETFLIX. we now have them sent to xy's office because we literally reported about every other disc missing.

this is a timely discovery because this very saturday, xx and i came home from the gym to find "crash" on the floor just inside our door (read: flung through the mail slot). no envelope, no explanation. just a bare, uber scratched up disc. but we both remember that we reported crash missing twice. and this was before it won the academy award.

funnier and stranger still was the time we found one of xx's edumacational dvd's (some crap about genocide or some such depressing topic) in the mailbox (which is rarely, if ever, used) in only the sleeve with the descripition. the red netflix envelope was no where to be found. plus, we'd reported the damn thing missing over a week before. our mail man is such a fucking tool box.

it's not the fall that hurts

yeah, so monday we had a bocce game. a game we lost. again. what happened to us?

actually, our opposition were super good. and we held our own against them. we were scoring 1 for 1 almost the whole way through the first game, which i blew on my last roll. jeez, i can't even remember if we won the second game or not. i think we might have. but it's all beside the point, because we lost in the end.

in happier news, i did find out that there is a floyd II opening sometime this spring--on the corner of 5th and union en el slopo. with TWO floors, and TWO bocce courts and OUTDOOR SEATING. goodbye everywhere else, i'm moving in. (except the gyc, which opens in roughly 2 months.)

and guess, just guess what i did after the game? i went the fuck home! go me!

so tomorrow's the big day off when i go get a new york state drivers license...apparently i should have done that about 3 1/2 years ago. whoops...and then carson is coming in that afternoon so we're gonna, oh i don't know, start drinking around 3? and later that night is jose gonzalez and the books! (why is it that i can find nothing of the books's new album anywhere? aside from pitchfork, who gave them an OK review. not on amazon, not on emusic...how am i supposed to buy this thing is no one's selling it?!?)

and of course saturday is the superextraordinaryamazingfantasticexciting birthday # 28. or 30 minus 2 as i like to call it. sunday. sunday is clearly for doing nothing except wishing i were dead and moaning. and thai food. and west wing. and grey's anatomy.

22 March 2006

do you usually wear sneakers to interviews?

so i had an interview with a big agency yesterday. i didn't really know what i was doing there, but i figured i'd give it a shot. it was for an assistant to a tv/news agent. whatever that means.


she: where do you see yourself in five years?
i: i can't answer that question

she: do you think you dressed appropriately for an interview?
i: well, i didn't want to tip anyone off at my job.

she: what did you do to prepare for this interview.
i: uh. nothing, really.

she: do you want this job?
i: not really.

what's hilarious is, after all her bitchy questions and my rude answers, she still seemed rather willing to offer me the job. i didn't even ask what the salary was.

just so you all don't think i'm a horrible person, i have three other interviews for jobs i'm way more psyched about coming up, so i was over this idea before i even got there. the person who interviewed me was really unpleasant. everyone there was dressed a little too nicely for my liking. the job was mainly administrative and including getting the agent her lunch and tea--uh, no fucking thank you. and the kicker: 930-730/8pm. who would want this job?

i only live to get radical

last night, point break and i finally got drunk and hooked up.

this movie has been pushing itself on me for a while now, but it culminated this weekend, when bonnaroo and coach dodgeball went to see the thing at galapagos, and when the book i was reading, Attention. Deficit. Disorder, by Brad Listi (a relatively enjoyable first attempt. and it reads fast enough to keep you from feeling like you've wasted a bunch of time on it if you don't like it. still, i have high hopes for this guy), mentioned, among other things, that keanu reeves' character's name is Johnny Utah. WOW. that is bad, the kind of bad i can appreciate. so xx and i settled down on the couch and took it in.

xx has a long history with this movie. an ex-bf of hers apparently couldn't stand the poorly-edited surfing footage and so she shared her new knowledge with me. my favorite thing is how in certain scenes there is just no way in hell they were in southern california. not only is the water a gorgeous blue color instead of muddy looking, but the landscape is lush and mountainous. hysterical, really.

we decided that someone's cousin or son must've written the screenplay and that's how it got produced. (no, i am not being sexist. there is no way in hell a female would've written that movie.)

hahaha. check out the massive list of goofs from imdb!! it's almost like no one gave a shit about anything in this movie.

21 March 2006

look there was all this stuff i was gonna do and then...

blogger's been down until about 20 minutes ago and i am leaving in about 10. currently in the works there are captivating entries about: st. patrick's day weekend, my upcoming birthday, our bocce game last night (did we win? did we lose? did i get shithoused again?) and lots and lots of frustration about the man who is somehow running our country and all those bombs in iraq i missed.

pray to the blogger gods that i have time and software tomorrow.

check yo'self.

20 March 2006

map for drunks

this was in gothamist last week, but the link was down. luckily, boingboing comes to the rescue and the link is fixed! wanna find a bar near a certain subway stop? wanna find a subway stop near your favorite bar? wanna just look at a big list/map of bars (including rather humorous descritptions) and wish you weren't sitting at your desk waiting for the server to be fixed so you could do something other than mysteriously lose at online boggle?


it started with a green beer and ended with a bloody mary

friday was the third annual st. patrick's day/purim party at the shwags'. this consists of corned beef and cabbage and hamentashen and whiskey cake and st. someone's cakes. oh, and a fuckload of alcohol.

i've never been here or there about green beer. i once tried to make blue macaroni and cheese and it turned green (a fascinating lesson for an 8 year old about that whole mixing colors to make new colors thing--sadly, green mac 'n' cheese just isn't very appetizing, not that blue would have been. but, i digress). other than that, i tend to take my food and drink as they come. but the beer i was handed was green, and i certainly wasn't going to turn it down. after my second green beer, i started noticing how everyone else's teeth and lips were all dyed. i'm not at all sure why, but this really grossed me out. i am off green beer forever. and i advise you not to drink it around me, either.

after eating as much corned beef as i possibly could. and then eating some cake, we moved down to the living room lounge to meet up with a birthday party. it turned into one of those nights where i drink beer after beer after beer after beer after beer and never seem to get more than a mild buzz. i'm not complaining, it's just weird.

saturday we went out to celebrate the maj's ultimate dominance over the GRE. we started out at local 138 and then met up with another party at grassroots. this time the beer worked. at about 230, i decided i needed falafel and i needed it right then. i told the maj, xx and cholmers, who were by then the only ones left (odd, as we were also the first people there eariler...btw, we dined that night at congee village. tip: when the waitress says, "and that's all?" and you keep ordering more food, stop. the waitress is telling you "you stupid morons, you've ordered waaaay too much food". however, please go there and get yourself some of the lotus root and the tofu and mushrooms and the snow pea greens in garlic. uuuuuuuuuuuhhhh. also the lychee martini is pretty sweet.) i was going to chickpea and then practically ran out of the bar. moments later i was eating a chicken schwarma and watching as the previously empty restaurant filled to near capacity between the time i arrived and when the maj et al. showed up. we ran them out of tahini.

whilst a normal person would probably follow two nights of heavy drinking with a nice restful sunday, i started early with a mango champagne cocktail at coco roco. this is a peruvian restaurant on 5th ave and it's good. real good. their spin on eggs florentine was damn near perfect. xx had a lovely omlette and some oj, passion fruit concotion (also with champagne).

i went home and tried to watch raging bull, but spent most of the time reading the paper and making rice krispy treats, which i then brought to commonwealth for the 6th annual Yuri Gagarin. this consists of some FUCKING AWESOME bloody marys and some scrabble. i am not very good at scrabble, but i still like playing it. especially whilst drinking.

the end...

ken create

you know that show the office? (the british one.) you know how it's like driving past a car crash and you can't look away but you really don't want to see any more?

behold ken create. giving new meaning to delusions of grandeur. a particular highlight is the 'magic lights'. HOW DID HE DO THAT?!?!?! one can only imagine.
please enjoy responsibly.


17 March 2006

open source fun

see what happens when someone tells the truth about mcdonald's at wikipedia.

behold the birth of fuckball, for real

other countries are using bluetooth to hook up.

i guess it's good we've got that patent

what if they actually did use LSD to induce labor?

that would suck pretty bad, i'd think.

10 things we didn't do on purpose.

1. viagra
2. LSD
3. x-rays
4. penicillin
5. fake sugar
6. microwaves
7. brandy
8. vulcanized rubber
9. silly putty
10. potato chips

Pro: environmentally sound. Con: like ratner

brooklyn brewery is apparently run by a bunch of hippies.

Brooklyn Brewery isn't equipped with wind turbines on the warehouse roof, however. Instead, the brewery pays a premium rate to Con Edison so that the 285,000 kilowatt-hours it uses off the grid every year is replaced by energy produced at a wind farm located in Madison County, in upstate New York.

It also pays farmers in New Jersey to swing by and pick up the "spent grain" -- the remaining husks that are left over after brewing. The farmers then feed the nutritious grains to their livestock, making good use of Brooklyn Brewery's waste.

ok, here we go. BEER WILL SAVE THE WORLD!!!

After producing its libations, New Belgium puts its waste water inside closed pools filled with anaerobic bacteria. The microbes feed on the water, rich in nutrients from the brewing process, and produce methane gas, which is then pumped back to the factory where it becomes electrical and thermal energy.

the restaurant at the end of the universe

the times has a nice piece on food in charleston.

All through the colder months, oysters in vast quantities are cooked over raging fires and consumed at outdoors open-them-yourself oyster roasts, accompanied by heroic quantities of beer.

good god that sounds marvellous.

and scientists discover more about the universe when it was still shitting itself.

maybe at some point i'll actually do this

every year i talk about going to see the elephants as they walk into the city for the circus's stint at msg. and every year i deal with the same problems: isn't it kind of sucky that they make the elephants do all that dumb shit in the first place? aren't circuses kind of horrible (not to mention scary)? how do i stay up until midnight without getting drunk and ceasing to care about getting up to 34th street? won't it be cold just standing around outside?

anyway, here it comes again, gmist says it's next monday night at 12. will i go? doubtful. especially since i'm pretty well guaranteed to see much more interesting elephants in india.

you can do no wrong

you may remember a while back when i mentioned the mugs (who, while having a pretty run of the mill and thereby hard-to-google name, managed to secure the simple eponymous url. go mugs!). i skipped the show last night at mercury in favor of a trip to the gym and some sleep (also finally got round to the dvr'd sons & daughters...not quite sold on that one), but now i see that gothamist has adopted them as one of their bands of the week! i also see that they clearly read my blog and plagarized it because they, too, compare them to early rem...

i think this place is full of spies

ok, so gmail has been performing "maintenance" like every ten seconds this morning. my guess is they're reading all my emails so they can figure out when and where the best place to plant the chip in my brain will be.

a couple of days ago, hotmail invited me to change my email over to some new hotmail live (beta) (if this doesn't make hotmail sound even more like a porn site, i don't know what will). being the adventurous sort, i did. this shit sucks. i wish they'd ask me what i thought, because i'd tell them it sucks. for one the stupid box that holds the list of useful links like "inbox", "junk mail", "drafts", etc., is TINY. like barely tall enough to see the full word "inbox" without scrolling up or down a bit. so you have to click on the little buttons with arrows on to get to "junk mail" or whathaveyou. but right below that is a relatively giant box with only this inside: "new folder". really poor design.

then the preview pane or whatever they're calling it comes in "bottom" "side" or "none". this, too, is waay too small. and, as far as i can tell, there's no way to maximize the message so you can read more than four lines at a time. and the far right-hand side of the screen is about 1/3 advert. brilliant guys, how much did you spend developing this piece of shit?

the good news is, you're able to click back to the "traditional hotmail view" or some crap. take it from me, the new hotness sucks ass. stick with old & busted this time.

Update: i just found the "send us your feedback" section of Live Mail Beta. and then i gave them an eyefull of "i want to talk about a specific feature...and i want to say something i don't like about it".

16 March 2006

today's bombing brought to you by...US!!!!!

yeah, bitch, we wanted to get in there. why should the insurgents have all the fun?

operation swarmer? who comes up with this shit? i bet i pay their salary. fuck.

and why isn't this the top story in the times?

and thank you to cnn for the "body count rises in iraq" clarification. you guys are really hard-hitting.

ides + full moon + east village = lots of random nudity

and good chinese food.

woozy and i had dinner in a chinese time warp on 2 ave last night. Jade Mountain. it's somewhere around 7th street or so, i can't quite remember. but everything is less than $7, except the lobster, which the only other patron of the restaurant ordered. everything comes with soup and dessert! and here is the first and only place i've found in new york that will make me some DEEP FRIED DUMPLINGS!!!! seriously, this place is a gem. and the woman who runs it is one sassy chinawoman. have dinner there tonight!

over the course of dinner, woozy asked if i'd seen avenue q. i told her it was funny she said that because i'd just seen it sunday, and i thought it was hilarious. aside from the boning puppets. that was slightly unnerving. but we did agree on the amazing number that was "i wish i could go back to college". we were especially impressed with the part where you realize, yes it would be fucking awesome to go back to college, only you're way too old to be in college and you'd be the creepy older dude at college. life's a bitch.

our stroll from the restaurant to the F was a threefold adventure. first we saw them shooting a movie apparenlty called "empty city". oh, look at that, it's an adam sandler movie about september 11th. did i miss the part where we entered an alternate universe? this is a man who, brilliantly, had shampoo and conditioner argue with each other. anyway, we saw don cheadle in the road shooting a scene. woo hoo.

nextly, we were around st. mark's maybe when a guy came up to us and started saying "yeah, real good shit, right? good shit?" and presenting a magazine to us. the magazine, of course, was full of boobs. i'll admit i didn't spend a whole lot of time studying it, but it sort of looked like, dare i say, a collage of boobs. it was really odd. it was kind of like "in touch" only instead of celebrities, there were lots of pictures of boobs. he then got into my very personal space, like up against me, which i don't particularly go for. this prompted me to say, "ok, you can go away now". he seemed to think it was funny that he'd gotten a reaction from me and walked away chuckling. bleh.

finally, as we were walking past dempsey's pub, i noticed the smoking patrons all had their eyes directed towards something high across the street. of course, as one does, i searched for whatever it was they were looking at. and there, on the top floor of the building directly across the street, was a woman doing something i really can't describe. she was climbing up on something but i have no idea what, from the angle it looked like it could've been a refridgerator or a wall that didn't reach fully to the ceiling. whatever it was she was doing, she was doing it butt-ass naked and directly in front of an equally naked window. of course, we were all mezmerized by this strange woman doing this strange thing naked at 915 at night. no one could figure out what it was she was climbing on, let alone why she was doing it, and certainly not why she was doing it totally nakedly. the fun came crashing to a halt when, due to the increased volume of we the spectators, she looked in our direction and was immediately photographed by someone standing behind me. this solidified her mortified suspicion that yes, about 20 people were all hollering at her from across the street because she was climbing all over something random and was doing so bare-assed. she disappeared from view shortly thereafter.

i consider myself extremely lucky that the only thing even remotely strange on the subway ride home was a sleeping homeless woman who had a jansport backpack on top of her big red cart full of what i can only assume were all her worldy possessions, onto which she'd somehow written "anti-social" in white-out.

UPDATE: this just in from woozy
on my subway ride home, a band of rowdy firemen in kilts disrupted the trip.

15 March 2006

and speaking of my birthday coming

first person to get me one of these wins.

bye bye, the ides of march!

aside from running into two people on the subway this morning and reading a nytimes article about an old neighbor/aquaintance of mine, it's been a pretty boring ides...i'm kinda hoping it will stay that way, but seeing as woozy and i are going on a fact-finding mission for good bars for a birthday party, who knows what could happen.

i love how much guinness lovers love their guinness

cause someone went through some serious shit to invent this. it's a disk that you put the beer on and, i don't even know. watch the video.

all you do is simply plug in the surger, put a little tap water on the metal plate, pour your can of guinness, which has been chilled in the fridge for the recommended 3 hours, at the recommended 45 degree angle, it's as simple as that!

(paraphrased, but close)

so guess what, guinness drinkers, you've poured yourself one pint (that's still not as good as an irish pub pull) and i've downed 3 pbr's. it's as simple as that!

14 March 2006

holy shit!

isaac hayes is a scientologist?!?!? these fuckers just don't stop popping out of the woodwork.

dude quit south park cause they, um, well, make fun of scientology. firstly, they make fun of everything on that show, and second, for fuck's sake, if you're stupid enough to get into scientology, you deserve constant mockery and should feel priviledged to get it from people as proficient as matt and trey.

merci le gawk

but. god. told me. to.

i rode in this morning sitting next to a dying roach. it was on the window sill next to my seat on the subway. its antennae were sadly waving around, as though it was trying to use up the last energy it had so it could go on and die already. its guts had spilled out a little, it was on its back.

i could relate to this roach.

yesterday was the jewish holiday called purim. on this holiday, jews are commanded to drink until we can't tell the difference between good and evil. since eventually i thought closing a bar on a monday night is good, i think god will be proud of me.

the night started off innocently enough with an 8pm bocce game. i was thinking i might even make it home by 10. then i kept feeling a little guilty that i wasn't going to get drunk for god. i mean, i don't want to make god sad! but then i remembered how i'm tired all the time and i want to stop going out every night.

then we lost, which never helps anything. although, had we won the commiseration drinks would still have been had, only they'd've been called celebratory. one by one the more reasonable teammates went home, until it was me, manlio, xx and k-fed. we decided to have one more and then head out.

4+ hours later, we played a super wasted game of 3 am bocce--which, incidentally, i am awesome at (and yes, i am aware that i just ended that clause witha preposition)--and eventually had to be told by the bartender that it was monday night what was wrong with us people we should all go home (there were quite a few people still left at the bar). and finally, because no one would let us have just one more, we did.

xx was saying just the other day that there's the headache hangover and the nausea hangover. i don't normally get the latter, but i've got it today. i was eyeing every trash can on the street walking to work, but only after wondering if i would be the "sick passenger" that would delay 6 ave service for the next three hours. luckily, the moms sent me a book of hangover cures which i keep inconspicuously next to the phone on my desk. unfortunately, they tend to require ingredients i don't have, such as carrots, a granny smith (or other tart) apple and a cube of ginger root.

we already know they're anti-semites, but blogger is also anti-bocce, and this i won't stand for...

13 March 2006

in the foosprint

saturday was the UN foosball invitational in fort greene. i was half of team zambia. the other half of team zambia was cholmers, who, thankfully, is good enough for both of us. even so, i was pretty damn shocked when we found ourselves skating through the whole tourney to re-face the only team that had beat us all day, the uzbecks, in the final showdown. this game we lost. the first games were to 5, the playoffs were best 2 out of 3 to five and the playoff game was a best of five, each game to five. we lost in three. with two points. i did manage to score twice from the goal line and finally figured out that playing d is mostly about keeping the little dudes vertical, because if they're laid out levitating over the field, the ball goes right into that goal. right in there. anyway, we were defeated in the end, which is as it should be since i'd played foosball maybe twice before.

props to mongolia and lichtenstein for some serious traditional garb. and also st. vincent & the grenadines for the leather pants confusion.

anyway, what with being in fort greene and all, and my general dislike of the piece of shit sack of greedy puss in the first place, the conversations ran to ratner pretty quickly. drankin' and i were discussing how the fight is not over, but the chances that we're gonna stop this thing are really fucking small. he also told me that bruce's brother, whose name escapes me, is a major civil rights dude.

we were in a fairly new development somewhere south of the railyards. it looked kind of like public housing, but it was very nice. hilariously (or weepily, depending on how you choose to deal), this development, which i don't think is more than 2 years old, will soon be demolished to make room for the stupidest idea ever. what a wonderful world.

i mentioned this earlier, but it seems that the owner of brooklyn brewery is pro-ratner, whilst the brewmaster is clearly the sane variety human and is against the development. to pennant ale or not to pennant ale, that is the question.

heavenly blessed and worldly wise

saturday's word of the day from dictionary.com

crapulous \KRAP-yuh-lus\, adjective:
1. Suffering the effects of, or derived from, or suggestive of gross intemperance, especially in drinking; as, a crapulous stomach.
2. Marked by gross intemperance, especially in drinking; as, a crapulous old [1]reprobate.

let's all use it in a sentence!

hear ye, hear ye

this week's kexp podcast is none other than the elected.

we watch west wing and grey's anatomy

iraqis get bombed.

speaking of which, OMG, josh and donna!! what a ho, giving him her room key, though. donatella, i thought more of you!

10 March 2006

straight from the horse's mouth

cubes are teh suck.

lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, love-ly day

it's fucking awesome outside! huzzah! stella and i lunched in the park. we were watching the ducks slide around on the ice in the lake and i said something about how awesome it would be to do that. and i realized, it's no passing fad. i really do want to be a duck. bad.

why don't you come with me, little girl, on a magic subway ride

D trains are uptown C trains after w4th street.

that's sort of it.

i had a really weird dream i was in union square but i'd just got out of the shower. but the whole of the station was wet like the whole thing was a shower. and the uptown express train track was filled up with a trash train. i guess that's not really that strange, after all.

Safety reminder of the week: Walking between cars is not only dangerous; it is also against the law.

yes, the mta just lay down the grammatical smack and used a fucking semicolon.

i never knew until tonight that the world had gone so daft with this nonsense

being the supportive friend that i am, i went to see the heights players' production of everyone's favorite author miller play about idiots panicking, the crucible.

xx and i met at city hall park and walked over the bridge, where i shot some very blurry photos in that awesomely weird light that was going on last night. i have to shout out to the little bakery on henry, cranberry's, cause they make some retarded good chocolate cake.

so anyway, it was an open rehearsal. jdog had informed me prior that this particular performance would be attended by two groups of high school students. i thought it would be funny to not mention this to xx (who is a teacher) until we got there. she was less than pleased with me.

it was like being at a taping of "saved by the bell". remember how whenever anyone would kiss on that show, everyone in the audience was all "wooooo"? that's what these kids were all about, only triggered by the words "arse", "whore" and any mention of killing anyone. it was actually very entertaining because these kids were getting into it in their own way. sure, it was a little annoying to tune out the din of constant conversation going on throughout the whole 3 hour episode, but every time i saw a kid do that snappy thing they do when someone delivered a line, it made me giggle.

during the intermission, we were privelidged enough to witness the birth of the newest insult in the new york high school scene: "girl, you look like a pilgrim". watch for it soon on the OC.

xx, jdog and i hopped the 63 back to el slopo and had the requisite coupla' at commonwealth. but go me: today is the first day this week i didn't sleep right the fuck through my alarm. god i need sleep.

guess how many degrees it is!!!!

SEVENTY!!!!!!! WOOOOHHOOOOOOO!!!1!!!!!oneoneone

09 March 2006

this begs the question, why not just sign a shitload of books and then ship them to the stores?

margaret atwood has a pen that signs books from across the room. or across the pond. it sounds pretty fucking stupid to me, but i don't really go for autographed copies of books anyway.

Anxious minutes later, Atwood picked up a pen to autograph her new short story collection, The Tent, for Nigel Newton, chief executive of her British publisher, Bloomsbury. She wrote the words on an electronic pad while chatting to Newton over a video linkup.

A few seconds later in another part of the exhibition center, two spindly metal arms clutching a pen reproduced the words onto Newton's book in Atwood's angular scrawl: "
For Nigel, with best wishes, Margaret Atwood."

michel, ma belle

wired interviews mr. quirky about dave chapelle's block party.

drove the pressie to the levee but the levee had broken about 48 hours earlier

our president and his ipod.


question: is it worse to own the don mclean song "american pie" or to call him dan mclean?

with gratitute towards a yeti named jerry

it's a creeper double feature

it's time to admit it, i'm getting a little tired of webster hall. i feel like i'm there all the freaking time. what's up with these bands? book yourselves somewhere else. i like bowery ballroom, so let's try that one on for size. luckily the next two shows are elsewhere. but then it's back for the magic numbers & the elected.

west river and i caught the last three or so songs of inara george's (is that even her name? i'm too blase to even check) set. i placed her somewhere between suzanne vega and beth orton, both musically and physically. west river posed the "beth orton's younger, less talented little sister" theory, and we stuck with that.

so first off about Rogue Wave. Zach Rogue needs a shower. or a comb. or something. also, he should buy a new t shirt. even ask the merch table if maybe he can get a nada surf t. (it's really gauche to wear the shirt of your own band.) they really were not on top of their game last night. the first two or so songs were just not tight. it was almost like they were each playing along with a radio that was next to them, instead of with each other. and it hurts me to say things like this about a band i so enjoy. however, they managed to pull it together by the fourth song or so, after which point they sounded really good. it would have been real nice to hear 10:1 or endgame, but i had to be content with bird on a wire, endless shovel, publish my love, every moment, you (which came out much better live than i ever thought it could), love's lost guarantee, medicine ball and that's all i can remember at the moment. they did some chinese fire drill action a couple of times and the drummer/bassist/keyboardist switched around with the guitarist/keyboardist/drummer and the other guy. they're a funny looking bunch of guys. a bit older than most of the bands running around these days, and very calm. their stage presense reminded me a lot of built to spill, but that's probably because one of the dudes kind of looked like their lead singer.

it will be exciting to see RW on their own tour. while quite a few people seemed familiar with the band last night, i'll be happy to be in a room surrounded by people who think they are the bees knees and are all singing along, instead of just me singing along and being the only one for at least five people in all directions doing so.

i'll just say this once. this band is worth checking out. i will even make you a sampler cd if you ask nicely. perhaps even if you demand it rudely.

Stop talking to the six people you came with. saying "they are soooo good" every five seconds does not enhance anyone's, namely my, experience of the show. as a matter of fact, we find it irritating when morons like you come to a show and talk the whole fucking way through it. you are at a fucking gig, dude, the point is to listen to the fucking band! also, there is no smoking in webster hall. you wanna fire up your j that's ok by me, but you really don't need to chain smoke through the whole gig. i managed to suffer through it without a fag, and so can bloody you. you can also go outside to smoke. you're not in high school, it does not make you super awesome because you're too cool to follow the fucking rules about smoking indoors. also, you are tempting me to grab your cigarette from you and return it to you by mashing the lit end into the back of your neck. if you realize what song it is and that you really like said song, please do not jump up and down like a fifteen year old girl. i want to get violent when they do it and since you're a mid-30s gay man it seems only fair that i actually get violent with you. your friends are also kind of annoyed with you. the guy to your left with the longish hair, leave him alone, he's jammin' out. the guy to your right with the hoodie can enjoy the show without your constant commentary. and please, for the love of god, stop pulling the girl in front of the girl in front of you back so you can talk to her, she wants to punch you in the face. no, wait, that's me, but she probably does too. also, you better consider yourself damn freaking lucky that you pulled all that arms in the air, throwing peace signs, shrieking and leaning way back, thereby invading my very protected personal space during a fucking song with lyrics that say "always love", because if you'd done it at any other point in the show i would have strangled you. NB: our experience with this man is a prime example of why this blog is called "bag of rocks".

ok, so on to nada surf. until rather recently the only thing i knew about these guys was they did that song "popular" that came out when i was in college or hs. and i liked that song. generally i think novelty songs are stupid (this is a person who, obviously with great error, wrote off both weezer and the flaming lips as useless gimmick bands, so go figure), but there was something about the scathing sarcasm coating all the lyrics to that song that always made me smile. and the fact that apparently the words came from an actual book that earnestly suggested such idiocy was pretty much right up my "the only thing to do in this situation is laugh" alley.

i knew there had been a great movement for the band since its "popular" days, but i didn't really know where they were then and so had no preconceived notion other than evidentley these guys can be funny when they want to be. it's a really good album, and the more i listen to "let go" the more i think that one is pretty awesome, too. anyway, i'm taking the long way round here. Nada Surf are a good band, and they are a very good live band.

they were clearly stoked to be in new york, as they are from this fair city. there were stories about when webster hall was the ritz and the shows they'd seen there as kids, and how it looked bigger now than it had when they were younger. they also had six gigantic mirrors. two were behind the drummer, which was awesome, because i love watching the drummers and they're usually at the worst angle. it was a little bizzare though. anyway, they played a lot of stuff: do it again, concrete bed, blankest year (during which the members of RW and inara george and her peeps came out and danced around), blizzard of '77, inside of love, fruit fly, blonde on blonde, the way you wear your head, what is your secret, your legs grow (which is stunningly lovely live), paper boats, imaginary friends, look in the mirror, always love (see above where this song saved a man who thought it necessary to pump his fist in the air during every word of the chorus's life) and i'm sure some more i'm forgetting.

in the covers category, they treated us to a fairly bearable rendition of the smiths' "there is a light that never goes out" and at one point went into "love will tear us apart" during another song. they played until 130, at which point i was praying for them to stop because i was so tired. but i was sad when they actually did.

of course, the old mta had me home in a timely way and i got to bed about 3 am (yes, i was being sarcastic).

08 March 2006

it's like i'm sitting here, waiting for birds to sing

c'mon, let's do it again, pulheeese, let's do it again.

or even, for the first time. T-minus 4 hours til west river and i are basking in the hipsterest, poppiest, probably-all-younger-than-i-am-est crowd i've had to put up with in a while. at least since stars.

full report on nada surf et rogue wave on le morrow.

the only think less likeable than the mta

is that fucking prick ratner.

I 285 westbound's a little sluggish

wow. as a former resident of the atl, i am familiar with the leadfoot ways of southern drivers. it's certainly normal to go 75 running through downtown on the connector, and don't even talk about what goes on on sr400.

but some dudes got together and decided to drive four abreast (taking up all the lanes of the perimeter) and drive the speed limit--55mph. and they filmed it. you can really see just how freaking slow 55 is.


yeah, you got the style, and we got the style

ok, so chick fil goes after all the evangies, mcdonald's is coming home to the jews.


for some reason, i think "cosmetology" should be the only option on this ad.

eat more christians-er, chicken

i used to work at chick-fil-a. i was totally promoted to overlord of the drive-thru. i got to boss people around and eat chicken nuggets and that lemon pie all day. it was fucking rad. what was also rad, as a jew, was that i never had to work sundays. perhaps that actually appealed to the "lazy" and not the "jew" in me, but whatevs. i knew truett cathy or whatever was a big bible thumping freakazoid, but I NEVER HAD TO WORK ON A SUNDAY, and that was good enough for me.
chick-fil-a's christian allegiances never bothered me none, i was never forced to pray at work, as a matter of fact, as the chick where i worked was located in a pretty jewed up 'hood in the atl, there were a number of other heathens working there. they had some good scholorships too as i recall.
but this is kinda weird. bring your church bulletin and get a free sannie (w/purchase of a combo meal)? of course, it's happening in tejas.

rss dvr?

ok, so i was just noticing that Sons & Daughters premiered last night without me noticing. i was blissfully unawares watching the (unintentionally) hilarious first episode ever of the West Wing followed by 2+ hours of getting mad at stanley kubrick for really doing a massive disservice to the book with his self-aggrandizing version of a clockwork orange. and i didn't even really like the book in the first place. but i now understand the less-than-warm mentions of kubrick's version in the foreward. anyway. the point is, i now have to remember to set the dvr for next week's sons & daughters, but sometimes it won't let you do anything for a show that's over a week ahead. so i might have to walk around with "s&d" written on my hand for the next five days, which is just odd, even for me. this is a problem i have all the time. i hear about some shit that's on that i want to dvr, but it's not available on the stupid dvr menu yet...
TimeWarner, I challenge thee: make it possible to set my dvr from the interweb. think of it, you read some review of a show or what-have-you, you go to the home page of your dvr and click on some shit and then it records. this is brilliant. i am brilliant. conversely, you could put a little button on the homepages of shows, like the rss buttons, and it hooks you up auto-style. good lord, someone give me money for this idea!

see? tivo's sort of got the idea.

07 March 2006

there's so much weird news, i'm putting it all here for YOU!!

wal-mart co-opts the blogosphere. and in true wal-mart fashion, they do not compensate the bloggers.

the only minnesota twin i've ever loved, kirby puckett, has gone to iowa.

today's bombing: india.

step 1: at&t births the baby bells
step 2: baby bells sbc and bellsouth grow and beget cingular
step 3: baby bells and cingular buy at&t
what the butt? something tells me i still won't get a signal at my apt.

shotgun weddings, food stamps and welfare soon to be all the rage in south dakota.

but none of it matters, cause we're all gonna die.

don't bogart that wi-fi, man. see, if all you people were smart, you'd just work out a compromise, like you have unlimited access to your neighbor's deck, and they hump your wi-fi whenever they want!

i think winning might actually be everything

we went into last night's double header 0-2 and left it 1-3. i'll tell you what, i'll take being the randomly awesome team over being last-season's-almost-unbeatable-team-who-can't-seem-to-get-their-shit-together-this-season any day.
i wasn't rolling much of anything, but considering i was literally barely awake, i'm cutting myself some slack. and there was one or two in there. the first game was a toughy and with a little less bad luck, i'm pretty sure it could've been ours, but not so.
luckily the second game proved to be our breakthrough. things seemed to gel a little bit more, or at least i finally figured out how to compensate for the hard bank left followed by the hard bank right on the court.
some of you are aware that i've learned my "talking smack on the internets" lesson, but there's a new "flock" in town this season...
anyway, i hadn't realized just how annoying it was to be a loser until i was a winner again. the euphoria that came when the last ball rolled into place, securing our point, it's goooooood. and massively better than the feeling i'd experienced scant 2 hours earlier when mayor ed bocce (no' bad, eh?) gave us a bit of an ass fuck.
manlio and i are agreeing on lots today.