Sunday, April 30, 2006

That's the Sound of the Police Stripper

So, how do you make sure your good friend has, like, the bestest bachelorette party ever? Well, you make sure it's at a bar that has karaoke. And the best part is, we had no idea there was even going to be karaoke there last night when Colette booked the place for Vicki's big night. In fact, the goal was to stay at the bar until the stripper came, then afterward head downtown to another bar for dancing. But when everyone ends up having a kick-ass time among the penis straws and penis balloons and bad singing, you don't need a second destination. And the best part is that Vicki also seemed to have a kick-ass time, complete with her tiara and light-up sash and the fact that there was never an empty glass in her hand. If this is a warm-up to the wedding, I think it's going to be the freakingest off-the-wall time ever.

And I know lots of people will be disappointed to know that our stipper wasn't Samson. And it wasn't "the fireman" whose uniform had literally been torn to shreds at a party two nights earlier. But we did get Shecky. I mean, "the cop," who, when doing his stripperly thing with Christina, was like "Why did Tigger go into the bathroom? To look for Pooh!" Yeah, I know. But his efforts to make everyone comfortable in the squickiest of situations was appreciated. Though it was quite hilarious when I was explaining it to Erica as she moved in this morning, and she was like, "Did he have handcuffs?" And I was like, "Noooooo" and then the big burly mover dude goes "No handcuffs? Did he have a gun?"And again I told them no, and then added he didn't have a badge either. So he wasn't much of a cop as a guy in an NYPD T-shirt, but you take what you can get. Still, it would've been awesome if our "soldier of fortune" friend had shown up and I could've had the story of the century for my officemates. Maybe next time...which I hope isn't for a very long, long time.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

A Night to Forget

Well, it's nice to know the Yankees are sticking with the tradition of the past few years -- they lose the first two games we go to in uninspiring fashion, and we freeze our butts off in the process. It's kinda nice knowing the more things change, the more things stay the same, ya know.

UGH. Seriously, I really thought if they were going to blow the game last night, it would be entirely Jaret Wright's fault -- but come on, bats. I swear, Jeter and Giambi are the only ones who look moderatley comfortable at the plate right now. And you all know how I hate the hatin' on A-Rod, but Jesus Christ, every time I watch a game the man is bungling some kind of scoring opporunity or killing a rally. I want to know who put the Suck Powder in his Corn Flakes because this is not my A-Rod. The same can be said for Sheff and even Matsui. And you can't be doing that when you're 3, 4 and 6 in the lineup. Somebody dump their cereals, stat.

There were some bright spots in the game, however, like the love for Bernie after his homer, Damone doing "The Isaac" to the Bleacher Creatures during Roll Call, The Monkees being the theme of this week's Sound Man and getting to see RanJo pick I'm a Believer, Moose fo with Daydream Believer (heeeeeeeeee) and Bernie not know any of the songs (huh?) and Ken (special guest star in place of Tonya as she and Steph were attending the Daytime Emmys and much warmer than us in L.A.) wondering if it was true that Italians aren't supposed to be good athletes right before Catalanotto's homer.

And then there was the ultra weird moment of the moment of silence before the game when it was announced that Steve Howe had died in a car accident. The entire place seemed stunned. I mean, I know the man had addiction problems, but you don't expect to hear stuff like that when a guy's 48. Howe wasn't one of my favorites, but it is still extremely sad to have a player you grew up watching pass on suddenly. Especially when he's the first guy from this team to pass away who you actually remember watching...

Friday, April 28, 2006

Suuuuurvey Says

Snatched from Yankeebob:

1. My roommate once: Hid her boyfriend from the cops in our apartment, though we thought he was just there for a really long visit.
2. Never in my life: Have I been more than a two-hour plane ride away from home.
3. The one person who can drive me nuts, but then can always manage to make me smile: No one -- I think I've kicked all the people who drove me nuts to the curb a long time ago.
4. High School was: Not as cool as college.
5. When I'm nervous: I get bitchy and can't talk to people.
6. The last time I cried: Seeing the Yankees on Opening Day.
7. If I were to get married right now my bridesmaids/groomsmen would be: Um, let's not put the cart before the horse, especially when there is no horse to speak of.
8: I like salad: No I don't.
9. My hair: Is loving this current dry weather.
10. When I was 5: I opened all my presents before my parents woke up on Christmas Day. What? It was 6 a.m. and I was trying to be considerate!
11. Last Christmas: I was dealing with the fact that Damone was really going to be a Yankee.
12. When I turn my head left, I see: Jason and the bandaid on his forehead, the result of an injury sustained during pirate activities.
13. I should be: Working?
14. When I look down I see: My keyboard.
15. The craziest local recent event was: My birthday, hands down.
16. If I were a character on Friends I'd be: The person who gets to slap Monica on occasion for being an annoying ass.
17. By this time next year: I'll be 30. Oy.
18. Current Relationship Status: Why Is That All Capped?
19. I had a hard time understanding: The need for Interleague play outside local rivalries. I still don't get it.
20. At family gatherings I: Try to figure out exactly who was "connected" back in the day.
21. You know I "like" you if: I actually want to be with you and I'm not avoiding you or something. Just like everyone else, I assume.
22. If I won an award, the first person (people) I'd thank is/are: Whoever voted me as the winner, I guess.
23. Take my advice: Use common sense, don't be oblivious and remember the world doesn't revolve around you.
24. My ideal breakfast is: Two eggs over medium, bacon and hashbrowns. Mmmmm....
25. If you visit a place I grew up: My parents would be like "Um, hi, go away." They still live there.
26. Where don't you plan to visit anytime soon: The Mets clubhouse store.
27. If you spend the night at my house: Chewboken can keep you awake too!
28. I'd stop my wedding if: There was something big going on during the Yankee game.
29. The world could do without: Al Leiter in the broadcast booth. The man seriously grates already.
30. I'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than date: just for the sake of dating.
31. Most recent thing you've bought yourself: An entertainment unit.
32. Most recent thing someone else bought for you: All my lovely birthday presents.
33. My favorite blonde is: A-Fed!!!
34. My favorite brunette is: The Chicken
36. The last time I was drunk was: Saturday night, but I wasn't as knocked-off my axis as I was at the Christmas party. I think that's the pinnacle right there.
37. The animals I would like to see flying besides birds are: Humans -- air travel is way too expensive.
39. Once, at a bar: I saw Jon Bon Jovi!
40. Last night I: Worked till 9, came home, watched the end of the game and went to bed. Are Thursday nights supposed to be exciting?
41. There's this girl I know who: Is getting married in two weeks!
42: I don't know how to: Embrace the idea of a new Yankee Stadium.
43. A better name for me would be: ???
44. If I ever go back to school I'll: I'm not going back. The idea of papers and studying and incurring more student loans does not appeal to me, and there is nothing I want to do that I need another degree for. Thank god.
45. How many days until my birthday?: 360

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

That Was About Six Weeks Too Late...

If I never hear the words "You've made America fall in love with you" or "Aww, but she's so sweet" or "You have such a great personality" ever again it will be too soon. And you know what? We won't hear it on Idol for at least the rest of the season. YIPEEEE!!!!!!

THANK YOU, AMERICA! Especially for sparing us from two Kellie Pickler songs next week, among other things.

And, dare I say it? Best vocal Top 5 ever? Now, if they can just get their asses in gear and not pick sucky songs and keep the obnoxious/smug/boring/crazed/goatie behavior to a minimum...

ETA: The backpedaling by the judges on Kat's performance was the LAMEST thing I've ever seen on this show from them. That's TWICE this season they've changed their minds about Kat the next night, once for the worse, this time for the better. There have been MANY performances over the course of this show that seem to have been unfairly criticized/overly praised and the performer just has to suck it up and tough it out. And what gets me is that the performance, while not as terrible as the judges said, was still NOT GOOD. She had a couple of good runs, but she screeched her way through the rest of it and was probably the worst of the four rendititions ever done on this show -- so my ears totally can't forgive the apology. (Plus, it was nice to see the butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth look washed off Ms. Smugness' face when she, gasp, just couldn't believe the judges didn't like it. The girl CAN sing, but damn, if my dislike doesn't grow for her every week...Kelly Clarkson my ass. At least Kelly had the spunk and big old dose of humility to back up the good voice...)

Yeah, Wriiiiiite

Man, can the plagiarizing just stop already? I find this case totally interesting because I LOVE the two books that have been plagiarized. In fact, when writing my own stuff, I freak out sometimes that people will think I stole my ideas from Megan, when really, the only similarity is that my main character is a teen from New Jersey, and I've had the idea long before I even read Sloppy Firsts. And really, Megan can't corner the market on all books taking the place in the Garden State. So there.

But geez, Kaavya Viswanathan? She took stuff almost word for word. How in the name of hell does that happen? If it made THAT much of an impression on you, you'd totally recall that those words you are typing came from what you read, right? Gah. This is why 17-year-olds should not be authors -- like, take it to your MySpace account and post it there for all your friends to be like "OMG! THaT iS Aw-SUM." But perhaps Little Brown got greedy and wanted to capitalize on their young genius or something. Whatever.

Though I do find this all very convenient for everyone involved. Megan's latest book came out two weeks ago and is on the best-seller list, but fan reviews haven't been all that favorable. (Personally I was way disappointed and wish she'd left her Jessica Darling series at two books.) And after the Million Little Pieces controversy, it breathed new life into that book's sales, so I'm sure this Opal book will be flying off the shelves soon...

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

I Swear to God...

...if Kellie Pickler is still in the running for American Idol tomorrow night at this time, outlasting five contestants who could sing her off a cliff, this blog might just spontaneously combust. The girl has less talent than any Idol contestant in recent memory -- and that includes SiNOTra and Scott Savol, yo. But the popular theory is that Paris, she of the fucking fantastic voice but no fanbase (she can only blame herself for not having a sob story, I guess), will go tomorrow. Though maybe they'll follow last year's Shocking!Elimination at the 6th spot (Constantine went home....hee) and someone like Taylor will go -- and then people will be out for blood and Pickler would have to run for the hills. As much as that would rule, I'd much rather her go tomorrow and then the top 5 could possibly be one of the most fantastic singoffs yet. But who am I kidding? Everyone loves the Pick! She's so great, y'all!

Oh yeah, and apparently Damone is pulling double duty, playing center field for the Yankees and starring as the male lead in the new Broadway show Hot Feet. Don't believe me? Well, Tonya and I saw a preview performance tonight (bad plot, great dancing) and when this dude comes on stage, I almost started laughing because Johnny Damon came out and was dancing like...well, a professional. Then Tonya mutters out of the corner of her mouth "that guy looks like Johnny Damon" and for the rest of the show, I have to bite the insides of my mouth to keep from giggling. We are both quite in awe over his many talents -- he can jeté just as awesomely as he can crash into the outfield wall for a catch, and it's obvious now why he had to come to New York -- to quote a famous movie, "Gottaaaa dance!"

What's that, you say? Damone was playing for the Yankees tonight? Pshaw. You're just jealous you didn't get to see him DANCE!

Monday, April 24, 2006

April Showers Bring...Karaoke!!

So, I gotta give it up to my homies for braving what was seriously nasty, non-going-out type of weather on Saturday, just so they could karaoke it up with yours truly. And it was totally awesome because it may have been the most insane Hoboken Idol thus far, even without Rick and Eric's stirring rendition of I Want to Know What Love Is (Sigh). The only thing that sucks about having a crowd that big (and with it being a three-ring circus atmosphere) is that don't think I had a full conversation with any of my guests. Everyone seemed to be able to fend for themselves, though, and judging by the amount of alcohol consumed, I'd say the fended for themselves quite well. (Note to self: When you invite 20 people to a party, one bottle of vodka isn't enough -- like, try four or five bottles)

Tonya and I kicked things off and kept with tradition by starting with a ballad so cheesy your arteries could get clogged just listening to it. This year, we opted for The One That You Love, by Air Supply, and holy Christ those high notes aren't even an option. Tonya was a very willing singing buddy, as anything I'd suggest, she'd be up for it, including Hello by Lionel Richie (she played the part of the blind sculptress in the video, and I was telephone stalker Lionel), More Than Words, Here and Now, and Keep Your Hands to Yourself (Erica demonstrated her cow-milking ability during this). I should note that when she and Ken (with his traditionally yummy cake) arrived in their taxi, they had to wait outside for like a minute before I could get down there, and when I opened the door they were soaked. THAT's how much it was raining.

My personal fave performance of the night was Erica's Papa Don't Preach, which she'd been practicing since her Like a Virgin performance last year...

preach of course she was "pregnant" this time around, with Colette and Vicki helping her out for moral support in telling her daddy that she was keeping her baby.

Other highlights:

Rana revisiting her Bye Bye Bye performance from January, complete with non-muscle-pulling choreography.


Jason actually making it past the forcefield and rifle-toting guards surrounding Brooklyn and escaping into Jersey on a weekend, with some shredded clothing, his girlfriend Michelle and her visiting friend Amy in tow.

The copy department massacring doing another splending rendition of Take My Breath Away with no one to steal the spotlight from us.


Vicki channeling Madonna during Sarah and Colette's version of Like a Prayer (will somebody be possessed by the Material Girl every year now?)

Richard knowing the words to every song.

Dexter relieving me of my run-down-the-stairs-to-let-people-in routine with our buzzer being dead.


Jesse and Dexter's version of Baby Got Back, complete with backup dancers and Vicki smacking people on the ass with a candlestick.

Rick and Carolyn bringing Rick's cell phone ring to life by letting us know they built Hoboken on Rock and Roll.


A Great Moment in Apartment History, as Carolyn did a "Passing of the Keys" to Erica, who, for those of you who didn't know, is going to be my roommate...but her "baby" isn't allowed in. Because A-Rod's already got dibs on the walk-in closet.

Oh, there was SO much more, but I'm pressing to remember it all now. I guess memory loss is the first sign of getting old. SIGH.

Sunday, April 23, 2006

Let's Ignore the Fact That I was 8 When the Song Came Out

Is there any better way to ring in your 29th year than by singing the awe-inspiring We Are the World with fellow drunken friends and friends of friends?

I didn't think so.

ETA: Evidence! (holy shaky camera work, Batman!)

Saturday, April 22, 2006

In Which I Miss Sasquatch, And Actually Like Damone? APOCALYPSE!

Well, it's official. I think I hate Chewboken. Because after coming home from last night's WAY dejecting Yankee game (more on that in a bit) I just wanted to go to sleep. And so I did, at 12:30...only to get awaken at 2 a.m. by some really obnoxious rolling chair action. I grunt and try to fall back asleep when there's a loud BANG! Followed a few minutes later by what sounds like a sack of rocks being dropped on the floor, followed by more rolling chair action and stomping. So I do what I do best and scream some obsenities and bang on the wall. And what does Chewboken do? STOMP AROUND LOUDER AND ROLL LOUDER. Now, this could all be coincidental because maybe my screaming didn't register over the din of the dead of night, or maybe his walls are sound proof and he couldn't hear the banging of my fist...but I find that hard to believe. Folks, I think he did it on purpose -- especially when he drops another sack or rocks on the floor a minute later. I never thought I'd say this but...I miss Sasquatch. I know/ Because while Sassy was a loud stomper and had the creaky bed to end all creaky beds, I don't think he ever did anything maliciously, and he at least went away for the weekend sometimes. And I NEVER had to bang on the wall with him (except that one time they were blasting music till 4 a.m., but that wasn't him going about his daily routine like a jackass every night). Good lord, look what I've been driven to...missing my old archnemesis.

And I swear to god, if he even so much as suggests that we turn our music down tonight during Hoboken Idol, I will rip him a new asshole like no man has ever seen before. And that's a promise.

Anyway. The game. SIGH. You know, Yanks, I'd much rather do without the foreplay with nothing to show for it and have you go gentle into that good night than the big old disappointmentfest you pulled last night. It's not nice to get a crowd all jazzed up like that on a chilly night just to be all "Nah, not today, nevermind." I much rather would've sat through a blowout, to tell the truth. I think I wasted lots of screaming energy and nerves, you know? And dude, I know I'm an A-hyphen defender and all but when A-Rod got a smattering of boos after that strikeout, I couldn't even say anything to it. He may seriously be one of the most frustrating guys to watch bat right now. Just turn the brain off there, Socrates, and have at it.

But the game was not without its awesomeness. Like, when the Sound Man comes on and the guys are given the Songs of Prince to choose from, and Shawn Chacon actually sings a line of "Raspberry Beret," and then there's this battle between "Kiss" and "Let's Go Crazy" ("Let's Go Crazy" Wins), and Bubba Crosby gets all up on his high horse and is like "I don't listen to Prince" (which is greeted with boos from our row). It's so good to have it back!

Then there was the whole love shown for Bob Sheppard thing -- he was back from his hip problem, and in between innings, they played the Welcome Back Kotter theme song and showed him on the scoreboard, and the whole place errupted into warm cheers. It is so nice to know that even among the bandwagoners and clueless types who were at the game last night (they tried starting the wave with the Yanks down by a run in the 9th -- I'm sorry, If the game is boring you that much, just go home, assholes) the people who know better far outnumber them. And I continue my streak of Bob Sheppard announced games, so it's even better.

And then there was finding out that Steph and Erica love The Ten Commandments as much as I do (which was begat from a conversation about the awesomeness that is the movie Gidget), and when Steph does her Charlton-Heston-As-Moses imitation, I was literally in tears. The good kind, not the "Wang, what is your damage?" kind. Or the "Jorge es estupido" (per the dude sitting behind us) kind. Or the "A-Rod/Matsui strikeout-in big situations" kind. Or the no playing of Friday I'm in Love/Just Got Paid kind. ARGH.

But I've saved the awesomest moment for last. We were all interested to see how the Bleacher Creatures would do Damone's roll call at the start of the game. This came after seeing him on the JumboTron during stadium announcements, and hearing him called in the starting lineup and still being weirded out MAJORLY by it. Anyway, the Creatures get to their "John-ny Da-Mon", and what does Damone do? Not lift up his glove in mild recognition like the other players do. Oh no, Damone does this thing where he raises both arms up like he's Dr. Frankenstein, or like he's parting the Red Sea, looks at them and kind of does this staggering, fall back thing, like he's overwhelmed that they like him, they really like him, and the Bleacher Creatures gobble it up.

I know that all sounds like it could've come off as really toolish behavior, but I give you the reaction of my row, (the most loyal and diehard of Yankee fans, who would've skinned Damone alive in the past few seasons given the chance): Brows furrowed, with our mouths hanging open, looks of dumbfoundment on our faces. When we all are able to find our voices, we're all, "What is this strange feeling inside us? Could that actually have been...endearing?" Or as Steph said, still looking bewildered, "I almost feel like singing, "You made me love you, I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to do it...." And I think we were all pretty much weirded out for the rest of the night by this reaction of warmth toward freaking DAMONE -- it's like the brain couldn't compute. But I was still able to joke by going into my movie announcers voice and being all "And now in the role he was born to play...Johnny Damon. Is. Yankees Centerfielder." Because if that little display of his wasn't that of someone totally ready for the New York limelight, I don't know what is.

Friday, April 21, 2006

I Bet They're Jealous


What do these three poor saps have in common?


They didn't get way awesome cupcakes two days before their birthday. Or at least I'm assuming the lone alive one in that group isn't getting cupcakes today. Because, really, who would bake Lee Majors cupcakes? Thanks, Rana!

Thursday, April 20, 2006

When Did Self Sufficiency Become Uncool?

This story absolutely kills me. When the hell are parents cutting the cord nowawadays?

Today, parents are finding that they are on the hook for more, sometimes much more — contributions of thousands of dollars a year to help young men and women get on their feet economically, often into their 30's.

WHAT? My parents have NEVER given me money just for kicks while I've got an income, and here's the weird thing -- I would NEVER ask them for it. I'm not saying this to pat myself on the back, but because I am living, breathing proof that you can exist on a low salary without Mommy and Daddy bailing you out. Living on a fixed income is not the death sentence or whatever these parents have been roped into believing.

"Everybody I know is supporting their children in some way," said Gail Horowitz, Mr. McGuinness's mother...

Well, everybody I know who has a job is making it on their own. Maybe I was raised differently or something, seeing as how this is such a phenomenon as the woman in the story says, but aren't you supposed to be fully responsible for yourself at some point? Meaning, you don't live beyond your means? Like, you live at home (if you have that option) until you can AFFORD to move out? You get an apartment in a cheaper area or you get roommates until you can AFFORD to move to where ever you want to go? You don't get a fucking dog if you can't AFFORD doggy daycare? You aren't automatically owed this great life the second you graduate from college. When the hell did this become the mindset?

Don't get me wrong -- I understand parents helping out to a certain extent, like maybe your mom and dad visit and buy you groceries or help you move or bail you out of an emergency situation where cash is warranted. But to ask them to bankroll your ûber-hip NYC lifestyle EVERY MONTH until...whenever the hell you tell them not to? And they're not effing Bill Gates or Oprah? Even if they were...UGH.

This idea kills me further because friends of mine who started out making a crappy salary in their dream jobs? Well, they took a second job so they can live the lifestyle they want -- more money for new clothes, nights out on the town, cellphone bills, rent money to live in a beautiful apartment. It's a pain to leave one job at 5 and go to another one, but this is the city you decided to live in. So don't feed me this crap that parents need to help kids in the big, bad city because starting salaries aren't that great and oh my gosh, they're going to be homeless and attacking unsuspecting tourists for money if you don't give them cash!!

Some might think this is jealousy talking, but I swear, if my parents ever offered me money while I have a job, just so I could live in Hoboken and go to Yankee games and pay my J Crew credit card bill, I'd stop them. Because that is money better spent on their retirement or home improvements or whatever. And they don't OWE me anything in the form of cash, and it sure as hell doesn't tell me they love me more. If I were in trouble, that's one thing, but getting them to give me an extra $300 bucks a month so I can ORDER TAKEOUT EVERY NIGHT?


Sunshine on My Ballclub Makes Them Win More

I swear, I feel like the Yankees have been off more than they've been playing so far this season. FIVE off days in the month of April? I know it's good for weather reasons and the fact that it gives them more rest, but jeez.

Also, six of the Yankees' seven wins have come under the light of day. Not only is sunshine good for the A-Rod Basil and El Capital Parsley, but it helps the Yankees grow too. Aww.

And I see the rain is being coward and avoiding coming around tomorrow night. Hmph. I was really looking forward being soaked on all three days of my birthday weekend, but I'll just have to be content with the thunderstorm/downpour nastiness of Saturday and Sunday I guess.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

And I Think To Myself, What a Not-So Bad Evening

Can the Idols always do a night out of their comfort zone? Because Standards night was the best we've seen since 50s night, and while both genres should be way harder for these kids than say, 21st Century night, I'd say four out of the remaining seven actually slayed last night, and in a good way. And this is great because it kept me from full on killing someone, as the Yankees are totally on my shit list after last night's game. But anyway.

If anything, last night should've showed EVERYONE how out of her league Kellie is. Because, seriously, the only votes she could've been getting last night were for her fucking "Aww, little ol' me?" routine. "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered (wow, more than two-syllable words there. What's a girl to do?) am ahhhhhhhh?" Are you kidding me? And she doesn't know that lyrics and words are the same thing? Get this chick off my screen NOW. Oh, wait, she's America's Sweetheart! She's just so durn nice and purty! Of course she deserves to stay over people who can actually sing!

Now that I've got that off my chest for like the 746th time: Ace and Taylor...meh. Ace should be going home tonight, but stupid things are always liable to happen when you give America a chance to vote on anything. Taylor...well, it was OK, but compared to all the good performances, OK isn't what you should aim for. Chris' performance made me go "Aww", as it was a pleasant change for him, and if you want stepping out of the box, he full-on leaped out of it (though, Simon, the rule last night was that they ALL had to sing the song as it was meant to be sung, no changing it up to fit their comfort zone. So stop patting yourself on the back for Chris' performance, jackass). Elliott's song choice was totally in his wheel house and he kicked ass on it, but will probably be in the Bottom 3 with at least one other non-deserving contestant because America loves them some Kellie and Taylor. Which leaves Paris and Katharine who were both awesome, but a couple of quibbles: 1) Paris needs to stop dressing like I dressed my Barbies in 1986. 2) Katharine needs to stop smiling during a SAD, WISTFUL song (and holy close-ups, Batman.) and 3) Kat and Paris EQUALLY embodied the whole standards format last night, SIMON. Katharine was great, but she wasn't any better than Paris. I suppose, though, like the message board people I loathe, he is enchanted by Katharine's magical boobs too.

But if that makes him forget his boner for Kellie, well, I can TOTALLY live with it.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Lawyers? Idiots? Never!

You know, I have a lot of opinions on this Duke Lacrosse/Rape story, but my leading one right now is: Lawyers are REALLY dumb. From the AP story reporting the arrest of two of the players...

Seligmann is "absolutely innocent," said his attorney, Kirk Osborn. "He's doing great. That's all I have to say."

Asked what led to the indictments, Osborn said: "Apparently it was a photographic identification. And we all know how reliable that is."

Well, that's a mighty interesting view to take, considering later in the story...

Defense attorneys have said time-stamped photos taken the night of the party show that the alleged victim was injured and impaired before she arrived.



Monday, April 17, 2006

It's My Blog, I Make the Rules...

....So I am giving myself quote of the day honors. Because when Jason announced he was playing softball in a bar league, I dorked out completely because it gives the copy department more opportunities to talk about sports, which is always a good thing. Anyway, after finding out he almost hit for the cycle (missing the homer) in his last game, I asked what position he's playing:

Jason: Left field
KB: Ohh! You're Hideki Matsui!
Jason: (brightly) Yeah! I'm Hideki Matsui!
KB: Minus the porn!

Now if only we can get him to say "Thank you and enjoy the game" while discussing occupational hazards or something...

Yeah! All Right! Woo!

Picture 1

Rain on Friday? Our first Season Ticket game of the season? YESSSSSSSSS!
(and thus begins my "reverse pscyhology against Mother Nature" strategy of the season)

Because ESPN Thinks NYC is a Bunch of Bandwagoners...

Picture 3

Um, I suppose this is why I saw seven Yankee hats/shirts on people this morning to the two Mets hats I spied. But whatever, to each his own. What pisses me off about this is the term ALL of New York. Don't eff'in speak for me, ESPN dumbasses, when you've proven to know jack about the city in the past. Say the Mets are having a good season, say they're the best-playing team in the city right now, say they're media darlings, whatever. But DON'T lump me in with your lame ass idea of what is and isn't New York City, and how I do or don't feel. Thanks.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

What Are a Tisket and a Tasket, Exactly?


The Chicken and Bo Bunny wanted to wish you all a Happy Easter (and yes, that is a baseball Easter Basket. AWESOME.)

This is also the first photo of his fowlness that I've taken with my new camera -- and if anyone out there knows how to upload mpegs to YouTube, and would know why in the name of hell mine won't load, please feel free to offer advice. Thanks.

How Can You Not Love Him?

Aww, El Capitan is so just freaking endearing, it's awesome.

Q: Did you ever play hooky in school?

A: Never. I went to school on Senior Skip Day.

Q: That's pathetic.

A: Isn't it?


Q: When would you rather be someone other than you?

A: Walking around sometimes, I would love to just be able to watch people, see how they act. Sometimes I would love to be invisible.

Derek Jeter: Captain, 4-World Series Rings Holder, Future-Hall-of-Famer and People Watcher! I don't know why this struck me as hilarious, but it does.

Friday, April 14, 2006

Movin' Out

So today marks the end of an era in my little apartment -- Carolyn, my roommate of almost 3 1/2 years, is moving out of our place and in with her true love Rick (he of the "I Have MLB Access and You Don't" taunting of present). And while I am bummed that I am losing the only other person in America who hates condiments as much as I do, and I am now the only remaining original inhabitant of the apartment, I am not devastated because they are going by my Friends/50 Mile Rule and moving...three blocks away. Yes, they are literally on the same street, just two minutes farther down. So it's not really like they're moving -- they're just a little bit of a farther walk than across the room.

And this all means that Melissa and I are getting a new roommate to join us in our pursuit of getting revenge on our upstairs neighbors when they are loud and rolling chair-rific. Some of you know who is moving in, but for those of you who don't, I'd like to see if you can guess. Your first clue: They have been mentioned on this blog -- and no, it's not A-Rod or A-Fed. But now that you mention it...hmm...

Thursday, April 13, 2006

In Which My Job is Evil. EVIL.

I just had to call the Sux media relations department. And their on-hold "music"? RED SOX HIGHLIGHTS.


Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Just Like Being There...Or Not

It's another gorgeous day in New York and the Yankees are playing another 1 p.m.-er at home and of course the day is just out to taunt me that I can't be there when my PATH train is crawling with people in Yankee garb going to the game and I'm going to work. If it wasn't for the fact that people are hard to come by in my department this week (Rana and Elizabeth will be observing their Passover-ly duties and Jason is in Iceland on a press trip attempting to sell the copy department "baby" on the black market) I so would have tried to get to one of the games, but alas, it's just not the right week.

At least no one seems to have a problem with me sneaking a listen to my headphones when Yahoo stalls and is all "Dude's been up at bat for like 12 minutes with a 1-2 count, can you believe it?" Not that Suzyn and Sterling are much of a comfort or a replacement for being there, but I take what I can get.

Can Anybody Find Me Somebody to Like on This Show?

Seriously -- if they decide to ditch any of the eight remaining finalists tonight (or all of them, for that matter), I will be OK with it. Because this is the most uninspiring group to ever take the stage, which is annoying because this may have been the most vocally talented Top 12 ever (save Kellie, Kevin and Bucky). I haven't been wowed by anyone since Chris' Hemorrhage performance - and that is just way too long ago.

I mean, Bucky is so average it isn't even funny, Ace is just effing clueless and vapid, Kellie is nowhere NEAR the vocal talent the judges want us to believe (because, I'm sorry, just because she didn't mess up as badly as everyone thought she would with BoRhap, doesn't mean she's actually good) and her "stupid" act is getting WAY transparent (and it pisses me off that America still thinks this is charming -- yay! we loves us some dumb blondes in America! It's great, y'all!), Chris and Katharine need to be sat down and have someone explain to them that screaming a song doesn't make the point get across any better, Elliott needs to chill the fuck out and learn how to perform to a crowd (sidenote: I think a lot of my Katharine/Elliott non-liking is stemming from their message board supporters, who are all "Squee! Kat's boobs were on display tonight! She is so beautiful and misunderstood!" and "So what if Elliott's been subpar the past few weeks. He's a vocal genius and makes me cry." I guess every Idol contestant has their rabid, all-too forgiving fanbases, but those two fanbases just annoy the hell out of me for some reason and I want to see them sad -- yes, I am evil.), Taylor needs to stop acting like he's on crack -- you can have fun on stage and not look like a lunatic, since that kind of alienates people and stuff -- and Paris...well, she was the only one I remotely enjoyed last night, but I'm waiting for her little diva act to make another appearance because I'm sure it's in there somewhere and that's not cool.

My bottom three prediction for tonight is Bucky, Ace and Chris. Yes, Chris, because there comes a time in every season where a chosen one visits the bottom three and the-powers-that-be want to freak everyone out -- especially in a wasteful hour-long results show like tonight's. Ace will probably go, but really, until these people figure out how to use their gift for good rather than meh, the lot of them can go home for all I care.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Because it Needs to be Said

Derek Jeter? If you ever need someone to bear your children, you've got a volunteer right here.



(ETA: To the peeps who went to the game -- did the Sound Man segment make a return? This is the type of thing that keeps me up at night)

Very, Very Frightening Indeed

Now, I knew Queen night on Idol was going to be a trainwreck, but holy christ, it's going to be every kind of disaster rolled into one when something like this is going down:

Kellie Pickler, Bohemian Rhapsody: "We only have 1 minute and 30 seconds, and the song is really long. Having to cut so many pieces is really hard to memorize, because I'm not singing the song as it's originally played.

And dudes, she's apparently singing a COUNTRIFIED version. How one COUNTRIFIES Bohemian Rhapsody is beyond me, but...oh my god, this is going to be FABULOUS.

But why oh why is no one doing the Flash Gordon theme? What good are they?

Sunday, April 09, 2006

Making Their Triumphant Return....


...The El Capitan Parsley and the A-Rod Basil! Sprouts should be forthcoming. And hopefully lots more wins too. Because today? Now that felt like baseball season.

Saturday, April 08, 2006

You Know What Sucks?

...that it doesn't even feel like basball season right now. And no, it's not because of the losing; it's because I'm falling asleep in the middle of every game, even when they did win (not that that's happened lately, but you know). I don't feel like it can be the baseball season until I see them play in daylight, play at home, or play at an hour when I'm not already in my pajamas. It can't be baseball season when I'm practically forgetting the game is being played when flipping through the channels and getting ready for bed. And it definitely can't be a new baseball season when it feels like this is just a continuation of October last year, complete with late nights and feeling like the Yankees never even left the state of California.

Thank the lord they're back in this time zone after the weekend. But why the fuck can't the schedule makers throw us a bone and give us an afternoon game today -- I've noticed this about the West Coast over the years. They ain't too fond of those 1 p.m. start times (4 p.m. EDT). Are they just too busy soaking up that West Coast sunshine that they can't be bothered to play a game in the afternoon? I mean, being out in the sun is one of the most pleasant things about going to the game sometimes. Maybe the sunshine dries out the water in the re-created Grand Canyon out their beyond the outfield wall or something?

And yes, I know it must suck for them to have our night games be on at 4 p.m. their time when they are at work -- but at least they know the result of the game before they go to sleep. I mean, I know I can handle "watching" on Yahoo, but I can't deal with waking up in the morning and rushing to find the score from a game that ended a little after 1 a.m. our time. SIGH.

Whatever. I don't live there. I live here. Where the Yankees can't get soon enough.

Friday, April 07, 2006

Quoted in the Cube

Well, Godparent Gate has been solved, but not before my co-workers got their two cents in. I was explaining my quandry of having to call the church I'm registered at with my family, even though, I, uh, haven't been there too often lately...

Art: What do you mean? You go home...every weekend.
Jason: And you come back and tell us about the sermons. I mean, you've saved me, KB.
Art: You even repeat the jokes the priest tells. You know the ones about football...
Jason:...and the one about the Whore of Babylon walking into a bar...

Also awesome was when I was looking up a male stripper (for Vicki's bachelorette party, calm down) and Art spied a long-haired dude named "Sampson" donning a bandana, and crouching in a swamp, which prompted Art to wonder, "Is he a soldier of fortune?" And then Elizabeth and Jason joined in the laughing and pointing perusing of strippers, and we were all quite taken with a dude named Caramel. Because while other strippers showed off their "personalities" by posing like Rodin's The Thinker, or as a construction worker (complete with "caution" tape) or leaning on walls in their undewear, Caramel was FULLY CLOTHED in both his photos. Like, you could invite him to come over for your book club instead of have him give you a lap dance. That rules.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Why Do I Even Bother Watching?

Well, all the shallow jackasses out there got their wish when the "fat" Mandisa got booted off tonight. I knew she wasn't going to win this thing, but god damn it, she should've outlasted Bucky, Kellie and Ace who have pretty much sucked for weeks now. Mandisa sucks on two nights when EVERYONE sucks and well, sorry. Talent is the new unhip.

And to all those people who were "disgusted" by her size or whatever -- I'm sure you're all drop dead gorgeous yourselves. So sure.

I hate America right now.

(But I did love the scene on lost with the mental hospital patients playing basketball. It may have been the best bit of television I've seen in weeks.)

In Which I Am a Bad, Bad Person

You know, I find it utterly ridiculous that someone like, say, Michael Corleone, can be a godparent while being a murderous retch, but because I don't belong to a church in Hoboken (and might not be able to join one in time) I may not get to be a godmother to my best friend's child. Because apparently showing your face at church is more important than what kind of person you are to the Catholics. And right now, I'm so ready to kick them to the curb because of that.

And yeah, I know The Godfather is just fiction. But think of all the assholes who do go to church every Sunday and register with said church, and then put me, an upstanding person (well, aside from a few choice curse words to sports columnists on this blog) next to them. Yeah, apparently I am less worthy because I am, gasp, not affiliated with any one parish. I am evil. I am not godparent material.

And if that's the case and I can't be a godmother, something I really want to do and think I'd be good at (and something I may not even get a chance to do again being an only child), well, then I'm totally and completely done with Catholicism.

How's that for spreading the good word?

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Late Nights Make Me Cranky

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiigh. Remember last season when I bitched about people at the Stadium freaking the fuck out everytime a fly ball was hit because they thought it was a home run? Well, I guess New York fans aren't the only ones guilty of this offense judging by how the Oakland crowd just outright gasped and screamed and went into convulsions over a Frank Thomas flyout...that was a good 20 feet in front of the wall. I wasn't paying attention and my heart sank when I heard this reaction, thinking Moose was done for. Then I looked up and I saw Damone track it down very easily. I mean, I was happy, but what the hell, people? When did everyone get so sucky at figuring out how far a ball is going? Especially when it's not exactly tagged or even near the warning track?

I assume these are the people for whom they build shiny, ADD-friendly ballparks, change team uniforms to be all splashy and cool and maneuver things like the All Star Game to make it "count". It's because of these excitement starved people that my beloved game gets tinkered with, and...blah.

But what gets me the most is that it is probably because of these people that MLB looked the other way for so long when it came to guys hitting home runs while abusing a certain substance. People LUST AFTER homers, if you judge by the freaked out overreactions of a lazy flyball these days. And while it certainly isn't the only exciting thing about the game, it's the most obvious thing to get excited over, if you're the fairweather type. So I have to wonder where these people would be should anything get done about the 'roids, and Jose Canseco's estimate of players who do use stop using and therefore hit less home runs and the game becomes a little less showy and more fundamental.

I know it wouldn't bother me in the least. But then I'm not the one jumping out of my seat when a ball is hit about 300 feet to dead center.

Yeah, Won't Be Rushing Out to See This One

Picture 1

I find this interesting because it's a poll from an NYC news site, meaning from a city directly affected by 9/11. I'm guessing I'm kind of behind my peers because I can't imagine EVER wanting to fork over $10.50 to relive the horror of that day, especially if it is fictionalized, and especially if the money is only going to line the pockets of Hollywood types so they can buy another fancy car or another house in Malibu. So, yeah, making a profit off a tragedy isn't exactly inspiring in my book.

Living it was enough for me, thank you very much. But to each his own, I guess.

Random Thoughts on Opening Night

Am I the only one hoping that it pees down rain in Oakland tonight, so they can play a day/night doubleheader tomorrow? I know it's tiring for the players and all, but 1)It's, like, the second day of the season, so if you are tuckered out already, we've got bigger problems than a doubleheader and 2) I'd really like to be able to watch one game this week without my body physically revolting and shutting down after 6 innings.

--You totally know certain little smarmy columnists folks are going to be all over A-Rod's "unneccesary" grand slam last night. But had he struck out or grounded into a double play, the collective rolling of people's (read: people who hate A-Rod) eyes would have pulled the earth of its axis. Because A-Rod cannot win, even when he's making the most of a bases loaded situation.

-- I loved the heads-down-play-through approach last night. And that they did EVERYTHING to score -- walks, base hits, bunts, home was the most fundamentally solid I think I've seen this offense in a long time.

-- After watching him fumbling around first base last night, I've decided Jason Giambi is SO the Jody Sawyer of this team. I mean, he's probably not the most graceful person out there, but at least you know he's dancing it like he feels it trying his best.

Dance, Jason, Dance!

--After watching Jorge have to catch RanJo in that relief appearance in the playoffs last year, and seeing how, gasp, good they were together, I thought they should just bury the goddamn hatchet and become a full-time battery, because they can get the job done. I'm glad to see they did something about it -- though my guess is the hatchet isn't so much buried as being stored in the back of RanJo's freezer or something.

-- I don't get too excited about huge Opening Day wins if only because I remember the 6-game winstreak and the ensuing ballyhoo that followed in 1992, and the 3-in-a-row losses, Joe's-totally-getting-fired opening of 1998. And we all know how those seasons ended. But that said, this year's home opener was a delight to watch, and if it can steal the front page of the paper, well, that's just gravy. (And can I say how much I love living in a town where a paper wil put baseball on its front and back pages? Especially when nationally, it's all about the NCAA tournament -- and the tourney doesn't even get a mention on the backpage of the Post, such is their baseball love. AWESOME.)

-- It's nice to know Grey Goose commercials can get even MORE pretentious. Therefore, I won't be drinking it this year, either.

-- I think I went over my allotted monthly text messages last night alone, thanks to the texting circle that is Steph, Tonya, Erica and me. Ah, it's good to be back!

Monday, April 03, 2006

It's the Hap-Happiest Season of All

The Chicken and his shiny new batting helmet and the Opening Day Cupcakes have some glad tidings for you...


Oh yeah, and the music (which is being a pissant and only working when it feels like it)? Just substitute basebally things for the whole mistletoe and caroling thing, because it sums up the general sentiments of the day. Which is: OMFG IT'S BAAAAAACKKK!!!!

If I could throw my arms around the collective fantasticness of Opening Day, I would, and I'd squeeze the bejesus out of it.

10 p.m. can't come soon enough.

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Sunday, April 02, 2006

The Biggest Score EVER

Check out what my enablers roommates brought back for me from BJ's:


Yes, my friends, that might be the biggest bag of crack any of us has ever seen. FORTY-TWO OUNCES. I could, like, drop this from my window and maybe kill somebody walking on the sidewalk. But I won't because I haven't had any in a few days and I'm starting to get the shakes and stuff and it isn't very nice...