Saturday, May 31, 2008

Keep A' Knockin' But You Can't Come In

Let me start this post by saying I am all for freedom of religion and speech. However. I am entitled to my freedom of not wanting to hear your speech about religion. And therefore, I am growing quite tired of the Jehovah's Witnesses in my area. Never before have I seen such a concentration of word-spreading-JWs, but they are all over my section of Jersey City. I have no problem with the groups who stand on the corner, holding The Watchtower and talking among themselves. What I do have a problem with? Getting conversed with, when all I'm doing is enjoying a little me time.

For example: A few weeks ago, I'm cleaning my bathroom, and someone buzzes my apartment. I figure it's a neighbor who's locked out, but I ask who it is before I buzz them up. I hear a woman say "Hi, I'm your neighbor and hdjskhfjkhdjk." I'm like "Excuse me?" and she's like "Do you think this is the end of days?" Now, if I'd been on my game, I would've said, "Well, if NBC doesn't pick it up, I'm sure there's some other network that will want to add a long-running soap to their lineup," but I instead said, "Uh, no. Sorry." She then buzzed the super next door, and I guess he thought the same thing I did, that it was someone needing to be buzzed in, because I hear him just hit the door button. A minute later, I peer out my peephole and see a woman carrying The Watchtower knocking on their door. And let's just say my super suddenly wasn't home.

Last Saturday, I'm enjoying my first real day in the park, sitting on my towel, listening to the Yankee game, watching male pigeons chase around their female counterparts. You know, relaxing. For once. And then I look up and see a group of about 7-8 people stroll in. Carrying The Watchtower. Now, if they'd just sat down and talked amongst themselves, I wouldn't have had a problem, but they were eyeing me, and looked like they were heading in my direction (I was the only person on my patch of grass) and I scrambled to grab my cell phone to pretend like I was talking on it, and they didn't come any closer. And had it been any other group, be it crazy Catholics or Jews for Jesus, I would have done the same thing. And then I left because I didn't want to get involved in any awkward conversations about the end of the world and whatnot.

So today when my door buzzer went off, I just went right on eating my Grape Nuts and watching the Weather Channel. I did look out my window, though, and saw about five or six people holding The Watchtower outside my building. So I guess they decided to bring in the reinforcements this time to try and sway the nonbeliever in Apt. 4. Maybe I should've let them up and said, "Hold on a minute, my Chicken would like to speak to you first" just to see what would've happened.

The Yankee Chicken spreads the Good News too.

Or perhaps I should go over to their Kingdom Hall down the street one day, knock on the door, and be like "Hi, I'm your neighbor, and I was wondering what you thought of the Yankees moving Joba Chamberlain to the starting rotation?"

Because baseball's always been a religion I could get behind.

Friday, May 30, 2008

3, 2, 1, UNcontact!

Did you guys see this story about the uncontacted tribes of Peru and Brazil? Well, I'm not buying that the pictures showing actual freaked-out, weapon-toting tribesmen are real:

Now, I believe these uncontacted tribes DO exist and I feel terribly about their plight, if loggers are indeed killing them off as stories have said. I'm just not entirely sure these pictures are real. I don't know why someone would make something like this up, but my eyes...well, this just looked REALLY weird to me. (Also, I found it a little strange to be giving these people, who just want to be left alone, PUBLICITY, but what do I know.)

And like Joe Girardi's maybe-it-was-fake tirade, I just wanted to go on record with my suspicions.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

How Loud Are The Garbage Trucks in My Hood?

They're so loud, that when I thought I heard a noise in my kitchen just now while reading, and a deafening truck was passing by at the same time, I absently reached for my TV remote control to hit the mute button. Seriously. Wishful thinking there, KB.

And that's only the first one of the night. There are roughly 47 more to come, and the windows are all open, so it's going to be a fun one.

Eeeeeee! of the Day

Just another day at the office:

Quotes of the Day: "Who are all those handlers? What happened to the good ol' days when it was Bette Davis, a cigarette, and an interviewer?" — Mona the Mets Fan

"I just want to feel normal again." — Elizabeth

Vision of the day: Production Guy Jeff getting his picture taken with each of the top two American Idol finalists.

Moment of the day that I thought happened, but actually didn't: David Cook making off with my Sharpie.

Hero of the Day: Rana, for the BEST. CONVERSATION. EVER. about fact-checking.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Because It Needs To Be Said

I am so glad that my friends aren't a bunch of walking clich├ęs who feel the need to do whatever society tells them, never questioning "the rules."God, how annoying my life would be if they were otherwise.

So thanks, friends, for being you and not what other people expect you to be.

I just wanted to say that.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

To Rate or Berate?

So I just finished all the episodes of My Boys (awesomeness, dudes), and in one of the best ones, "Douchebag and the City," they not only make fun of Sex and the City, they also lay into guys who behave like douches (and the word gets tossed around like machine gun fire. It's great.). In this case, their friend Brendan is turning into one and he has a douchey guy he hangs out with. He brings him up to the group's weekly poker game, and while he's yammering on the phone, he looks at PJ, our heroine, and declares "Yeah, she's like a 6.5" to which PJ looks horrified. And I was horrified after reading on the TWOP message boards that guys agreed she was a 6.5. She's pretty! And she's not even in the top third of good-lookingness? Eesh.

6.5? WTF?

This phenomenon, the rating of ladies, first became known to me my freshman year of college. A bunch of my male floormates (who were mostly nice guys) were sitting out in the hallway on a Wednesday night, procrastinating with studying. Studying for class, I should say, as they were studying the girls on our floor and rating them. I had my door open and they were sitting right outside, so it was kind of hard not to hear. They didn't rate me THANK GOD but when my next door neighbor, who I thought they'd think was a babe, walked by they were all "6." I was floored. The whole other 18 years I'd been on the planet, I thought only bitchy girls were the overly critical ones in existence, and then I discover straight, nice guys would do something like this? It kinda broke my heart. Especially if the standards were set like way, way high.

So what is it? What makes a girl get past 7? I wouldn't even know how to start rating a guy. Basically, if I see him and he's cute, he's cute. I'm not sure there are varying levels of this. Am I just not thinking hard enough?

Monday, May 26, 2008

Exchange of the Day, Which is a Holiday For Most


Me: You know those people who work normal jobs and are all "Ohhhhh, I hate Mondays."

Rana: You mean the people who don't know what a hellish beast Monday can really be?

Me: Exactly. You know where they are all today? Oh, right, they're HOME. Enjoying a day off. So FUCK THEM.

But not you, gentle reader. Of course I wouldn't begrudge you a day of restfulness and sunshine. Well, not too much.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Of Big Bats and Grill Knives

I kind of declared last night "Opposite Day" at the Stadium, because what the Yankees were doing to Seattle is kind of what we expect to get done to the Yankees when we are in attendance. So it was a nice, pleasant win for once, where we could laugh and chat with the visiting Tonya (and Cletus Cob!) and not have to worry about 1) losing an extremity to frost bite or 2) seeing the Yanks wander around the field aimlessly and call it playing baseball. In fact, it was the anniversary of Steph's kidnapping (and Freddy Sez's birthday -- two things that are completely unrelated, but we did our best to bring both happenings together in our imaginations), and the Yankees honored that in the best kind of fashion. I'd also like to thank Shelley Duncan for the home run I so nicely asked for, thus jump starting the raping and pillaging of the Mariners.

It was also our traditional Memorial Day Friday game (our fourth in a row) and while it was again Fleet Week and the end of National Boating Safety Week (YES!), it was lacking in Lava Pens. Now, in 2005 they gave them out on the Thursday before Memorial Day Weekend, but the last two years we've gotten them on the Friday game, and I've kind of gotten accustomed to looking forward to their awesomeness this time of year. Alas, I don't even think they're on the giveaway schedule at all, and last night was our 1,736th Cap Night (a ridiculous All Star Game promotion, with a WAY boring hat bearing the letters ASG. Woooo!). Sigh.

After the game I headed to the 'boken, where Dexter and Vicki hosted the Hoboken Crew for a BBQ, and where I almost lost my leg thanks to Jesse's "sabering" of a bottle (for which Christina gets quote of the night honors, when, after Jesse mentions that it helps to have an actual sword in such matters, she responds "...and you used a grill knife."). I am also quite humbled when I am maybe the most sober person at the gathering... and I still suck way more than everyone else at Guitar Hero. I fully intend to kick ass on the drums or vocals when D&V much-stalked shipment of Rock Band arrives on Tuesday...

Friday, May 23, 2008

Scenery Chewing For a Win

So, maybe it's because I'm not used to a manager having an all-out fit when arguing a call, but Joe Girardi's tantrum last night seemed so...fake to me. I know, I know. But when you resort to kicking your hat when the game is tied and your team has been sucking lately... it just felt like a calculated, get-the-team-fired-up move. I'm not saying it's wrong to do such a thing (desperate times...), I just wanted to go on record as saying it just felt a little over-the-top, in an "I'm an aging diva and I need a Daytime Emmy" sort of way.


I'm just saying, don't be surprised when he totally slaps Adam Chandler Hank Steinbrenner at the next Yankee masquerade ball...

Thursday, May 22, 2008

A is for Adorable

Remember the A-Team? Here, let the Legos help you out:

And the original, to refresh your memory:

Tuesday, May 20, 2008


So, Paula Abdul used the unbelievably ridiculous line "you're standing in your truth" to David Cook tonight, and I KNOW this is a song lyric or something close to a song lyric and I can't figure out what it is. I've tried Google, but only Christian songs come up, and that sure as hell ain't what I'm thinking of. So I ask you, friends who have the same taste in music as me, for a little help...

ETA: I got it! It was "Sometimes When We Touch" (which I broke down here once): "I"m just another writer, still trapped within my truth." Which I'm still kinda WTF on what that means.

Survey Says!

In order to wait out the parade of garbage trucks and the stomperificness of my upstairs neighbor, I'm going to do a survey thingy. I'd say you should all do this (though Jamie is exempt since she recently did a 100 Things), but considering almost everyone has, oh, DELETED their blogs or just ignored them for the last six months, I should just let it go. SIGH.

Do you know the words to The Star Spangled Banner? Yes. I am one of those people who will freak out if the national anthem is changed to "America the Beautiful" and I'm not entirely sure why.

Do you think the guy should always pay on the first date? I think a dude always having to pay is so freaking outdated. A man shouldn't have to pay for my company simply because he has a penis and I don't.

When was the last time you stayed awake for over 24 hours? it was when I was 12, at my friend Maureen's birthday sleepover. I was up for 27 straight hours and almost passed out from exhaustion in the Bradlees later after my parents picked me up. (Weirdly enough, I never pulled an all-nighter in college and would always get 2-3 hours of sleep if I could after studying.)

What is the last movie you saw in a theater? Prince Caspian, with Ken and a lot of people who were "easily entertained" by the trailer for Beverly Hills Chihuahua. Like, they were almost rolling in the aisles. Which kind of disturbed us.

What were you doing for a living 9 years ago? Random number but.... Getting ready to graduate college, and then onto McGraw-Hill. And that, my friends, is where I learned all that lovely stuff about corporate America. Good times.

What is the best compliment you have ever received? "You make me know I'm not gay."

Do you read on the toilet? How do people do this? I've always been intrigued. If I sit on the toilet too long, I start losing circulation in my legs. Maybe I have the wrong toilet?

Favorite author? Tom Perrotta, Jhumpa Lahiri, Judy Blume, Beverly Cleary

Have any snow dances/superstitions for getting a day off of school? HAVE? Not so much anymore, because snow doesn't cancel work in New York City. But when I was a kid, I remember people saying to wear your pajamas inside out.

What's your favorite Shakespeare play? Much Ado About Nothing

Done any gambling? YES! (I added this question to make Ken scramble for that intervention he says I need)

Your opinion of the 80s? My childhood -- one big, long summer vacation with Christmas and a few snow days mixed in-- so they kind of ruled.

If you could change something in any book, movie or TV show: Okay, like, Jo TOTALLY would've married Teddy/Laurie in Little Women and he wouldn't have married her sister. That is just so, so wrong. And irritating.

Favorite Disney movie? Lady and the Tramp

What is your stance on politics? I really hate being accosted by candidate supporters on the street and on the phone. Like, it's a personal thing, in the same realm as religion for me. So if I don't know you, it's none of your damn business. Oh, yeah, and no, I'm not giving you money.

What song are you listening to or thinking of right now? "Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)" by Sly and The Family Stone

What can you never say no to? Hanging out with good friends. Which is why writing the novel is taking forever to finish, but what the hey.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Semi-Annual Hate Thy Neighbor Post

Good freaking god, what is it like to live below someone who actually goes to bed before 2 a.m.? In the six years I have lived in Hudson County, this has never happened for me. Except for the month or so where the current dude above me actually disappeared... and then the holy terror toddler next door took over in his stead (he, thankfully, is starting to go to bed before midnight these days).

I seriously do not understand who the fuck I pissed off to always get the bizarro night owls above me. My building has carpeting in the bedrooms, but very little padding, so I hear this guy and I think his girlfriend stomp/pace around for about three hours before they finally go to sleep -- I shudder to think of what it would be like with straight-up hardwood floors. The dude also talks NONSTOP. And also likes to open and close his drawers repeatedly. All this I hear with earplugs and my trusty white-noise machine blaring. I'm at my wits' end. I don't know how I can complain to them (and they are not all-out douchebag assholes, like Chewboken and Sasquatch were) about this since all they're doing is merely living out their lives in a schedule that really doesn't jibe with my own.

So I will complain here instead.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

It's the Only Way, You'll Ever Know Oh Oh

So The Yankee Chicken and I were just dancing around and singing "Easy Lover" (a song that just...moves me lately) into our hairbrushes (he, of course, took the Philip Bailey part, where as I was Phil Collins -- The Chicken's falsetto is much better than mine) and it made me wonder about all the sucktastic people on the planet who have inspired awesome, angry songs. I guess we should be grateful for all the world's scheming, manipulating, cheating, disregard-for-others assholes, because without them, the radio would be a much more boring place.

Also awesome today is having a big-old, much-needed gossip/ventingfest and finding you're on the same page as others about A LOT of things. The only problem is making them happen more than once every three years...

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Now THAT'S How You Do The Office

That's maybe the second episode this season I liked outright. From "special" Kevin, to Kelly talking about visiting Ryan in prison, to Michael taking on Supertramp, to evilbitch Jan, to "I'm pretty sure she's baked on a professional level" to Andy's half-assed proposal ("I'm Mr. Andrew Bernard") to Dwight and Angela getting dirty in the office with Phyllis finding them...that's the show I know and love. Aaaaaand now we have to deal with another long hiatus. Sigh.

And thank you, thank you, thank you, Office writers, for steering clear of the JAM fanwanking and giving us a very fulfilling episode with all the other characters, as well as advancing the couple's plot. To have Jim propose tonight would've just been overly gooey and sappy (especially in the same parking lot where he so awesomely/touchingly/believably/shockingly -- read: not cliche -- professed his love to Pam for the first time), which this show avoided in the last two season finales with regards to Jim and Pam, in lovely fashion. Also, they didn't have a full season of episodes to let their relationship play out, so it would've felt WAY forced. Bravo for holding back and letting it build on your terms, not on the demands of a few crazy people.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

When a PDA is More Than a BlackBerry

In the late 60s, early 70s, my mom used to work in lower Manhattan. She likes to remind me about how, during commuting times, the subways became what she lovingly refers to as "Snatch and Grab It Hour," due to the amount of pickpockets and hooliganism that went down on crowded trains back in the day.

I'd like to take that term, "Snatch and Grab It Hour," and apply it to my own commute on the PATH after a certain hour. But I'm not talking about wallets and pocket watches getting snatched and grabbed. Nay, I'm talking about people snatching and grabbing at the body parts of their significant others in way nasty and inappropriate ways, subjecting the innocent (who just want to get the fuck home, not watch people fuck on the way home) to train porn.

Now, hear me out. I am not that public-transportationly prudish -- if people want to hold hands or put their arms around each other or give a quick kiss when one party is departing, that's one thing. Love is a wonderful thing, as Michael Bolton reminds us. However. When I have to watch a woman wrap her leg around her beloved's, to pull him closer as she shoves her hands down his front pockets and he grabs her ass as they make out, I'm gonna be a little squicked out. And they are standing right in front of you, so it's kind of hard to miss it or look away. I don't like being forced to consider what is going on with your junk when I have no choice in the matter, you know?

It just gets worse as the hours progress, because that means people have more time to ingest more alcohol and become more horny-without-borders. It's gotten to the point where I hate taking the later trains, not because they stop in Hoboken first, but because I'm going to have to bear witness to groping of monstrous proportions. And I don't know if it's the act itself that bugs me or if it's the complete disregard for the 25 or so people who are stuck having to watch you as the train careens under the Hudson River with NO WAY OUT OF THE SITUATION. Like, eww.

I don't drive the PATH train through your bedroom, so kindly keep the bedroom off my PATH train. Kay?

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

In Which I State the Obvious, But I'm Frustrated, So There

Ten years ago this week, I was at a UD Review end-of-the-year party, which was right after Frank Sinatra died and right before Delaware's baseball team made it to the NCAA playoffs (also right before I interviewed Northeastern's Carlos Pena.) It was also two days before David Wells threw his perfect game (still probably some of the most eventful four days of my life). But what I remember most about that party was my friend Ryan showing me a USA Today article that pointed out that the 1998 Yankee team was on the way to being one of the best teams EVER. And it was MAY, people. That's how freaking good they were a month and a half into the season.

Now, I'm not one of those people who gets all RARRR! The Glory Days! and stuff, but if you compare that team to the current incarnation, it's fairly easy to spot what's wrong -- the 10-years-ago guys (hell, even the five-years-ago-guys) were way fucking more consistent. I know, Captain Obvious much? But, seriously. The 1998 Yankees were made of up of solid starting pitching, which the current team lacks, but I'm talking about the lineup. These were guys who were GOOD, but not GREAT players and all peaking at the right time, which, yeah, that's kind of hard to replicate. The current team is a menagerie of lost youths, creaky aging superstars and who-the-hell-are-yous being called upon to stop the bleeding. I know, injuries have plagued them all year and they haven't had a chance to have a normal lineup, but I can honest to god say there isn't one guy on this team right now I'd trust with a bases-loaded, two-out, bottom-of-the-9th situation. And yes, that includes the Captain. Whereas in 1998, I felt a sense of calm about everyone 1-9. I don't feel at ease with this current lineup at all, and I think that's because the current lineup doesn't feel at ease themselves. Just a hunch.

I don't know how a team overcomes something like this, when there is so much talent lying dormant here, but I really, sincerely and truly hope it happens soon. It's' frustrating as a fan to sit and watch this because you have no control over it. But I'm sure somebody does and I wish that somebody (or somebodies) would step up already and just be balls-out inspiring and awesome. For more than three games in a row.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Awesomestly Cheesy Declaration of Feelings From Any Movie Ever

If you've never seen Dirty Dancing (and seriously, how could you not? It's on at least four times a day), you are totally missing out on one of the greatest cheesy movies ever made. I don't know one woman my age who hasn't had their life touched in some way by the antics of Baby and Johnny Castle and the wallet-stealing Schumachers and that douchebag Robbie the waiter. My personal favorite scene from the movie is when Baby goes to Johnny's cabin after her dad has insulted him after Richard Marx's wife Penny has a botched abortion. (I know, right?) Anyway, this leads to Johnny talking about his thug life (eating jujubes and ladies stuffing diamonds in his pockets) and Baby saying that he can rise above it, and then offering maybe one of the best declarations of love (after knowing him for roughly a week -- I guess learning to mambo can do that) ever captured on celluloid:

Too bad it doesn't cut into the whole Solomon Burke "Let's Dance as Foreplay" routine, because that is just the icing on the cake, man.

Thursday, May 08, 2008

Exchange of the Day

It's fucking cold in our office. How cold is it?:
Jason: I've got the consumption
Editor Friend Mark: I'm getting a yeast infection
KB: My left testicle hasn't descended.

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

To Everything There is a YouTube

What's a good way to forget how god awfully cold it is in your office (I know! We can't win)? Using the words "Willie Ames" and "dangerous cocaine jungles of Venezuela" in the same breath.

Also? Checking out Bibleman:

His stained-glass lair and camo-pant-wearing, net-gun-toting sidekick (who also has the mooooooves, man) set it apart from any superhero you may have seen. And also, the quoting of Corinthians.

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

In Which Bob Dylan Shows Us How to Convert Heartbreak Into Hell Yeah

I'm not a big Bob Dylan fan (which is weird considering Bruce Springsteen was so heavily influenced by his music) but after hearing Jason Castro eff up on "Mr. Tambourine Man" tonight, I had to listen to the few Dylan things I have on my computer. And I'd forgotten just how awesome of a song "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right" is. Despite the title, it's kind of a bitterly awesome song. Consider the final verse:

I'm walkin' down that long, lonesome road, babe
Where I'm bound, I can't tell
But goodbye's too good a word, gal
So I'll just say fare thee well
I ain't sayin' you treated me unkind
You could have done better but I don't mind
You just kinda wasted my precious time
But don't think twice, it's all right

I can't tell if it's passive-aggressive or sincere, and that's what makes it great. Because there really is that gray area during heartbreak where you're neither one nor the other and both at the same time. I guess this is what makes Bob Dylan Bob Dylan.

Also, "You just kinda wasted my precious time"? Sing it, Bob.

Awesomeness of the Day

You know when there's something you reallllly gotta say to someone, but it probably isn't the wisest thing? Well, I've found saying it to someone else instead helps. And I thank Rana for being her Dr. Melfi to my Tony Soprano today. Or something.

Also helpful? Reveling in someone else's success. You know who you are, oh awesome one.

Oh, and it's also great when the "Lucky Laundromat" you frequent finally lives up to its name, offering up an actual hot guy doing laundry next to you. Doesn't matter if you don't speak. You can never have enough eye candy when doing mundane tasks.

ETA: So, I had to run down and grab my clothes from the dryer during the Idol halfway mark, and Cute Laundromat Guy was using the dryer next to mine and he totally knocked my open dryer door into my shoulder (just missing my head) and he was like "I'm sorry." And my grand comeback? "That's okay!" And then we collected our laundry and went our separate ways.

I swear to god, "meet cute" only happens in Meg Ryan movies. Blargh.

You Take the Good You Take the Bad

Thanks to Mona the Mets Fan for alerting me to this. And to Dexter for informing me about the rest of the plot, which includes Jermaine Jackson's handlers throwing Tootie's gift in the bathtub when they think it's a bomb. AWESOME.

Sunday, May 04, 2008

This One's For the Guys

So, upon the recommendations of Jamie and Steph, I've started catching up on My Boys, a show about a woman sports writer/sports fan and her coterie of male friends. When I first saw previews for it, I was like "Ugh, they're going to make this female character act like a dude because that's how Hollywood always portrays a lady sports fan." But, five episodes in, I am pleasantly surprised.

Also five episodes in, I've had an epiphany about myself. I don't want a "man." I want a "guy" (the fifth episode sets up this concept, so don't think I'm just drawing this out of thin air or something). Because I don't want to be with someone I can't relate to, thus having to compromise myself. Like, a "man" who takes you to fancy restaurants and knows his wines and doesn't own a casual wardrobe and isn't really into sports or TV is fine...but that is so not me. I want a jeans-and-(navy blue)T-shirt-wearing, pub-going, sports-and-Lost/Celebrity Rehab/Mystery Science Theater-watching dude.

To illustrate:


Mr. Big. No thanks.


Brendan. Yes please!

And this makes sense because most of the males I associate with would fall under the category of "guys." And most of them have big hearts and don't dick people around, which I think are qualities that always get unfairly attributed to "men," when, in reality, if someone is behaving badly, they are neither "guy" nor "man" and are thus a "douchebag."

So. Guys and Men? Both have penises and facial hair. And both are worthy of praise. But when the shit comes down, I want someone who's going to surprise me with a trip around the country to see all the MLB baseball stadiums, not a weekend in Paris.

I guess that makes me a guy's girl. And that's fine by me.

Saturday, May 03, 2008

A Yankee Battles Southern Fare

I thought sitting out in last night's freezefest was hard (though thanks for the win, boys! When you get the most B-team of B-team lineups, you don't have much in the expectations department, but they surprised me. Wang did not, because he's been teh shit all season. If only he could pitch every Friday night game...) but cutting the layer of fat off a pork shoulder? Oh my god, you don't want to know, people. I am surprised Hercules didn't have it as one of his tasks, but then I don't think they had Kentucky Derbys and the need for pulled-pork sandwiches back in his day. I hope this fucker comes out right, because I almost sawed my fingers off to get rid of that layer was just gross to look at. There's being close to your food and there's being close to your food, you know?

I would've taken a picture, such was the shock of its size, but I didn't want to turn everyone into vegetarians. I know it almost turned me over (but then I remembered bacon. Mmmmm.).

ETA: So, neither of my horses won, but I've got to say, the dully named Big Brown looks pretty damn good and could possibly...well, you know. Also, it's a bummer about Eight Belles -- that she had to be euthanized and that Erica has now sworn off horse racing as a result, because she's convinced she's bad luck.

Anyhow, the pulled pork was pretty good. I can't say great, because pulled-pork isn't a fave of mine (it just seemed appropriate for the day) but it fell so, so nicely off the bone after cooking in my dutch oven for five hours. Seriously, all meat should be so easy to deal with (minus the battle of the fat). And then we had sweet tea and mint julips courtesy of Dexter and Jim Beam (only Kentucky bourbon allowed today), and Kentucky pie for dessert. The only thing missing was Neil Diamond's "Kentucky Woman." And Colonel Sanders.

Friday, May 02, 2008

I Got The Horse Right Here

Dudes! I went to an OTB! For the first time ever! Every year, I always think "Well, I watch the Triple Crown races, why don't I put money on it?" And then I remembered I work in Manhattan, where OTBs are kind of like Starbucks. I was concerned I might get molested or something (going in with my craaaaazy $2 bet), but then Jason said he'd go too, and we were anticipating people with red noses and gin blossoms and hacking coughs and crazy eyes (just like the diverstiy of Aqueduct). But we weren't even the least-shady people there and, man, I'm kind of disappointed by this. If I'm going to an OTB, I want it to be chock full of weirdos, not people in business suits. But I think that's more because even normal people bet on the Kentucky Derby, and if it were, say, a Friday in February, that the clientele would be a little more rough.

Anyhow, I laid down $2 on Big Truck (50-1, WOOOOO!) and $5 on Pyro (because I want to be a little smart). And then I put down two bets for Rana, because she had become intrigued by this (and now she can't be part of my intervention as a result...mwah ah ah) and I totally think one of her horses is going to win now...

KB's 7th-Annual Derby Pick

Yes, for as long as I've had this blog, I've been picking Derby winners based on their name. It's only gotten me a win once (GIACAMO! -- Still maybe one of the awesomest horsie names ever), but you know I don't mess with tradition. This year, I'm not loving any names, but I'm kind of torn between Pyro (good odds), Big Truck (really bad odds) and Gayego (because it sounds like Mike Gallego). But Big Truck would have the best payday for the people who bet on him, so I'll go with that. Because there's nothing better than seeing people bet on a "favorite" in a sport that's completely unpredictable and then when said favorite loses, be all red-faced and pissed about, especially in the presence of someone who just scored big on a looooong shot.

But if that can't happen, I think I'll also be happy if we get a horse that can be a legit Triple Crown contender. It's been too friggin' long since that happened...

(Ken, where's my intervention?)

Thursday, May 01, 2008

Maybe I Just Need Someone to Attack Me With Fluffy Fingers

I have to stop reading message boards about The Office. Because, I swear to god, the pscyhos who think Jim and Pam are real people are going to do me in. I'm not talking about the people who like them as characters and discuss them around the water cooler/on blogs/in forums because they liked/disliked what happened in an episode. No, I'm talking about the ones who can't live their day out happily if Pam and Jim DON'T GET MARRIED OMG!!!1111!! Like, I'm getting to the point where I don't want Jim and Pam together because I want these people to feel kneed in the groin. And I LIKE Jim and Pam!

I think this stems from having worked at a soap opera publication, where I witnessed firsthand how show fans can become crazy obsessive and start missing the bigger point: it's entertainment, it's not your life. And sometimes, you've got to roll with what the writers have in mind instead of have them pander to you, because, really, who wants a fucking cliche that you can write yourself?


-- Darryl was a Warrior and a Newsie? Probably one of the best scenes this season.

-- Dwight was using a Scranton Yankees mug!!

Overall, I liked the episode, but I think the strike-shortened season is hurting the show a bit. Like, it would've been nice to see some of these arcs played out over the last few months. Like, the Ryan gunning for Jim thing and Toby's sudden urge to move in on Pam (after quietly crushing) would've been better if it had been done subtly instead of all at once these last few weeks, you know? Still, this episode was MUCH better than last week's awkwardfest, so I'll take it.