More Corey
Steve sent me the link to Corey Feldman's official site (www.coreyfeldman.com). If you press the link for "Messages from Corey," you can see who he supports for president!
Friday, February 06, 2004
Salad of Champions
Through the SBD, I have had daily opportunities to experiment with the making of salads, and I think that I have perfected my recipe.
1 serving of fresh spinach
1 half chopped cucumber
1 tsp parmesan cheese
1/4 fresh avocado
1 chicken breast, grilled and chopped
1 tsp of sunflower seeds
light coating of balsamic vinegar dressing
This is amazing. Maybe too many bad fats to have all the time, but you gotta live! Plus, I'm trying to ignore the pastries sitting in our kitchen at work.
Through the SBD, I have had daily opportunities to experiment with the making of salads, and I think that I have perfected my recipe.
1 serving of fresh spinach
1 half chopped cucumber
1 tsp parmesan cheese
1/4 fresh avocado
1 chicken breast, grilled and chopped
1 tsp of sunflower seeds
light coating of balsamic vinegar dressing
This is amazing. Maybe too many bad fats to have all the time, but you gotta live! Plus, I'm trying to ignore the pastries sitting in our kitchen at work.
License to Jive
Oh man: check out the clip of Corey Feldman "singing" in 1993. I dig his moves the most!
Oh man: check out the clip of Corey Feldman "singing" in 1993. I dig his moves the most!
Addendum to previous Michael Pitt adulation:
Gracie informed me that Mr. Pitt is currently on the cover of TimeOut New York and apparently "not the sharpest knife in the drawer." She also sent me this link, which is awesome and includes one of his deep, deep thoughts. (Thank you, Ms. Grace!)
Gracie informed me that Mr. Pitt is currently on the cover of TimeOut New York and apparently "not the sharpest knife in the drawer." She also sent me this link, which is awesome and includes one of his deep, deep thoughts. (Thank you, Ms. Grace!)
Thursday, February 05, 2004
My Entertainment Weekly frightened me this morning while I was on the metro. I opened the large inside ad for the upcoming "Sopranos" season, and immediately their theme song came on, loud and clear. Closed it quickly: stopped. Opened it: started again. HOW much money did they spend on those things?
In this week's New Yorker, there's a big old picture of Michael Pitt beside their review of Bertolucci's movie, "The Dreamers." Michael Pitt was also Tommy Gnosis (of the bad hair) in the wonderful "Hedwig and the Angry Inch," and the burnout guy in the scary, pervy "Bully." He definitely rocked those low-slung silver rock star pants at the end of "Hedwig." Anyway, I once would have described him as a poor man's Leonardo DiCaprio (since they look alarmingly alike), but now I would amend that and say that he's a riskier, more interesting Leonardo DiCaprio. He's totally dreamy in that creepy kind of way. You could have a short-lived relationship with the man, but anything beyond that, he would probably get all intense and freak you the hell out. (as an aside, I just IMDBed him, and he was born in 1981. Five years my junior--that must mean he was like 19 when he did "Hedwig.")
I already sent this link to people a few weeks ago, when the story came out, but the tale sticks with me still. I LOVE it. I love the guy set his brother on fire, and was all annoyed when his brother tried to pat out the flames:
According to Racine County Circuit Court records, Carey and his brother, Joshua Cook, were staying with Carey's girlfriend. Carey came home and started yelling at Cook, and accused Cook of sleeping with his girlfriend. The more Cook denied it, the more agitated Carey became.
"Hold on a sec, you think I'm playing with you?" Carey asked Cook just before he grabbed a bottle of lighter fluid, according to court records. "I'll kill you. I done beat three murder trials already, and I'll kill you, too."
Carey squirted the lighter fluid onto Cook's pants.
"Tell me, tell me you think I'm playing," Carey said. He lit Cook's pants on fire.
The first two times, Cook patted out the fire on his pants, according to court records. Carey told him not to "put out my fire," and the third time Cook hesitated. When he did try to pat out the fire, it was too late.
According to Racine County Circuit Court records, Carey and his brother, Joshua Cook, were staying with Carey's girlfriend. Carey came home and started yelling at Cook, and accused Cook of sleeping with his girlfriend. The more Cook denied it, the more agitated Carey became.
"Hold on a sec, you think I'm playing with you?" Carey asked Cook just before he grabbed a bottle of lighter fluid, according to court records. "I'll kill you. I done beat three murder trials already, and I'll kill you, too."
Carey squirted the lighter fluid onto Cook's pants.
"Tell me, tell me you think I'm playing," Carey said. He lit Cook's pants on fire.
The first two times, Cook patted out the fire on his pants, according to court records. Carey told him not to "put out my fire," and the third time Cook hesitated. When he did try to pat out the fire, it was too late.
I like Margaret Cho's blog: she slays me, but she is also incredibly astute. In one particular entry about ignorance (or "ignance," as she calls it), she as an aside brings up her theory about relationships of the "dancing candlestick variety":
For example, "We cannot go see the fireworks display there on the Fourth of July because that place is 70% Mexican" and he was not kidding, that it was not an ironic twist on pie charts and race, that it was actually a 100% racist statement. made the relationship one of the dancing candle variety (one earlier discussed as the "Beauty and the Beast" phenomenon, when one partner is outrageously better than the other, so much so it leaves the outside observer to beg the question, "Where the dancing candle at?").
For example, "We cannot go see the fireworks display there on the Fourth of July because that place is 70% Mexican" and he was not kidding, that it was not an ironic twist on pie charts and race, that it was actually a 100% racist statement. made the relationship one of the dancing candle variety (one earlier discussed as the "Beauty and the Beast" phenomenon, when one partner is outrageously better than the other, so much so it leaves the outside observer to beg the question, "Where the dancing candle at?").
Welcome back to DC, Clarence!
I had dinner at M&S Grill with Clarence and Jonathan last night where I resisted ordering the $1.95 (!!) happy hour burger, but I did abscond with some of Clarence's generous portion of fries and had two glasses of Shiraz. (I did feel kind of terrible later that night, so I paid for it in guilt and a churning stomach.) Clarence and I agreed that we would take beginners Spanish together at USDA this spring or summer. That's going to be perfect, in that when I finally run into Gael Garcia Bernal, I'll be able to speak his language, paving the way to our imminent lifelong, sometime tumultuous, but always exciting, relationship.
I had dinner at M&S Grill with Clarence and Jonathan last night where I resisted ordering the $1.95 (!!) happy hour burger, but I did abscond with some of Clarence's generous portion of fries and had two glasses of Shiraz. (I did feel kind of terrible later that night, so I paid for it in guilt and a churning stomach.) Clarence and I agreed that we would take beginners Spanish together at USDA this spring or summer. That's going to be perfect, in that when I finally run into Gael Garcia Bernal, I'll be able to speak his language, paving the way to our imminent lifelong, sometime tumultuous, but always exciting, relationship.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
This whole WSJ article is about how the term 'like' is becoming part of the lexicon. My dad would especially love this, since this is his pet peeve.
It's finally warming up outside, thankfully. I trudged to the post office today, and it was so nice outside with the sun shining and the black ice melting. Last night when I walked through a parking lot to meet Bronwyn for coffee, I made the mistake of choosing to walk on the sidewalk. I totally fell ass over teakettle in about 0.2 seconds. This reminds me of when I went on this trek through the hills of Chiang Mai with Suzi and our friend, Carrie. Throughout this whole thing/ordeal, we had to pick our way over the rocks of several running streams or (what seemed to me to be) small rivers. Most people slipped maybe once or twice, but I managed to fall in EVERY SINGLE TIME. This was slightly funny at the time, and definitely funny in retrospect, but it was totally unfun to slog along in the wet shoes and socks. Some people were born with a natural grace, I guess, and then there's me.
Thinking back to that trek...man, what a humility-inducing experience. It was three days of walking through the hills, which were admittedly gorgeous, but by the end of it I was dead to the world. The craziest part was that the three people who led the pack and zoomed on ahead were the smokers. We would catch up to where they were, and as we gasped for breath and kneaded our howling calves, they would be taking in their last nicotine puff and immediately setting off again. Bastards.
Now, it's the running joke between Suzi and I. When we were in different towns, and would visit eachother, we would assure one another that we signed us up for another trek...this time for a week.
Thinking back to that trek...man, what a humility-inducing experience. It was three days of walking through the hills, which were admittedly gorgeous, but by the end of it I was dead to the world. The craziest part was that the three people who led the pack and zoomed on ahead were the smokers. We would catch up to where they were, and as we gasped for breath and kneaded our howling calves, they would be taking in their last nicotine puff and immediately setting off again. Bastards.
Now, it's the running joke between Suzi and I. When we were in different towns, and would visit eachother, we would assure one another that we signed us up for another trek...this time for a week.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
Go to the Quiznos subs web site and check out their whacked out new commercials. I love that they ran with this (muuuuch better than the raised-by-wolves one). The deal sounds pretty good too. (Thanks to Steve for this link).
Yesterday I went with my boss and Don to listen to this speaker at the Spy Museum. We went as guests of my boss's friend who works there and to fill seats: the opportunity comes up sometimes, and I usually try to take advantage of it since this is something I would normally never think to do.
Last night's speaker was a fellow who had written a book about spy shows on American television. He began with the likes of "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." and ended with "24" and "Alias," (he likes both very much, btw). The speaker himself was a really interesting guy since he had been diagnosed with some sort of eye disorder when he was a young man that has now rendered him completely blind. So, while he was presenting, when the clips would go on, he would rely on audience reaction and sounds to figure out what was on the screen.
The audience was filled with spy-show honchos (besides yours truly, of course), which really came out in the Question and Answer section at the end.
Audience Member #1: Can you think of *anyone* worse than Robert Goulet in "Blue Moon Agency?"
Audience Member #2: Um, are you forgetting the "Seventh Level" of 1962 that ran four episodes?
Audience Member #1: Touche, mon frere!
Of course, this is just the general idea since I didn't catch any of the actual names people threw around. I am pretty ignorant of spy shows in general, but what I came out with from this whole session was this:
1.) "The Avengers" (of the 1960s) and "The Prisoner" = Good.
2.) The 1980s as a decade for spy shows = Bad.
3.) The audience will boo you if you besmirch "Hogan's Heroes." (One dude did this, and everyone started protesting. One man behind me was so moved in his anger, he blurted out "IDIOT!!")
I wish that someone had given me the mike, I would have asked if people had been watching UPN's 'America's Next Top Model," season deux. Now that's a show!
Last night's speaker was a fellow who had written a book about spy shows on American television. He began with the likes of "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." and ended with "24" and "Alias," (he likes both very much, btw). The speaker himself was a really interesting guy since he had been diagnosed with some sort of eye disorder when he was a young man that has now rendered him completely blind. So, while he was presenting, when the clips would go on, he would rely on audience reaction and sounds to figure out what was on the screen.
The audience was filled with spy-show honchos (besides yours truly, of course), which really came out in the Question and Answer section at the end.
Audience Member #1: Can you think of *anyone* worse than Robert Goulet in "Blue Moon Agency?"
Audience Member #2: Um, are you forgetting the "Seventh Level" of 1962 that ran four episodes?
Audience Member #1: Touche, mon frere!
Of course, this is just the general idea since I didn't catch any of the actual names people threw around. I am pretty ignorant of spy shows in general, but what I came out with from this whole session was this:
1.) "The Avengers" (of the 1960s) and "The Prisoner" = Good.
2.) The 1980s as a decade for spy shows = Bad.
3.) The audience will boo you if you besmirch "Hogan's Heroes." (One dude did this, and everyone started protesting. One man behind me was so moved in his anger, he blurted out "IDIOT!!")
I wish that someone had given me the mike, I would have asked if people had been watching UPN's 'America's Next Top Model," season deux. Now that's a show!
Monday, February 02, 2004
Cheers to Charles, who tracked down this erstwhile comic strip for me. I had come across it about a year ago, and liked it a lot, and got a sudden yen to reread it. I googled it, to no avail, but apparently I don't have the magic touch. Enjoy!
I'm going to steal one of your stories for this, just you wait. I stumbled across this fantastic submission that I love beyond articulation.
Fat babies. They finally get the accolades they deserve. The fatter the better, as far as I'm concerned.
Sunday, February 01, 2004
Tonight I went to Des and Bryan's most excellent Super Bowl gathering. I wasn't too interested in the game itself, but I hung in their basement with the other not-as-interested-in-football people where we chatted and kept the game on mute in wait of the much bally-hooed commercials. The commercials themselves weren't so great, save for a couple that included the Simpsons Mastercard commercial. The Simpsons could do no wrong, though, even if they were to shill for something like cigarettes, it's always a little tongue in cheek.
I fell of the wagon a bit on the South Beach thing tonight, as I was surrounded by copious amounts of finger party food. I held myself in check for half of the party, but then slipped and had a couple of cookies, a mini Spanikopita, three bites of this divine cookie/cheesecake sandwich (I know), and a Miller Lite. It was well worth it, but I was full till I hurt afterward. Tomorrow, I get back in the game with renewed vigor.
As an aside, after a couple of weeks I definitely can't hold my alcohol as well. After last night's wine experience, I woke up this morning in the wee hours massively dehydrated and antsy, as if I had drunk a lot more.
I fell of the wagon a bit on the South Beach thing tonight, as I was surrounded by copious amounts of finger party food. I held myself in check for half of the party, but then slipped and had a couple of cookies, a mini Spanikopita, three bites of this divine cookie/cheesecake sandwich (I know), and a Miller Lite. It was well worth it, but I was full till I hurt afterward. Tomorrow, I get back in the game with renewed vigor.
As an aside, after a couple of weeks I definitely can't hold my alcohol as well. After last night's wine experience, I woke up this morning in the wee hours massively dehydrated and antsy, as if I had drunk a lot more.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)