From: The World
To: Paul
You're a colossal fuckup. Not to mention an utter idiot.
From: Paul
To: The World
Thanks for the reminder.
June 2003 Archives
R. Allan has returned from his hiatus, and he's got a couple of bucketfuls of new material for us to wade through.
Go check it out.
One: On my way to meet K-Dog and his sister for some free booze last night (which was, apparently, attended by another blogger whom I presume wasn't the blonde who was involved in one of the more spectacular public displays of affection lust I've ever seen), I wandered past the Tanya Bonakdar Gallery (naturally, their website is not updated, but trust me, it was there), which was opening a new exhibit called "Frankenstein (or it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye)". Of course, I had to stop in and gawk at the not-very-interesting artsy-fartsy stuff before I moved on to the more serious matters at hand (i.e. free scotch).
The free scotch was handed out, interestingly enough, directly across the street from where The Donkey Show plays; however, since no-one thought to bring a camera, the sight of the Ill-Donk standing next to the Donkey Show poster and Frankenzilla standing in front of the "Frankenstein (or it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye)" sign was not preserved for posterity. Except, of course, in this blog. And really, I'm just telling you about this. So I could be making this up, except for the fact that I'm not.
Two: Check out the plates on this Chevy:
Photograph courtesy of Robert Sterling, who was, for some unknown reason, in Virginia when he took the picture.
Three: Check out #9 for the University of Kansas Softball team.
Destiny! Destiny! There's no escaping it for me!
Destiny! Destiny! There's no escaping it for me!
Here are some new photos of the new G5 tower (yes, I want one). What's interesting is that I always assumed that it was about the same size as the current G4 tower -- a form factor that dates back to the legendary "Blue & White G3" -- but it's actually significantly larger.
Unfortunately, all the captions appear to be in Swedish or some other Nordic language.
The Beekeeper of the Opera:
Atop the opera house, Jean Paucton, 69, is busy with bees in a more literal fashion. ... An opera house fireman who had been raising trout in the building's huge cistern suggested he put the hives on the roof where the bees would not bother anyone.
That's one of them only in Paris things.
Well, CafePress has finally come to their collective senses and made substantial revisions to their proposed new user agreement, most notably the elimination of the $25 (or less) monthly fee for low-volume accounts.
So I don't think that I'll be closing the store entirely. It's just too much fun, even if no-one buys a single shirt. I will, however, be taking some of the older items off-line next week to simplify the store, and I will, in the future, be more proactive in terms of rotating stuff on the store.
So, in other words, if there's something that you've been eyeing, buy it now.
I had nothing to do with this, I swear:
Headless Naked Corpse Found by Castle Frankenstein
(via Jahna D'Lish -- who else?)
There's a new piece up on Mimeograph: NeoBohemia on the Number 12 Bus. Check it out.
This would probably explain why I find myself at the Met as regularly as I do.
Gothamist is running a story on guy who wear women's low-cut jeans, for "the look ... [they] let the guys show off a little flash of flesh, just like the girls."
Now this might work if your day job is coverboy for Men's Fitness, but I dare say that the sight of a regular fella (for example, me) sauntering down the street, t-shirt riding up over a walrusesque belly, would not be the most inspiring vision ever.
And a cityful of robust gentlemen sporting low-riding jeans would, I would venture, resemble nothing more than a beach full of elephant seals vying for supremacy.
Stacy Pressman, who's rapidly closing on Gregg Easterbrook (sorry, Rob Neyer) as my favorite ESPN.com columnist, pens an ode entitled "Lots to love in hunks of chunk," wherein she details 10 cases of not-quite-ready-for-the-cover-of-Men's-Fitness hotness.
Which actually ties in quiet nicely with the next piece on coming up...
R.W. Apple goes to Scotland, writes 2,346 words on the native cuisine, and not once manages to mention Scotland's national dish: haggis.
Update: If you're sick enough to be looking for vegetarian haggis recipies, Google is your friend.
As you may have noticed, I'm mentioned in today's Daily News briefly (scroll down, towards the end) because they picked up this story about the Post and the Hulk (via Gawker, of course).
It is a bit surprising to see my name in the paper and not see the phrases "international fugitive" or "world-wide manhunt" attached.
Some of the entries in the archives will, I'm sure, look a bit off. Mind the dust in the corners. Adjustments to follow over the next few days...
NB: if you're loading this up for the first time today and it looks kinda funky, try hitting the reload button to force the new stylesheet to load.
I was flipping through the Post yesterday when I came across this little gem about The Hulk:
[Eric] Bana plays a scientist whose genetic experiment to create superhuman beings bound for Mars goes wrong, and he gains the ability to mutate into a superstrong being. The same experiment transforms three escaped convicts into supermutants, and only the scientist's alter ego, the Hulk, can stop them.
Gee, that doesn't sound like the movie I've been hearing about. My sister, who's actually seen the film (her review? "It's bad."), says there's certainly nothing about Mars or escaped convicts in the movie that she saw. So I go to the IMDB, pull up the page for The Hulk, and lo and behold, there's this plot summary posted:
A scientist's genetic experiment to create super-human colonialists bound for Mars goes wrong and he gains the ability to mutate into a super-strong being. The same experiment tranforms three escaped convicts into hideous super-mutants and only the scientist's alter ego, the Hulk, can stop them.
Yup. There's nothing that says in-depth research quite like copy-and-pasting material from the internet.
Thanks for all the kind words.
Either I pulled a Tyler Durden in the middle of the night and flew to Lourdes or the massive Advil therapy worked (y'all will visit me after I'm admitted to the hospital with kidney failure, right?), but I can walk again. It's still a little sore, and I'm not going to say that I can walk very far or very fast, but at least I'm ambulatory once more.
Well, it looks like everything's a-okay...
Accidentally nuked the main template for this blog. Now, to see if my repairs worked...
...and some days it just doesn't pay to stay in bed, either.
Like today. When I was rather unpleasantly awoken by a massive charliehorse in my left calf. Which is, naturally, the same leg that's been plagued by a reoccurrence of tendonitis in the ankle (which has gone, thank you very much, from bad to worse to is amputation an option?).
All of this means that I have gone from lumbering to lurching to hobbling to only nominally bipedal. I'd simply hop about on my good leg if I was sure that it wouldn't piss off the neighbors below. That, and the fact that I'm sure that if I did that I'd only horribly injure it, leaving me with two bum legs and absolutely no way to get about.
Really bad tendonitis these past few days in my ankle (interestingly enough, the pain is focused around the front of the ankle, not the Achilles' Tendon), leaving me to lumber about the city like one of my namesake's creations, a pain-induced scowl affixed upon my face.
Last night's minor premise -- sufficient consumption of alcohol would act as an anesthetic -- proved false; either that or I had not consumed a sufficient quantity of alcohol. Massive and possibly (probably) not-recommended quantities of Advil does put enough of a dent in the pain to allow me to walk.
But, in other news, I saw a cop in Grand Central yesterday who looked exactly like Poncho from CHiPs!
This article in the Times discusses various ways that bloggers drive up hits (including those old stand-bys, providing good content and posting every day). However, it seems to have neglected one really easy way to send your hits through the roof: get mentioned in a New York Times article...
Another story is up on Mimeograph, this one by Joshua Fielek about the Battle of Little Bighorn. Check it out.
Canadian Leaders Agree to Propose Gay Marriage Law.
Must... resist... temptation... to... link... to... the Lumberjack Song...
Update: More seriously, Rossi has some thoughts on the subject.
I know that everyone reading this is all wrapped up in vegetarian blowjobs and expert opinions on where to find the best hookers in New York, but you guys do realize that the emporium -- where you can get the very finest in nonsensical gear (now featuring, by special request, Susan Sontag shirts) -- will be closing soon, right? So get on over there and max out those credit cards!
It would stand to reason that the evening that I have dinner with the lovely and articulate L— I have a large red spot on the end of my nose.
Memo to skin: I am 31 years old now. Not 13. Get with the program.
Would someone please explain to me what the fuck was up with the fucking bumper-to-bumper traffic jam on the fucking BQE at fucking 3 fucking o'fuckingclock in the fucking morning?
- 40 mistakes men make while having sex with women. Oddly enough, nothing on this list look even remotely familar.
- Moxie.nu vs. MoxiePop.com. Apparently this one has Jim Treacher screaming "Catfight!" at the top of his lungs.
- IF YOU ARE TO BE HAVING TROULBE GETTING A RESPONSE TO YOUR SCAM SPAM YOU SHOULD BE REQUESTING YOUR ATTENDANCE AT THIS CONFERENCE.
- Girl goes to Fargo, attempts to find a missing treasure from the film Fargo, freezes to death. Or something like that...
Anna Pickard asks the hard-hitting questions of the day:
Can vegans give blowjobs?
Elizabeth Spiers is back from Boston and back at work editing Gawker. Thank goodness, too.
Given that:
- Apple still hasn't upgraded their 15" G4 PowerBook to the upgraded spec of the 12" and 17" PowerBooks (specifically, Airport Extreme, DDR RAM, and integrated Bluetooth), which were introduced all the way back in January.
- Apple recently slashed their prices on the PowerBooks, a common ploy to boost sales in advance of the unveiling of new models.
- The PowerPC 970 chip (aka the G5) is rumored to make its debut in Apple hardware soon (soon, as in two weeks).
- The PowerPC 970/G5 is reputed to have rather low power requirements, making it ideal for use in a laptop.
We can then put the dots together and jump to the entirely improbable conclusion that
- In two weeks, Apple will revamp their entire Pro (PowerMac, PowerBook) line of computers by introducing brand-new desktops and laptops based on the PowerPC 970/G5 chip, and
- subsequently, the iBook will be upgraded to a G4 processor, simplifying Apple's product matrix: G4=consumer (iMac/iBook/eMac); G5=professional (PowerMac/PowerBook).
The logic is impeccable, don'tcha think?
I was thinking about adding a "navel-gazing" category to this site, then I realized that it would be redundant: this is a blog, after all...
OK, let's see if I can remember:
Getting chewed out over the phone for my inability to plan things in advance; going on a long bike ride up to the GWB; seeing a rather cute (and visually stunning) movie with my mother; drinking heavily with him, him, him, him, her, him, her, him, him, and him (and a whole bunch of other people whom either don't have websites or are slipping my mind; as gak says, there are bits that are "black holes of a memory"); standing very still for a couple of hours on his behalf; making dinner for some friends (linguini pesto casalingo con gambero, i funghi ed i peperoni dolci, which translates from the Italian as 'pasta with an entirely improvised and made-up sauce').
So, all in all, I think it was a good time.
As it turns out, the whole $25/month fee is a bit overstated.
If you go and read their "clarification", it seems that the "fee" is is only charged to people with outstanding balances in their account:
Members who have commission in their accounts and do not reach the $25 minimum payment threshold within 6 months will be subject to a $25 per month account maintenance fee until their account balance is $0. Members are not charged beyond the balance in their accounts ... If you have not [sic] commissions in your account, you will never be charged the account maintenance fee.
Of course, that's not what the actual text of the member agreement actually says:
If CafePress.com owes you accrued compensation that is less than the Payment Threshold for at least 180 days, then CafePress.com may charge your account a $25.00 monthly maintenance fee. CafePress.com will continue to charge this monthly fee as long as the total amount of accrued compensation remains less than the Payment Threshold for at least 180 days.
In other words, poorly-written legalese aside, they're sweeping the accounts of low-volume stores in order to line their own pockets.
Given that (and their new 5% overhead charge), I think that I will be closing down the stores before the end of the month anyway.
Have you ever been on the phone with someone and have the language processing center of your brain just shut down entirely?
It's not like you're utterly incapable of actually saying things, it's just that you're utterly incapable of saying anything that makes sense. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a string of entirely incoherent, barely connected phrases that make it sound like you have the verbal acuity of a dyspeptic orangutan hopped up on gasoline fumes?
No?
It's just me then, is it?
I've never been one to have roots. Mostly that's had to do with my family moving around when I was a kid -- three years here, one year here, six years here, five years there.
Anyway, it was seven years ago today that I moved to The Big Bad City. More importantly, seven years is the longest I've ever lived in any one city. So, to celebrate, I think I'm going to wander down to a watering hole to raise a glass or two.
So, if you'd like to join me (UPDATED: 9 p.m., at the Half King in Chelsea) in commemorating this historical event, drop me a line (either in email or in the comments).
Felicity McCarthy kindly lends her gothic mall short story "The Mall Hungers for Fresh Meat" to Mimeograph.
Check it out.
Interestingly enough, I opened the emporium one year ago exactly.
(oh, and if you're wondering what CafePress changed, they're now charging $25/month for low-volume stores. Which pretty much spells the end of my store. Unless, of course, anyone else out there knows of good, cheap vanity T-shirt vendors.)
(pps -- if, during your browsing, you see a logo that you like but not on the item that you like, let me know and I'll add it to the store.)
Due to upcoming changes in the CafePress user agreement, I will be shutting down the emporium at the end of the month.
The Washington Post has discovered that New Witch magazine provides computer trouble-shooting advice, and provides some choice quotes:
TURN THE COMPUTER OFF COMPLETELY WHEN YOU ARE WORKING MAGIC [sic] ... I've had friends who have had their computers completely crash due to simple energy overload when they inadvertently left them on while doing spellwork.
A more cynical soul might suggest that the problem has more to do with running Windows ME than spellwork, but whatever.
You are also enjoined from shouting or cursing at your computer: apparently, nature spirits can inhabit your hard disk and are very upset by the negative energy. To restore the the peace, you can shake a coffee can full of coins around the computer.
I think that mailing the coins to me (sans coffee can) would make more sense. Or, better yet, shake a coffee can full of large-denomination bills around the computer and then mail it to me.
Back in March, the Manhattan User's Guide published a really lousy review of Bobby Flay's Bolo (quote: "coach food, unburdened by such things as discernible flavor").
Today, William Grimes in the Times begs to differ, awarding Bolo three stars.
Hmmm. Who to trust? Well, MUG suggests that "either Bobby Flay has gotten back to work ... or Mr. Grimes is a crackhead. We'll assume the former..."
Bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch I don't believe that it's already June and the weather's like this bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch I'm not entirely sure that summer will show up at all this year bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch if April showers bring May flowers, then what about May showers? or June showers? bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch this reminds me of Hong Kong -- in February bitch bitch bitch bitch this just makes me want to puke bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch well, at least I'm saving a fortune on my air-conditioning bill.
To: The bald guy eating lunch outside on Third Avenue
From: Us
Re: Hairstyles
Just say no to the combover. And really, really, really just say no to hairplugs.
So I'm meeting my friend L— for coffee yesterday afternoon.
And we're talking about varied and sundry (including Jonathan Franzen's hair for some reason) sipping our Bloody Marys (me) and Jack & Coke (her).
Oh, didn't you know? Coffee = Bloody Marys and Jack & Coke now. Hard liquor in the afternoon -- it's the new coffee!
(oh, and as a side note, this is the 666th entry in this blog. Weird, huh?)
Well, I may never get into the New York Times, but my brother is in today's Washington Post...