I am writing my annual Friday night, Katie is forcing me to watch What Not to Wear entry in the bloggedy-bloop. The woman who is on the show tonight looks alot like one of Katie's old roommates, not identical, but similar in a shocking number of ways. Anyway, my mouth hurts much less today than it has for a long time. I don't even think that my mouth actually hurts, rather that my jaw is still just a little sore and the tissue on the left side of my face is a little raw. For the most part however I am back to eating normally and able to concentrate on things again. I sat and read a couple hours worth of the Ethics of Psychoanalysis today and wasn't constantly distracted from Lacan's flagrant use of Greek words which I can't always keep straight by face pain.
My day was actually surprisingly productive. I woke up fairly late and Katie wasn't really feeling well. I made us some small lunch type foods and then Katie ended up taking a nap. I read Lacan, watered my Bonzai tree, and cleaned up the living room. I did a load or so of dishes. I did a load of laundry, since Katie was all but completely out of underwear (I would explain further, because she wasn't technically out of underwear, but I think the fact that I have already discussed Katie's lacy underthings in a semi-public bloggeriffic fashion for this long may result in her smacking me) while I wrote a bunch of emails that needed to be done.
We are getting down to solid brass tacks on the whole wedding situation. Karly (Katie's sister) toured the reception facility for us and the ballroom they want us to use at the Hyatt is fantastic. Its not the ones we use for Edie, so it doesn't feel like an extention of the tournament. At the same time, the decor of the hotel is more or less uniform. I mean, the Nicollet Ballroom (which we will use) has darker wood fixtures and generally just looks classier, more St. Paul. It is also more set out from the hotel and restaurant traffic and while the Hyatt's location at the far end of the Skyway and the Nicollet mall often relieves the foot traffic burden, you can never tell whether or not Manny's and Oceanaire traffic will be heavy, especially on a Saturday night (Saturday night). The woman at the Hyatt told us that the majority of the hotel will be occupied by Nurses, attending the American Nurses Association conference at the Minneapolis Convention Center. I don't know if Nurses will be a rowdy party sort or not, I would imagine that every significant sized group has a younger hard drinking base and probably some older people who want to get trashed as well. Spike's-the sports bar in the Hyatt is open til two, just like all bars in Minnesota apparently are now. Our reception won't run any longer than that, probably a little shorter, so we shouldn't have to worry about post-bar drunken wanderers in our area. That also means that if our reception finishes up before 2 or so we can have any late drinkers stop by for something to tide them over.
That is also the nice thing about having the reception in a hotel, not having to worry about as many people driving. I mean, I know not everyone will stay in the hotel or anything, but a number of people will and Katie and I hope to have at least a couple rooms that our friends can utilize. I think there is little question that the wedding party will have rooms at the Hyatt, though we don't know exactly who they will be yet. Another thing we have to nail down.
We watched the majority of E!'s (on an awkward side note, what do you think is the proper grammatical construction for the possesive form of E! I mean, I know that grammarians probably had not prepared for the application of the rules of possesivity to television networks whose names contained emphatic punctuation as the concluding character, but I would imagine, nonetheless, that Microsoft Word's Spelling and Grammar Check would have a fucking field day with the previous sentence, and, for that matter, this particular run on sentence, which it would actually just call a "Long Sentence-Consider Revising" but you get the picture) countdown of steamy Hollywood hookups. They were not as crazy and steamy as it seems that they should be. I mean, there were a couple, like Antonio Banderas and Mel Griffith repeating sex when dicussing their lives together, but a majority of them were just remarking that certain people had dated. This is what happens when you try to make the list 101 Juicy Hollyood Hookups.
If you hold that list to like 20 Juicy Hookups then you stop just listing people who have dated each other in the past to fill out that shit. I mean, Dennis Rodman and Yasmin Bleeth's 5 day crazy transvestite buttsex romp in Vegas is a fucking hell of a lot more juicy than Gavin and Gwen. I mean, they are a good Hollywood couple, but not really in the true spirit of the countdown. You can do a countdown of the 101 Best Ever Hollywood Couples, but that is a different fucking list. An elephant could tell the difference between those two lists and elephants can't tell the difference between peanuts and Valleyfair commemorative baseball caps. Trust me folks, that makes this shit easy.
I also think it is ridicuolous the people who they hire as commentators to work on these things. I mean, I know that I am not a professional comedian. I don't think that I would be a successful comedian, I don't really have the look or the outrageousness. If I had decided in high school that I really wanted to put my mind to becoming a successful comedian or a comedy writer or whatever, I could probably pull it off. Would I work my way up to Conan or John Stewart or Jack Black status, probably not. Would I ever get beyond writing for a WB comedy, probably not likely either, but who knows. I think I can be a funny dude and when I get rolling with someone else we can just fucking go, I mean go on and on and on. Plus, how fucking sweet of a job is that shit. At least part of the time your job consists of getting intoxicated and talking about shit to generate ideas. I mean, I suppose not all comedians generate their material in that fashion, but I am pretty sure that the ones I really like tend to do so. Anyway, if only I had some credential. I mean, I could be the professor dude who has written some crappy book on pop culture and is always used for stock quotes on VH1 or E! or whatever. Maybe I could get a job consulting for Celebrity Justice or something. Until then I should probably finish the Ethics of Psychoanalysis.
Peace,
MB-K
Friday, October 10, 2003
Thursday, October 09, 2003
Let By Gones Be By-Gone and So On and So On
I got up this morning and my mouth actually felt great. There was, for the most part no pain whatsoever, and not even much soreness. I have been trying to make sure that I was able to get by without serious painkilling, so I did not take either the big ass Ibuprofin or the Vicodin before I went to school. I showed up there about 9 and put all the papers I had graded into the computer. I hadn't said anything, but I hadn't thought of doing so either.
Then of course, I started my class. I had a good deal of talking that I had to do in order to make up for the class that we missed on Tuesday. I was rocking and rollin with so much soul that I could rock till a-hundred-and-one-years-old until about 10 am. Then my mouth began to be sore. After another 5 or so minutes I was in pretty severe pain. I did my best to turn the conversation over to the students, even though it didnt really make any sense in terms of advancing the plan of the class. I mean, I always like the students to have input in the class, but they often don't know in which directions they should be going, so I help steer the conversation. Regardless, I let them talk before I had really indicated what they should be talking about and I let the class discussion continue a while longer than was likely educationally necessary in order to take a rest. I ended up dismissing the class about 10 minutes early because I just couldnt handle it. I mean, come on, no one should be expected to deal with that kind of pain and continue talking. I am a person who is able to handle silence when necessary and certainly when the alternative is pain.
Anyway, I sucked it up and headed to my office for a couple of hours. I watched the rest of the first episode of Angel season 5, which was solid. I went to debate practice with Katie last night, so I am still downloading episode 5-2, but I should have it fairly soon. I realized that I left my book at home, so I graded about half the papers I got that day before coming home. Besides that the day has been a series of nice but brief things.
Katie went out and bought some My Little Ponies. They are going to be a bridesmaid thing, but have not been executed yet, I will let you know more later, when she sends them out or something.
We did some other shopping. Katie bought a pair of jeans which look really really solid and some stationary to use on a couple letters she has to send out (I especially dig the stationary, for that matter).
We made dinner, which was Bruschetta Chicken, a recipe that Katie's mom gave us but we hadn't tried yet. It is really tasty, essentially baked encrusted chicken with some parmesan cheese and an olive oil-tomato-garlic-basil mixture. You know, its essentially bruschetta on top of chicken rather than bread. I really like bruschetta and I really like chicken so I was all like "Fuck ya babe! Bruschetta up that chicken. And while you are at it, chicken up that Bruschetta."
Its like the age old question of whether I got chocolate in your Peanut Butter or if, as Pete Nikolai continues to obstinantly maintain, Claire Daines got hairspray in her own mayonnaise. Seriously, I know that doesn't make sense to alot of you right now. But give it some thought, sit down and imagine: "What if Claire Daines did gett hairspray in her mayonnaise. What would that matter. More importantly, who had the opportunity, and who stood to gain from the situation." We can say for sure that everyone conclusively wins when I get my chocolate in your peanut butter. The worst case situation in that world is that the peanut butter cookies you make have a little chocolate sprinkled throughout. Maybe instead you enjoy a tasty sandwich of peanut butter and butter on warm toast. "Oh NO!!! My delicious sandwich was moderately enhanced by the delectable sweetness of this chocolate bar."
Here is what I don't get about vending machines. There are so many different ways that you can vend things nowawdays, what makes a company choose one over the other. I say this because I had to walk through the Alumni Arena at UB today and there were three seperate drink machines side by side. The first was a classic soda machine. The front had a picture of a coke bottle and you hit a button on the side and then your soda appeared in the slot below. If I said: picture a soda machine, this is what you would picture. Its a classic soda machine. Don't overthink this shit, the first one was a fucking coke machine. Maybe Pepsi. Seriously, you are getting us way the fuck off track, its irrelevant what brand of soda was in the machine. Both Pepsi and Coke have machines like this. I even think RC Cola has machines like this, which is weird because who the fuck buys RC Cola. I mean, I know they are associated with A and W and maybe Tahitian Treat or something else, but its irrelevant. Fuck dude, let it be. Fucking soda machine.
The machine next to that is a Snapple Machine, which you may have also seen, they are around a fair amount. They have a little slogan written on them: "Watch the Bottle Drop!!" I am not entirely sure why this slogan is so interesting, since I would imagine that almost everyone has seen many bottles drop in their career. Even if one is not a professional bottle dropper or anything. I don't know that there are alot of bottles which drop in such a fashion however, so that they don't break because they land on a specially insulated bottle drop robber mat. So that is soda machine type two. I have never seen anything besides Snapple in this type of machine however, so the brand is relevant to this question. Do not get soda machine types one and two confused, there is a significant difference between them.
So, machine number three is new I think, I had never seen it before today. Upon first examination, which was admittedly a very very rough examination, or rather, not an examination at all, since I had no intention of purchasing a drink, it seemed to be machine type two. More specifically, I had no intention of purchasing a bottle of milk, which is what this particular vending machine was selling. I did however, run into another woman from my department on my way out of the building, and hence ended up standing nearby the milk machine for a while. At some point I looked over at it and noticed that it had significant differences from type 2. Both of these machines had glass fronts on them. The drinks behind these glass fronts were organized in rows going back away from the glass. The purchaser can see the front of the bottle while the others of the same variety are behind. When you buy a drink, specifically a Snapple, from machine type two, the bottle will fall down from its row onto the specially insulated bottle-dropping pad and can then be retrieved through a pushable area much like would be found on a candy machine. Its pushable area is essentially a plastic triangle. But anyway, you push that in and get your drink. On type number three there is a little elevator thing which moves to the row and column that you have selected. Then the bottle slides out onto this elevator mechanism. That elevator carries the bottle to a little bottle retieval area, similar to machine number 1.
The point of all this however, is very simple. Why the fuck do we need these three different types of soda machines and maybe more importantly, what is next in the soda machine development of the world. These are the questions I hope to answer over the course of this blog. God speed!
Peace,
MB-K
Then of course, I started my class. I had a good deal of talking that I had to do in order to make up for the class that we missed on Tuesday. I was rocking and rollin with so much soul that I could rock till a-hundred-and-one-years-old until about 10 am. Then my mouth began to be sore. After another 5 or so minutes I was in pretty severe pain. I did my best to turn the conversation over to the students, even though it didnt really make any sense in terms of advancing the plan of the class. I mean, I always like the students to have input in the class, but they often don't know in which directions they should be going, so I help steer the conversation. Regardless, I let them talk before I had really indicated what they should be talking about and I let the class discussion continue a while longer than was likely educationally necessary in order to take a rest. I ended up dismissing the class about 10 minutes early because I just couldnt handle it. I mean, come on, no one should be expected to deal with that kind of pain and continue talking. I am a person who is able to handle silence when necessary and certainly when the alternative is pain.
Anyway, I sucked it up and headed to my office for a couple of hours. I watched the rest of the first episode of Angel season 5, which was solid. I went to debate practice with Katie last night, so I am still downloading episode 5-2, but I should have it fairly soon. I realized that I left my book at home, so I graded about half the papers I got that day before coming home. Besides that the day has been a series of nice but brief things.
Katie went out and bought some My Little Ponies. They are going to be a bridesmaid thing, but have not been executed yet, I will let you know more later, when she sends them out or something.
We did some other shopping. Katie bought a pair of jeans which look really really solid and some stationary to use on a couple letters she has to send out (I especially dig the stationary, for that matter).
We made dinner, which was Bruschetta Chicken, a recipe that Katie's mom gave us but we hadn't tried yet. It is really tasty, essentially baked encrusted chicken with some parmesan cheese and an olive oil-tomato-garlic-basil mixture. You know, its essentially bruschetta on top of chicken rather than bread. I really like bruschetta and I really like chicken so I was all like "Fuck ya babe! Bruschetta up that chicken. And while you are at it, chicken up that Bruschetta."
Its like the age old question of whether I got chocolate in your Peanut Butter or if, as Pete Nikolai continues to obstinantly maintain, Claire Daines got hairspray in her own mayonnaise. Seriously, I know that doesn't make sense to alot of you right now. But give it some thought, sit down and imagine: "What if Claire Daines did gett hairspray in her mayonnaise. What would that matter. More importantly, who had the opportunity, and who stood to gain from the situation." We can say for sure that everyone conclusively wins when I get my chocolate in your peanut butter. The worst case situation in that world is that the peanut butter cookies you make have a little chocolate sprinkled throughout. Maybe instead you enjoy a tasty sandwich of peanut butter and butter on warm toast. "Oh NO!!! My delicious sandwich was moderately enhanced by the delectable sweetness of this chocolate bar."
Here is what I don't get about vending machines. There are so many different ways that you can vend things nowawdays, what makes a company choose one over the other. I say this because I had to walk through the Alumni Arena at UB today and there were three seperate drink machines side by side. The first was a classic soda machine. The front had a picture of a coke bottle and you hit a button on the side and then your soda appeared in the slot below. If I said: picture a soda machine, this is what you would picture. Its a classic soda machine. Don't overthink this shit, the first one was a fucking coke machine. Maybe Pepsi. Seriously, you are getting us way the fuck off track, its irrelevant what brand of soda was in the machine. Both Pepsi and Coke have machines like this. I even think RC Cola has machines like this, which is weird because who the fuck buys RC Cola. I mean, I know they are associated with A and W and maybe Tahitian Treat or something else, but its irrelevant. Fuck dude, let it be. Fucking soda machine.
The machine next to that is a Snapple Machine, which you may have also seen, they are around a fair amount. They have a little slogan written on them: "Watch the Bottle Drop!!" I am not entirely sure why this slogan is so interesting, since I would imagine that almost everyone has seen many bottles drop in their career. Even if one is not a professional bottle dropper or anything. I don't know that there are alot of bottles which drop in such a fashion however, so that they don't break because they land on a specially insulated bottle drop robber mat. So that is soda machine type two. I have never seen anything besides Snapple in this type of machine however, so the brand is relevant to this question. Do not get soda machine types one and two confused, there is a significant difference between them.
So, machine number three is new I think, I had never seen it before today. Upon first examination, which was admittedly a very very rough examination, or rather, not an examination at all, since I had no intention of purchasing a drink, it seemed to be machine type two. More specifically, I had no intention of purchasing a bottle of milk, which is what this particular vending machine was selling. I did however, run into another woman from my department on my way out of the building, and hence ended up standing nearby the milk machine for a while. At some point I looked over at it and noticed that it had significant differences from type 2. Both of these machines had glass fronts on them. The drinks behind these glass fronts were organized in rows going back away from the glass. The purchaser can see the front of the bottle while the others of the same variety are behind. When you buy a drink, specifically a Snapple, from machine type two, the bottle will fall down from its row onto the specially insulated bottle-dropping pad and can then be retrieved through a pushable area much like would be found on a candy machine. Its pushable area is essentially a plastic triangle. But anyway, you push that in and get your drink. On type number three there is a little elevator thing which moves to the row and column that you have selected. Then the bottle slides out onto this elevator mechanism. That elevator carries the bottle to a little bottle retieval area, similar to machine number 1.
The point of all this however, is very simple. Why the fuck do we need these three different types of soda machines and maybe more importantly, what is next in the soda machine development of the world. These are the questions I hope to answer over the course of this blog. God speed!
Peace,
MB-K
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
At the Copa...Copa Cabana...The Hottest Spot North of Havana
So today has been rocking in several respects. I have gotten all of my paper grading done, though I should have done slightly more work. Regardless, today is my last official day of serious post-surgical recovery, so I don't feel too bad about that. I will have to do more tomorrow and Friday to make up for it, but I can handle that shit. Why, you ask. Because I fucking roxors and shit, that is why.
In a second respect, I had some food that was not drinkable for the first time today. I was like, I think I would like pancakes, because I know I an eat them. So Katie was like, cool go make pancakes. I was like, alright, but just so you know, I am going to use Bisquick pancake mix, I am not going to actually make pancakes according to the recipe. I recognize, of course, that Betty Crocker pancakes fundamentally taste better, but they take longer to make and are much more work. I was all about the situation whereby I pour flour shit in a bowl and add appropriate water until the mixture is pancakey. I didnt want to measure and wisk and shit. Anyway, Katie, being the pancake snob that she is, refuses to allow me to make pancakes in this fashion. Alright, says I, I says, I says, you are free to make pancakes in the Betty Crocker fashion.
I think this is a perfectly fair arrangement. I want some food, I am going to make it, if she wants me to have different food instead, she should feel free to make it. I mean, its not like I was saying, "I am going to wash your clothes with ketchup instead of laundry detergent." I was just making myself some breakfast. I even understand that Katie is disgusted by even the thought of certain foods. Take for example the cottage cheese which I enjoyed while my jaw left me undable to eat more solid food. Katie happens to think that cottage cheese is incredibly disgusting, so much so that she was a little pissed off that I even ate it. Regardless, Katie is not disgusted by pancakes that are not up to her standards. I was not gonna force feed her sub-par pancakes or anything. If the smell or something was disgusting, if the cooking of hot sweet buttermilk batter nauseated her or whatever, I would have no problem. But if I am like, "Hey I want to drop this table on my foot." I don't really understand why someone should have veto power.
I don't mean this to say that Katie is being bossy or anything, her incredibly unique combo of food snobbery and eating Beefaroni is one of the reasons I love her. Regardless, because of this combination of factors we decided to go get some brunch, actually just breakfast, but it was like noon. So we rolled to Denny's, since it was on the way to run the rest of our errands anyway. We broke fast in a solid way, but that really isn't too relevant. It took me alot longer to eat my food and it was really difficult with a half shut jaw, but I rocked out. The sweet part was when we were just about to pay and leave when I found a dime in my pocket. They had one of those little water filled jar things by the register where you can drop change in and you get a little prize if you catch it on a platform. So I did it, I fucking nailed the dime style. That meant that Katie and I will receive a free piece of pie on our next trip to Denny's, oh yeah.
Thats why the call me "10 Cent Slice." Its a great fucking deal, even if its a slice that cost the company 3 cents to produce aforementioned slice. Anyway, this is 10 Cent Slice, signing off.
Peace,
MB-K
In a second respect, I had some food that was not drinkable for the first time today. I was like, I think I would like pancakes, because I know I an eat them. So Katie was like, cool go make pancakes. I was like, alright, but just so you know, I am going to use Bisquick pancake mix, I am not going to actually make pancakes according to the recipe. I recognize, of course, that Betty Crocker pancakes fundamentally taste better, but they take longer to make and are much more work. I was all about the situation whereby I pour flour shit in a bowl and add appropriate water until the mixture is pancakey. I didnt want to measure and wisk and shit. Anyway, Katie, being the pancake snob that she is, refuses to allow me to make pancakes in this fashion. Alright, says I, I says, I says, you are free to make pancakes in the Betty Crocker fashion.
I think this is a perfectly fair arrangement. I want some food, I am going to make it, if she wants me to have different food instead, she should feel free to make it. I mean, its not like I was saying, "I am going to wash your clothes with ketchup instead of laundry detergent." I was just making myself some breakfast. I even understand that Katie is disgusted by even the thought of certain foods. Take for example the cottage cheese which I enjoyed while my jaw left me undable to eat more solid food. Katie happens to think that cottage cheese is incredibly disgusting, so much so that she was a little pissed off that I even ate it. Regardless, Katie is not disgusted by pancakes that are not up to her standards. I was not gonna force feed her sub-par pancakes or anything. If the smell or something was disgusting, if the cooking of hot sweet buttermilk batter nauseated her or whatever, I would have no problem. But if I am like, "Hey I want to drop this table on my foot." I don't really understand why someone should have veto power.
I don't mean this to say that Katie is being bossy or anything, her incredibly unique combo of food snobbery and eating Beefaroni is one of the reasons I love her. Regardless, because of this combination of factors we decided to go get some brunch, actually just breakfast, but it was like noon. So we rolled to Denny's, since it was on the way to run the rest of our errands anyway. We broke fast in a solid way, but that really isn't too relevant. It took me alot longer to eat my food and it was really difficult with a half shut jaw, but I rocked out. The sweet part was when we were just about to pay and leave when I found a dime in my pocket. They had one of those little water filled jar things by the register where you can drop change in and you get a little prize if you catch it on a platform. So I did it, I fucking nailed the dime style. That meant that Katie and I will receive a free piece of pie on our next trip to Denny's, oh yeah.
Thats why the call me "10 Cent Slice." Its a great fucking deal, even if its a slice that cost the company 3 cents to produce aforementioned slice. Anyway, this is 10 Cent Slice, signing off.
Peace,
MB-K
Tuesday, October 07, 2003
Getting This Shitty on Track
Hopefully I will be able to get back up to the present day with this brief little entry thing. Finishing off the whole birthday trend, I received a couple other sweet presents. Katie's parents sent me some cookies (with for some reason, when baked by a woman whose last name is Kauf, are infinitely better than any other cookie ever baked) and a sweet ass cookbook. I haven't had the opportunity to cook from it yet, but it includes both the basics of many fancy dishes as well as more complicated variations on those themes. It also has alot of meat recipes, which is what Katie and I are really lacking in based on our large collection of Betty Crocker style books.
My dad and my grandparents both sent me some money, which was phat, it paid for our chwe-at dinner at RedLo and some other random shit. They both were in cards, obviously, but my dad's was actually really nice and sincere. It was surprising in many respects, but a very welcome surprise. My sister even sent me a present which was a Bonzai tree. I don't know how she thought of sending it to me but I really dig it. Its a cute little tree and its sitting on my desk. I water it every day and look at it and adjust it so its in the sunshine. I want to get some fertilizer and a book and some little clipper things so I can figure out how to trim it Miagi style. I guess that they are supposed to be really relaxing and that is very cool with me. Overall it was a really present intensive birthday, something which is not a big deal to me, but admittedly is quite fun.
Anyway, after my birthday we had some non-eventful days for the most part. I mean, we did some stuff, Katie coached a little of the ole de-bate, I hung out and read and stuff, you know just doing my thing. On Saturday we took Katie's UB Debate team of Yassin and Charlene to Rochester for their opening tournament. I was hired to judge and its really only like an hour from our house, so we rolled over pretty early. I was juding novice for prelims, which is sweet with me because they don't always use all their time. Now that I don't smoke and don't really have anyone to coach I am in all my debates before even the teams. I am ready to start whenever they are and I have my ballot in like half an hour or so before most of the others show up. I was never the last ballot in most circumstances, but now its insane.
Anyway, I had round three off so I went to the drug store to get some anesthetic, trying again to deal with the rapidly increasing sever throbbing pain in my mouth. I was able to fix it somewhat and I watched most of Katie's debate with her while I finished up Badiou's Ethics. She got yelled at by some crappy first year from Cornell and I had to laugh at this kid. After spending so much time not dealing with crappy talk-backers it just looked so ridiculous. This kid wasn't trying to learn or discussing things in the spirit of academic inquiry or even healthy competition, but rather simple arrogance. Anyway, we both got round 4 off, so Katie got her team ready and we went home. We were both pretty tired and I was in pain so we ate some leftovers or whatever and went to sleep early.
We got up early again on Sunday and hit the ROC for round 5 at 8. I judged another novice round, enjoyed a free bagel and Krispy Kreme coffee. The UB folks finished 2-3, which is legit I think for their first tournament of the year at a school that has never really had a program. Because of the odd setup of the Rochester tournament they cleared to Varsity octofinals (which would never ever ever happen at a "regular" tournament without a winning record) and Yassin was the 7th JV speaker. As my RHS compadres would say; "yeah-rah!"
Came home on Sunday night and opted for la cuisine de la chinoise. That is, Katie called the Hong Kong restaurant down the street and went out to pick up some sweet and sour chicken and an order of chicken egg foo young. I was feeling a little better by the time she got home and we stayed up longer than I would have imagined. We watched Trading Spaces 100 Grand edition, which was fun, and fell asleep on my way to the bed.
Monday morning was dentistry. The dentist told me to get my wisdom tooth out to solve the pain. I wanted to do it then, they got me an appointment with the oral surgeon later that day. Katie took me out to see him and although she had to sit around for way way way too fucking long, I was very appreciative that she supported me through the whole damn ordeal. I am fucking neurotic about doctors in general, but surgery and mouth surgery even more so. Its like needles plus. Anyway, the surgeon was a sweet dude, he took care of me phat style and to be honest the actual removal of the tooth didn't hurt at all. The tension and fear before hand was much worse than the actual process and the only thing that really hurt was the novacaine shot. After that I was cool until we got some Vicodin, Ibuprofin, and antibiotics at Target. I don't know why ya'll would care about this. The point is fundamentally that I stopped at Target, Katie bought me some stuff at the grocery store so I could eat and we came home.
I am not a big fan, let me say, of not eating solid foods. I mean, it could be worse, I am suriving, but I don't really like it. The first day I wasn't really hungry anyway. I don't know if that was from the pain or the anesthesia or what, but I didnt really eat anything more than a little Campbell's creamed soup cup thing. I guess I had a White Cherry Icee at Target (definitively the world's best frozen slush like beverage, I have often gone to Target just to get their fucking Icees-on a side note to the side note, Katie had never even had a Cherry Icee until like 2 weeks ago, which is fucked up, but churee) but that ain't really food, judge. We have also enjoyed pudding and ice cream and yogurt and cottage cheese, and by we I mean me. Katie has, rightfully so, not backed off her pizza and Eggo waffle diet.
So that is about it. I am feeling somewhat better and my hope is that besides some minor annoyances I will feel on top of my game by Thursday. I mean, who knows, I might even try to eat something which cannot be poured down a drain tomorrow. I really like the idea of carbohydrates, I miss bread.
Peace,
MB-K
My dad and my grandparents both sent me some money, which was phat, it paid for our chwe-at dinner at RedLo and some other random shit. They both were in cards, obviously, but my dad's was actually really nice and sincere. It was surprising in many respects, but a very welcome surprise. My sister even sent me a present which was a Bonzai tree. I don't know how she thought of sending it to me but I really dig it. Its a cute little tree and its sitting on my desk. I water it every day and look at it and adjust it so its in the sunshine. I want to get some fertilizer and a book and some little clipper things so I can figure out how to trim it Miagi style. I guess that they are supposed to be really relaxing and that is very cool with me. Overall it was a really present intensive birthday, something which is not a big deal to me, but admittedly is quite fun.
Anyway, after my birthday we had some non-eventful days for the most part. I mean, we did some stuff, Katie coached a little of the ole de-bate, I hung out and read and stuff, you know just doing my thing. On Saturday we took Katie's UB Debate team of Yassin and Charlene to Rochester for their opening tournament. I was hired to judge and its really only like an hour from our house, so we rolled over pretty early. I was juding novice for prelims, which is sweet with me because they don't always use all their time. Now that I don't smoke and don't really have anyone to coach I am in all my debates before even the teams. I am ready to start whenever they are and I have my ballot in like half an hour or so before most of the others show up. I was never the last ballot in most circumstances, but now its insane.
Anyway, I had round three off so I went to the drug store to get some anesthetic, trying again to deal with the rapidly increasing sever throbbing pain in my mouth. I was able to fix it somewhat and I watched most of Katie's debate with her while I finished up Badiou's Ethics. She got yelled at by some crappy first year from Cornell and I had to laugh at this kid. After spending so much time not dealing with crappy talk-backers it just looked so ridiculous. This kid wasn't trying to learn or discussing things in the spirit of academic inquiry or even healthy competition, but rather simple arrogance. Anyway, we both got round 4 off, so Katie got her team ready and we went home. We were both pretty tired and I was in pain so we ate some leftovers or whatever and went to sleep early.
We got up early again on Sunday and hit the ROC for round 5 at 8. I judged another novice round, enjoyed a free bagel and Krispy Kreme coffee. The UB folks finished 2-3, which is legit I think for their first tournament of the year at a school that has never really had a program. Because of the odd setup of the Rochester tournament they cleared to Varsity octofinals (which would never ever ever happen at a "regular" tournament without a winning record) and Yassin was the 7th JV speaker. As my RHS compadres would say; "yeah-rah!"
Came home on Sunday night and opted for la cuisine de la chinoise. That is, Katie called the Hong Kong restaurant down the street and went out to pick up some sweet and sour chicken and an order of chicken egg foo young. I was feeling a little better by the time she got home and we stayed up longer than I would have imagined. We watched Trading Spaces 100 Grand edition, which was fun, and fell asleep on my way to the bed.
Monday morning was dentistry. The dentist told me to get my wisdom tooth out to solve the pain. I wanted to do it then, they got me an appointment with the oral surgeon later that day. Katie took me out to see him and although she had to sit around for way way way too fucking long, I was very appreciative that she supported me through the whole damn ordeal. I am fucking neurotic about doctors in general, but surgery and mouth surgery even more so. Its like needles plus. Anyway, the surgeon was a sweet dude, he took care of me phat style and to be honest the actual removal of the tooth didn't hurt at all. The tension and fear before hand was much worse than the actual process and the only thing that really hurt was the novacaine shot. After that I was cool until we got some Vicodin, Ibuprofin, and antibiotics at Target. I don't know why ya'll would care about this. The point is fundamentally that I stopped at Target, Katie bought me some stuff at the grocery store so I could eat and we came home.
I am not a big fan, let me say, of not eating solid foods. I mean, it could be worse, I am suriving, but I don't really like it. The first day I wasn't really hungry anyway. I don't know if that was from the pain or the anesthesia or what, but I didnt really eat anything more than a little Campbell's creamed soup cup thing. I guess I had a White Cherry Icee at Target (definitively the world's best frozen slush like beverage, I have often gone to Target just to get their fucking Icees-on a side note to the side note, Katie had never even had a Cherry Icee until like 2 weeks ago, which is fucked up, but churee) but that ain't really food, judge. We have also enjoyed pudding and ice cream and yogurt and cottage cheese, and by we I mean me. Katie has, rightfully so, not backed off her pizza and Eggo waffle diet.
So that is about it. I am feeling somewhat better and my hope is that besides some minor annoyances I will feel on top of my game by Thursday. I mean, who knows, I might even try to eat something which cannot be poured down a drain tomorrow. I really like the idea of carbohydrates, I miss bread.
Peace,
MB-K
Elevator Logic
Surprisingly, Mr. Soucheray is in no way the inspiration for this phrase, but rather some random structuralist philosopher of the early 90s. I suppose that this person could have stolen "elevator logic" from "Garage Logic" but I don't even know when that title began, nor do I imagine that this random dude happened to listen to Twin Cities talk radio. Regardless, lets just assume that its not related to Joe-Joe. The phrase is related to structuralist philosophy as an alternate illustration of the "chess game" example.
(I don't mean to patronize anyone here, but here is the very rough form of the argument: structuralist philosophy says there are underlying structures, or rules, that govern human behavior, language, traditions, etc. The philosophy that results from this assumption tends to take the form of descriptions of what these rules are. Of course, in classic Platonic style, the limititations of temporal humanity mean that we have no direct access to these rules, but can intuit them only through observing societal formations and the like. A great example, if you are interested, is Levi-Strauss's classic Structuralist Anthropology, a really good book in general. Check out his discussion of the incest taboo for a pretty clear argument. The chess analogy is a way to understand how this could work: imagine that you know nothing about a chess game, you have never seen a board, or the pieces, but then you sit down and watch two grandmasters play a couple games. Pretty soon you will be able to figure out the basic rules, which pieces move in which ways, when they can move, etc. After a little while you will start to understand some strategy and you will elarn the game your damn self.)
The elevator logic example argues that if you watch people get in an elevator together they will, for the most part, behave in certain ways. They will divide up the space in very specific fashions depending on where the other people are standing. When more people get on or off most often there will be adjustments in the way people are standing even if there is no obvious reason for them, like no one is touching, but they still will. Anyway, the clearest way to understand that this is really the case is to go into an elevator and do something that fragrantly violates these rules, or wait until someone does it in your elevator. There will be a palpable sense of discomfort amongst almost everyone. Some people would say that this is because someone is violating their space, but for the most part this is never the case. Even the people whose space is not being violated will feel uncomfortable when elevator organization is off. The same people will feel entirely comfortable when in an elevator with 10 people when they are "correctly" organized.
I bring this up only because this motherfucker got into an elevator with me and this other dude today and totally fucking broke the rules. There were two of us, we spread into the back corners of the elevator, which means that this dude should be roughly in the front center. Instead he faced my wall (the right) and was right in front of the other dude. It was totally weak and we were both very obviously distrubed by the flagrant violation of elevatorial ettiquette.
Off the tangent and back to some updation. Last Tuesday was my birthday and unfortunately I had to work pretty much all day. I mean, I got up at like 7 and got ready. Katie gave me a ride to school because she had some appointments for work interviews that afternoon. I taught and had class and shit. In between my classes I got to utilize my first birthday present, which Katie insisted on giving me the night before, which was seasons 3-4 of Buffy. That was totally sweet. I had been talking not too long before about how much it sucked that I was so far behind on the best series of all time, and she just smiled shyly, as she so often does when she has already beaten me to the punch. Anyway, I watched a couple episodes and then went to my two classes that afternoon. The classes were actually pretty hella good. I love listening to Ernesto Laclau talk, dude is fucking smart as a fucking motherfucker, just unbelievable. Regardless, I got done with my classes and Katie picked me up at school. We decided to splurge a little and rolled to the RedLob for some dinner. I couldn't decide earlier if I would prefer having steak or lobster, but Katie is more of a seafood girl than an Outback Steakhouse chica so I opted for the Loob-ster.
Katie rolled some pretty sweet salmon stuff, I think it was covered with a Cajun style sauce thing. I only had a couple bites, but it was tasty. I got to enjoy the Red Lobster shrimp special with an Ultimate Seafood Feast, which featured fried shrimp, shrimp scampi, the new barbecued shrimp, and a lobster tail. The barbecued shrimp were really awesome, they are pretty new and all, but very tasty. I think they will keep them around for a long time and I will continue to order them in this exact meal, with the exception of Lobsterfest, where I will go for more Lobster. I also got to enjoy the biscuits, which I need to get the recipe for, because they rock so hard. Regardless, Katie also made an uber-tasty double decker chocolate cake frosted with, what is essentially, melted chocolate. There is still a tiny bit of it left, unfortunately I cannot eat it because of my fucking tooth situacion. Fucking sugery.
Maybe later again tonight, we will speak again. Until then dudes and dudettes...
Peace,
MB-K
(I don't mean to patronize anyone here, but here is the very rough form of the argument: structuralist philosophy says there are underlying structures, or rules, that govern human behavior, language, traditions, etc. The philosophy that results from this assumption tends to take the form of descriptions of what these rules are. Of course, in classic Platonic style, the limititations of temporal humanity mean that we have no direct access to these rules, but can intuit them only through observing societal formations and the like. A great example, if you are interested, is Levi-Strauss's classic Structuralist Anthropology, a really good book in general. Check out his discussion of the incest taboo for a pretty clear argument. The chess analogy is a way to understand how this could work: imagine that you know nothing about a chess game, you have never seen a board, or the pieces, but then you sit down and watch two grandmasters play a couple games. Pretty soon you will be able to figure out the basic rules, which pieces move in which ways, when they can move, etc. After a little while you will start to understand some strategy and you will elarn the game your damn self.)
The elevator logic example argues that if you watch people get in an elevator together they will, for the most part, behave in certain ways. They will divide up the space in very specific fashions depending on where the other people are standing. When more people get on or off most often there will be adjustments in the way people are standing even if there is no obvious reason for them, like no one is touching, but they still will. Anyway, the clearest way to understand that this is really the case is to go into an elevator and do something that fragrantly violates these rules, or wait until someone does it in your elevator. There will be a palpable sense of discomfort amongst almost everyone. Some people would say that this is because someone is violating their space, but for the most part this is never the case. Even the people whose space is not being violated will feel uncomfortable when elevator organization is off. The same people will feel entirely comfortable when in an elevator with 10 people when they are "correctly" organized.
I bring this up only because this motherfucker got into an elevator with me and this other dude today and totally fucking broke the rules. There were two of us, we spread into the back corners of the elevator, which means that this dude should be roughly in the front center. Instead he faced my wall (the right) and was right in front of the other dude. It was totally weak and we were both very obviously distrubed by the flagrant violation of elevatorial ettiquette.
Off the tangent and back to some updation. Last Tuesday was my birthday and unfortunately I had to work pretty much all day. I mean, I got up at like 7 and got ready. Katie gave me a ride to school because she had some appointments for work interviews that afternoon. I taught and had class and shit. In between my classes I got to utilize my first birthday present, which Katie insisted on giving me the night before, which was seasons 3-4 of Buffy. That was totally sweet. I had been talking not too long before about how much it sucked that I was so far behind on the best series of all time, and she just smiled shyly, as she so often does when she has already beaten me to the punch. Anyway, I watched a couple episodes and then went to my two classes that afternoon. The classes were actually pretty hella good. I love listening to Ernesto Laclau talk, dude is fucking smart as a fucking motherfucker, just unbelievable. Regardless, I got done with my classes and Katie picked me up at school. We decided to splurge a little and rolled to the RedLob for some dinner. I couldn't decide earlier if I would prefer having steak or lobster, but Katie is more of a seafood girl than an Outback Steakhouse chica so I opted for the Loob-ster.
Katie rolled some pretty sweet salmon stuff, I think it was covered with a Cajun style sauce thing. I only had a couple bites, but it was tasty. I got to enjoy the Red Lobster shrimp special with an Ultimate Seafood Feast, which featured fried shrimp, shrimp scampi, the new barbecued shrimp, and a lobster tail. The barbecued shrimp were really awesome, they are pretty new and all, but very tasty. I think they will keep them around for a long time and I will continue to order them in this exact meal, with the exception of Lobsterfest, where I will go for more Lobster. I also got to enjoy the biscuits, which I need to get the recipe for, because they rock so hard. Regardless, Katie also made an uber-tasty double decker chocolate cake frosted with, what is essentially, melted chocolate. There is still a tiny bit of it left, unfortunately I cannot eat it because of my fucking tooth situacion. Fucking sugery.
Maybe later again tonight, we will speak again. Until then dudes and dudettes...
Peace,
MB-K
Monday, October 06, 2003
Kings College Rocks
So I will just quickly list the reason that the King's College Debate Tournament was the best ever:
1) I wasn't coaching anyone-I know this isn't unique to this tournament, I have even been at other tournaments where I was not coaching, but it is a crucial element in the best tournament ever. I am not saying that there is anything wrong with coaching or anything, just that it makes tournaments much more enjoyable when you have fewer responsibilities.
2) The Packers didn't play on Sunday-again, I am just trying to get all the random non-unique things out of here first. Obviously there are other weeks that the Pack was not on Sunday, but since the worst thing about debate is missing the Pack and that is followed up only by missing other football games, this is a biggie.
3) College Debate pays SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much better than high school debate. Katie and I were offered 25 bucks a debate to judge in PA, which is a phat deal. We paid for our hotel (2 nights) ate a couple of solid dinners (TGIFriday's tasty new Garlic Chicken (which really is very garlicy) and one night where we ordered like 2 of everything on Wendy's dollar menu, which I always think is fun), had free lunches which were pretty solid (pizza and subs, I mean, it was standard debate tournament food, but it was free, tasty, fairly plentiful, and convenient), used about 1 and a half tanks of gas and stuff and still ended up with a 200 dollar profit or so. I mean, this fucking rocked, it rocked hard.
4) The kids were for the most part, hella cool about everything. You know how high school kids in good debates get at intense tournaments. These kids were the exact opposite the whole fucking time. I had heard that college kids at tournaments like Wake and shit were even more intense, fucking staying up all night to cut cards, being so intense and argumentative and all this shit all the time. The people debating at Kings weren't racing through the buildings, they weren't fighting with each other or yelling or anything. They weren't lazy bastards either mind you, they cared about their debates and they prepped and thought of arguments and everything, but no one freaked out if they couldn't find the newest piece of repetitive evidence. If people said anything about my decision, it was to ask what I thought of this or this. It was always asked in a spirit of genuine inquiry and I never felt that I was being undermined or attacked. Admittedly, I know more about debate and shit in general then most of these kids and there was never a situation under which the decision was in question, but that tends to be true in high school, where I often felt like people were at least attempting to intimidate me. These kids liked to debate, they tried hard, they didn't freak out if they lost, or blow an eight-ball of coke after they won to keep them up for the next round. Most of them were pretty smart and I don' think any of them were thinking of all the horribly stressful shit we read about on edebate (the college debate list-serv) all the time.
5) The coaches were hella cool about everything. Again, I never got shook down and I was never questioned. I mean fuck, these people didn't know me at fucking all. I had never, never, met anyone there before. None of these people had even heard of me (well, maybe a couple of Katie's friends had, but for the most part no one did) and the assumption was not "who the fuck is this moron." How cool is that, it really works out. There was not nearly as much overcoaching as you will find elsewhere which played into the next factor.
6) Shit ran on time. I don't mean the way you say that all tournaments essentially run on time because you assume in advance that they won't run on time. This tournament ran way on fucking time. There were three debates on Friday and Katie and I were at Friday's eating garlic by like 10:30. Considering we also had to check into our hotel and find the place, I think that was pretty good. On Saturday we started at 9, pretty good since many tournaments have the first debate at 8. There were three debates and any necessary double-octas scheduled for that day. Rounds 4-5, the first two on Saturday, were lag powered. If anyone happens to be reading this who is not in debate, lag-powered means a slightly less accurate competition, but saves about 40 minutes per round or so. Hence, we were done with round 5 by around 1 in the afternoon and eating our free lunch. Now, back when I was coaching I would have been pissed about that. I mean, that hurts some people, it technically does decrease the quality of competition, but sitting there, pleased about things in general made me wonder what was really damaged by lag powering one fucking debate. Lots of things weren't hurt, for instance, everyone's ability to have some sort of a Saturday night to themselves and their friends, even if those Saturday nights are spent in Wilkes-Barre. These kids were still debating, they were still learning, the activity was every fucking bit as educational in that round 5 as it would be otherwise. We judged one more round that day, got off doubles since there were only like two debates, and were at the hotel to watch Trading Spaces by like 5 or 5:30. Damn! That is off the fucking hook. We were home on Saturday of a debate tournament that cleared to fucking octos by 5:30 on Saturday! The next morning we judged octos and came home. We could have stayed later, but they said we could go. We took our cash and enjoyed a stunning ride back up and through the river valley.
I will make a couple concessions that probably deserved to be mentioned. I am getting old. By this of course I mean that I am and was myself guilty of a lot of things I just expresssed dislike for. I am willing to admit my mistakes. Ultimately I am quickly realizing that the burnout that I have felt so strongly since Northwestern two years ago was largely based in the way I viewed the activity and the way that those widely held views impacted the running of tournaments. It was way too fucking much, I couldn't handle that and would never go back to it. Tournaments like this however, are totally different.
Finally, I will concede that the quality of competition declines slightly. Maybe its more than slightly, maybe not, I don't know how to judge such a thing. These kids did not know their theory debates as well and there were some people who forgot to put offense on the disad. I never would have expected that I would have to tell varsity debaters some of the things I told them that weekend, but they weren't stupid. Most of those kids were hella smart and it was obvious that they were getting alot out of this activity. The real difference in the "quality" of the debates at Kings and the "quality" of the debates at the Kentucky Round Robin (which, by the way, deserves some shout outs, both to Scotty P, the winner, and my former debater, Ms. Margaret Berthiaume, who is off to a hella good season start) is not the intelligence of the kids or their knowledge of issues, but rather the inbred knowledge of debate and the practice involved in skillful execution. I don't deny the value of those things, but they are pretty small in comparison to what I see the benefits to be.
I may post something about this to the Minnesota Debate Forum at some point, since people there always seem interested in discussing the nature of the activity and its obscure drive to self-destruction. Regardless, I will most likely be back in Wilkes-Barre, mad props to the folks from Kings.
Peace,
MB-K
1) I wasn't coaching anyone-I know this isn't unique to this tournament, I have even been at other tournaments where I was not coaching, but it is a crucial element in the best tournament ever. I am not saying that there is anything wrong with coaching or anything, just that it makes tournaments much more enjoyable when you have fewer responsibilities.
2) The Packers didn't play on Sunday-again, I am just trying to get all the random non-unique things out of here first. Obviously there are other weeks that the Pack was not on Sunday, but since the worst thing about debate is missing the Pack and that is followed up only by missing other football games, this is a biggie.
3) College Debate pays SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much better than high school debate. Katie and I were offered 25 bucks a debate to judge in PA, which is a phat deal. We paid for our hotel (2 nights) ate a couple of solid dinners (TGIFriday's tasty new Garlic Chicken (which really is very garlicy) and one night where we ordered like 2 of everything on Wendy's dollar menu, which I always think is fun), had free lunches which were pretty solid (pizza and subs, I mean, it was standard debate tournament food, but it was free, tasty, fairly plentiful, and convenient), used about 1 and a half tanks of gas and stuff and still ended up with a 200 dollar profit or so. I mean, this fucking rocked, it rocked hard.
4) The kids were for the most part, hella cool about everything. You know how high school kids in good debates get at intense tournaments. These kids were the exact opposite the whole fucking time. I had heard that college kids at tournaments like Wake and shit were even more intense, fucking staying up all night to cut cards, being so intense and argumentative and all this shit all the time. The people debating at Kings weren't racing through the buildings, they weren't fighting with each other or yelling or anything. They weren't lazy bastards either mind you, they cared about their debates and they prepped and thought of arguments and everything, but no one freaked out if they couldn't find the newest piece of repetitive evidence. If people said anything about my decision, it was to ask what I thought of this or this. It was always asked in a spirit of genuine inquiry and I never felt that I was being undermined or attacked. Admittedly, I know more about debate and shit in general then most of these kids and there was never a situation under which the decision was in question, but that tends to be true in high school, where I often felt like people were at least attempting to intimidate me. These kids liked to debate, they tried hard, they didn't freak out if they lost, or blow an eight-ball of coke after they won to keep them up for the next round. Most of them were pretty smart and I don' think any of them were thinking of all the horribly stressful shit we read about on edebate (the college debate list-serv) all the time.
5) The coaches were hella cool about everything. Again, I never got shook down and I was never questioned. I mean fuck, these people didn't know me at fucking all. I had never, never, met anyone there before. None of these people had even heard of me (well, maybe a couple of Katie's friends had, but for the most part no one did) and the assumption was not "who the fuck is this moron." How cool is that, it really works out. There was not nearly as much overcoaching as you will find elsewhere which played into the next factor.
6) Shit ran on time. I don't mean the way you say that all tournaments essentially run on time because you assume in advance that they won't run on time. This tournament ran way on fucking time. There were three debates on Friday and Katie and I were at Friday's eating garlic by like 10:30. Considering we also had to check into our hotel and find the place, I think that was pretty good. On Saturday we started at 9, pretty good since many tournaments have the first debate at 8. There were three debates and any necessary double-octas scheduled for that day. Rounds 4-5, the first two on Saturday, were lag powered. If anyone happens to be reading this who is not in debate, lag-powered means a slightly less accurate competition, but saves about 40 minutes per round or so. Hence, we were done with round 5 by around 1 in the afternoon and eating our free lunch. Now, back when I was coaching I would have been pissed about that. I mean, that hurts some people, it technically does decrease the quality of competition, but sitting there, pleased about things in general made me wonder what was really damaged by lag powering one fucking debate. Lots of things weren't hurt, for instance, everyone's ability to have some sort of a Saturday night to themselves and their friends, even if those Saturday nights are spent in Wilkes-Barre. These kids were still debating, they were still learning, the activity was every fucking bit as educational in that round 5 as it would be otherwise. We judged one more round that day, got off doubles since there were only like two debates, and were at the hotel to watch Trading Spaces by like 5 or 5:30. Damn! That is off the fucking hook. We were home on Saturday of a debate tournament that cleared to fucking octos by 5:30 on Saturday! The next morning we judged octos and came home. We could have stayed later, but they said we could go. We took our cash and enjoyed a stunning ride back up and through the river valley.
I will make a couple concessions that probably deserved to be mentioned. I am getting old. By this of course I mean that I am and was myself guilty of a lot of things I just expresssed dislike for. I am willing to admit my mistakes. Ultimately I am quickly realizing that the burnout that I have felt so strongly since Northwestern two years ago was largely based in the way I viewed the activity and the way that those widely held views impacted the running of tournaments. It was way too fucking much, I couldn't handle that and would never go back to it. Tournaments like this however, are totally different.
Finally, I will concede that the quality of competition declines slightly. Maybe its more than slightly, maybe not, I don't know how to judge such a thing. These kids did not know their theory debates as well and there were some people who forgot to put offense on the disad. I never would have expected that I would have to tell varsity debaters some of the things I told them that weekend, but they weren't stupid. Most of those kids were hella smart and it was obvious that they were getting alot out of this activity. The real difference in the "quality" of the debates at Kings and the "quality" of the debates at the Kentucky Round Robin (which, by the way, deserves some shout outs, both to Scotty P, the winner, and my former debater, Ms. Margaret Berthiaume, who is off to a hella good season start) is not the intelligence of the kids or their knowledge of issues, but rather the inbred knowledge of debate and the practice involved in skillful execution. I don't deny the value of those things, but they are pretty small in comparison to what I see the benefits to be.
I may post something about this to the Minnesota Debate Forum at some point, since people there always seem interested in discussing the nature of the activity and its obscure drive to self-destruction. Regardless, I will most likely be back in Wilkes-Barre, mad props to the folks from Kings.
Peace,
MB-K
Its Been A While
Sorry about that shit, I know all my rapt and attentive readers must be furious that I have been so lax in updating but there have been some conditions, my birthday, illness, out of townness, etc. I will get to them, I promise Let me start from the beginning. It all began last Friday...
Katie and I got up fairly early, like 7 or so, and took off for the King's Debate Tournament in Wilkes-Barre, BA. I had never really understood why people spoke of upstate New York so highly, I mean, I have driven from here to Boston and really nothing gets impressive until Massachusets. Regardless, we drive from Buffalo to Syracuse, stopping briefly at McDonald's to enjoy some McBreakfast. I finally got to really thoroughly chow down on a couple McGriddles, though I could admittedly go for a three bacon-egg-and-cheese-sandwich-wrapped-in-pre-syruped-griddle-cake meal, I probably won't do so for a while. After that we turned South in Syracuse onto I-81 and holy shit, it was like an immediate transformation of the place wherein I live. First of all, the city is really quite nice. Its not far from Buffalo, only like 2 hours, but it looks so much more like St. Paul, a prettier Midwestern style city.
Beyond just the buildings and the general tone of Syracuse, New York, it quickly is noticeable that the whole place is set deep within a river valley. This means, of course, that immediately after leaving the downtown areas all the suburbs are set into beautiful hills with a scenic river running through the middle. There are little town churches and houses and shit. This continues non-fucking-stop for the entire 2-3 hour drive to Wilkes-Barre. Katie's dad told us that he thought the drive from Syracuse to Binghampton was the most beautiful he had ever made, and I can't help but agree with him. I have never been to the mountains really and only really to the ocean when I was in the Carribean. I mean, I would still drastically prefer to set on one of Antigua's 300+ white sandy beaches, enjoy a Cuban cigar, a margarita, and the pleasurable company of one Ms. Kauf, but with the exception of the islands, I have never been in a more beautiful place. Green lush hills, little villages. Beautiful old architecture, white wooden churches, barn-style homes, and gigantic tree lined bluffs. There were so many places that a person could find a nice view and just relax. I was stunned.
The town of Wilkes-Barre, tucked in amongst the Scranton area, continues that beauty. In the five or so miles around the area the valley just opens up, instead of just a beautiful but narrow valley, there are rolling hills within a big bowl of an area. As you enter of 81 you can suddenly see mist covered divots of earth extending miles across. Its what I imagine a well devloped suburb in Ireland would be like, the mist, the green and so on. Loved it. I will discuss further, a little later on, the debate tournament which occurred in Wilkes-Barre, but let me say, first of all, that it rocked. The whole weekend was fantastic, but the debate tournament rocked very hard. It may have been the best debate tournament I have ever been to and was certainly the most laid back. I was slightly tired on Saturday morning, but besides that, literally, the whole thing came off without a hitch.
I will hopefully get around to updating again this evening, maybe even doing the whole debate tournament story so that I stay all chronological like. Right now, however, I am going to take some medicine, since I spent this afternoon getting one of my wisdom teeth removed. This was an odd experience, since I hadn't planned on getting this done until this morning, when the checkup to solve the cavity that was hurting me yielded this new discovery. Having this done actually sucks much less than I thought it would. I mean, I didn't enjoy getting the shots of novocaine or whatever, but the removal of the tooth part felt extraordinarily moderate considering it actually involved the fucking removal BY GRIPPING AND WRENCHING of a fucking tooth from my mouth.
Anwyay, I am back motherfuckers. I will be back on the updating trip which the end of September was rolling on. Give me a while to swallow all this Vicodin, but trust me, its on.
Peace,
MB-K
Katie and I got up fairly early, like 7 or so, and took off for the King's Debate Tournament in Wilkes-Barre, BA. I had never really understood why people spoke of upstate New York so highly, I mean, I have driven from here to Boston and really nothing gets impressive until Massachusets. Regardless, we drive from Buffalo to Syracuse, stopping briefly at McDonald's to enjoy some McBreakfast. I finally got to really thoroughly chow down on a couple McGriddles, though I could admittedly go for a three bacon-egg-and-cheese-sandwich-wrapped-in-pre-syruped-griddle-cake meal, I probably won't do so for a while. After that we turned South in Syracuse onto I-81 and holy shit, it was like an immediate transformation of the place wherein I live. First of all, the city is really quite nice. Its not far from Buffalo, only like 2 hours, but it looks so much more like St. Paul, a prettier Midwestern style city.
Beyond just the buildings and the general tone of Syracuse, New York, it quickly is noticeable that the whole place is set deep within a river valley. This means, of course, that immediately after leaving the downtown areas all the suburbs are set into beautiful hills with a scenic river running through the middle. There are little town churches and houses and shit. This continues non-fucking-stop for the entire 2-3 hour drive to Wilkes-Barre. Katie's dad told us that he thought the drive from Syracuse to Binghampton was the most beautiful he had ever made, and I can't help but agree with him. I have never been to the mountains really and only really to the ocean when I was in the Carribean. I mean, I would still drastically prefer to set on one of Antigua's 300+ white sandy beaches, enjoy a Cuban cigar, a margarita, and the pleasurable company of one Ms. Kauf, but with the exception of the islands, I have never been in a more beautiful place. Green lush hills, little villages. Beautiful old architecture, white wooden churches, barn-style homes, and gigantic tree lined bluffs. There were so many places that a person could find a nice view and just relax. I was stunned.
The town of Wilkes-Barre, tucked in amongst the Scranton area, continues that beauty. In the five or so miles around the area the valley just opens up, instead of just a beautiful but narrow valley, there are rolling hills within a big bowl of an area. As you enter of 81 you can suddenly see mist covered divots of earth extending miles across. Its what I imagine a well devloped suburb in Ireland would be like, the mist, the green and so on. Loved it. I will discuss further, a little later on, the debate tournament which occurred in Wilkes-Barre, but let me say, first of all, that it rocked. The whole weekend was fantastic, but the debate tournament rocked very hard. It may have been the best debate tournament I have ever been to and was certainly the most laid back. I was slightly tired on Saturday morning, but besides that, literally, the whole thing came off without a hitch.
I will hopefully get around to updating again this evening, maybe even doing the whole debate tournament story so that I stay all chronological like. Right now, however, I am going to take some medicine, since I spent this afternoon getting one of my wisdom teeth removed. This was an odd experience, since I hadn't planned on getting this done until this morning, when the checkup to solve the cavity that was hurting me yielded this new discovery. Having this done actually sucks much less than I thought it would. I mean, I didn't enjoy getting the shots of novocaine or whatever, but the removal of the tooth part felt extraordinarily moderate considering it actually involved the fucking removal BY GRIPPING AND WRENCHING of a fucking tooth from my mouth.
Anwyay, I am back motherfuckers. I will be back on the updating trip which the end of September was rolling on. Give me a while to swallow all this Vicodin, but trust me, its on.
Peace,
MB-K
Thursday, September 25, 2003
Oot
That is what I am of "ch" starting words to do journal entries with. Anyway, Katie and I are going to some college debate tournament to pick up some extra cash for the weekend. Even though it is a long drive and involves me judging like 8 ish rounds of what I am sure will be fucking awful debate, it will give Katie the oppotunity to get out of Buffalo (which she needs much more than me, now that I have someone else to hang out with the lameness isn't quite so overwhelming) and we could make up to a couple hundred bucks in profit (over and above our hotel food and gas). Apparently New York State is lovely this time of year. I will let you know if that is correct.
I realized I don't have anything snappy or witty to say this time around, but pretend I saved something from the last time I was funny. How 'bout this: two people were driving through Western New York, one of them was Claire Daines. So the person who isn't Claire Daines looks over and says "Hey Claire Daines, if I had to beat the fuck out of one person named Claire Daines, I would be put in quite a conundrum." Well, Claire Daines, replies, "Why would you be in a conundrum." "You see," says the other person, "I don't know anyone named Claire Daines." "Um" said Claire Daines, "you know me." "Holy Shit! You are Claire Daines!!" said the other person, and commenced beating the fuck out of Claire Daines.
The point of all this of course is that the worst case scenario for the weekend is that Katie and I beat the fuck out of Claire Daines. And if when you come back from a weekend at a debate tournament you can say "well the worst thing that happened this weekend is that me and my fiance beat the fuck out of Claire Daines" then you have had a pretty good weekend. HOLLA!!
Peace,
MB-K
I realized I don't have anything snappy or witty to say this time around, but pretend I saved something from the last time I was funny. How 'bout this: two people were driving through Western New York, one of them was Claire Daines. So the person who isn't Claire Daines looks over and says "Hey Claire Daines, if I had to beat the fuck out of one person named Claire Daines, I would be put in quite a conundrum." Well, Claire Daines, replies, "Why would you be in a conundrum." "You see," says the other person, "I don't know anyone named Claire Daines." "Um" said Claire Daines, "you know me." "Holy Shit! You are Claire Daines!!" said the other person, and commenced beating the fuck out of Claire Daines.
The point of all this of course is that the worst case scenario for the weekend is that Katie and I beat the fuck out of Claire Daines. And if when you come back from a weekend at a debate tournament you can say "well the worst thing that happened this weekend is that me and my fiance beat the fuck out of Claire Daines" then you have had a pretty good weekend. HOLLA!!
Peace,
MB-K
Tuesday, September 23, 2003
Chicka-Chicka-Slim-Shady!
That was the last one I could come up with. I don't even know that it counts since it seems to me like "chicka-chicka" is really just a badly pronounced version of "check" which, you will note has been previously used. Regardless, I will have to give up on it soon if not immediately. Just so you know, I have no plans to further mention slim shady or eminem or marshall mathers further in this thingy here. Returning to subject matter at hand devoid of first consonant sound.
Good day in at least one front today, Katie and I set a date for the old nuptuals that have been so much on everyone's mind. We nailed down the chapel at Macalester College for a June 26th wedding, so absent some disaster that is the day. We have two (well technically three, but for all practical purposes two) possible reception sites still in play and all of them are available on our date. I think the issue will probably end up being cost but they are all hotels and we are strongly in favor of either one. It is truly a no lose situaiton which kicks ass to an extreme degree. Its pretty sweet to actually move on some of this nonsense, it makes the whole situation seem much more real and shit. I think Katie is already overwhelmed, which in many ways is a very bad sign. I am sure she will catch her breath, but it is quite impressive that we went from nothing to date, to ceremony site, to almost reception site over the course of about 4 days.
I have determined that there are a bunch of jobs that I would really like more than the job I have or, more accurately, will hopefully someday have. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like teaching and I don't think it will ever be that hard and does have the slight potential to pay me enough to at least live off of. Nonetheless, if I could do it I would rather manage a sweet bar or restaurant or own a sweet bar or restaurant. I would rather be in charge of a sweet ass Las Vegas casino. I would rather be a sportscenter anchor or commentator. I would rather write for Sports Illustrated or write a TV column or steal Dara Moskowitz' job. Here is the deal though, I am not confident I could.
I have said some of this before, but think about it. If I am a techer and I fuck up and suck and I end up working at some crappy community college for the rest of my life (not to imply that these people may not be good teachers, its just not really what I am looking to do) at leat I am still just teaching. My job isn't too difficult or stressful and I know I can tolerate showing up at work everyday. Maybe not loving it, but not loathing it either. Lets say I went to UNLV for their Hotel and Restaurant Management program intending to become the head concierge at the Belagio (inspired by tonight's premiere of the new NBC series Las Vegas, which I will get to below). I think I would be one of the more intelligent people in that program, I think I would be capable of anything most people there are. Nonetheless, lets say I fuck up. I end up managing the airport Holiday Inn in Portsmouth, New Hampshire and my life blows a goat cock the size of James Gandolfini's colon for 50 years.
I get up every day and work my balls off in a job which probably requires some actual effort, don't get paid much, and am bored shitless. I don't get the fun and power of comping people and shit that I do in Vegas. I mean, I can let you take an extra USA Today on your way to catch the red-eye to Cleveland or give you a VIP pass to the Rice Krispies dispenser in the Continental Breakfast lounge but that is about it. You can make the same extapolations about the Pierre, North Dakota Sizzler if you wish, but it just gets depressing. Whatever, until future notice its not an issue.
The issue that brought me here was of course, Josh Duhamel's new series Las Vegas. As a sidenote to this sidenote Josh Duhamel's last name makes me think of a British candy bar. Anyway, this show is fucking atrocious, I mean incredibly bad. They have Nikki Cox attempting legitimate performances. Lets recap Ms. Cox's curriculum vitae for a moment. There is only one notable moment and that is of course, Unhappily Ever After. To put this in Jeff Foxworthy terms "If you exchanged witty banter with a rabbit puppet voiced by Bobcat Goldthwait, you might be a bad actress." She is literally playing the hooker with a heart of gold in this show and wow is she awful. Josh "Cadbury" is no Sidney Poirtier either notably. The whole show is set with his Ferris Bueller style voiceover and he sounds like the world's biggest wad. There are only 2 redeeming things about this show at this point
1) the breasts-opening shot of the program has a topless Molly Sims riding Joshie and in the mirrored window in front of her you can see what appears to be a reflection of her, how should I put this, her tya-tyas, her gazoombas-now, this may have been my and katie's eyes playing tricks on us and maybe they edited it out and we were just filling it in ( I mean, how can you miss this) or whatever, but it looked like a straight up upper body nudity shot-it was cool
2) the establishing shots and discussion of Vegas-I fucking love that town. I really would love that dude's job, even though I have no experience in security, and certainly am way too much of a risk in that department. I think I would be hella good hospitality style though, give me authority and a billion dollar resort and I would fucking roll.
Beyond that I have little to say. I made some no bake cookies earlier and I think they are edible now, so I will check you.
Peace,
MB-K
Good day in at least one front today, Katie and I set a date for the old nuptuals that have been so much on everyone's mind. We nailed down the chapel at Macalester College for a June 26th wedding, so absent some disaster that is the day. We have two (well technically three, but for all practical purposes two) possible reception sites still in play and all of them are available on our date. I think the issue will probably end up being cost but they are all hotels and we are strongly in favor of either one. It is truly a no lose situaiton which kicks ass to an extreme degree. Its pretty sweet to actually move on some of this nonsense, it makes the whole situation seem much more real and shit. I think Katie is already overwhelmed, which in many ways is a very bad sign. I am sure she will catch her breath, but it is quite impressive that we went from nothing to date, to ceremony site, to almost reception site over the course of about 4 days.
I have determined that there are a bunch of jobs that I would really like more than the job I have or, more accurately, will hopefully someday have. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like teaching and I don't think it will ever be that hard and does have the slight potential to pay me enough to at least live off of. Nonetheless, if I could do it I would rather manage a sweet bar or restaurant or own a sweet bar or restaurant. I would rather be in charge of a sweet ass Las Vegas casino. I would rather be a sportscenter anchor or commentator. I would rather write for Sports Illustrated or write a TV column or steal Dara Moskowitz' job. Here is the deal though, I am not confident I could.
I have said some of this before, but think about it. If I am a techer and I fuck up and suck and I end up working at some crappy community college for the rest of my life (not to imply that these people may not be good teachers, its just not really what I am looking to do) at leat I am still just teaching. My job isn't too difficult or stressful and I know I can tolerate showing up at work everyday. Maybe not loving it, but not loathing it either. Lets say I went to UNLV for their Hotel and Restaurant Management program intending to become the head concierge at the Belagio (inspired by tonight's premiere of the new NBC series Las Vegas, which I will get to below). I think I would be one of the more intelligent people in that program, I think I would be capable of anything most people there are. Nonetheless, lets say I fuck up. I end up managing the airport Holiday Inn in Portsmouth, New Hampshire and my life blows a goat cock the size of James Gandolfini's colon for 50 years.
I get up every day and work my balls off in a job which probably requires some actual effort, don't get paid much, and am bored shitless. I don't get the fun and power of comping people and shit that I do in Vegas. I mean, I can let you take an extra USA Today on your way to catch the red-eye to Cleveland or give you a VIP pass to the Rice Krispies dispenser in the Continental Breakfast lounge but that is about it. You can make the same extapolations about the Pierre, North Dakota Sizzler if you wish, but it just gets depressing. Whatever, until future notice its not an issue.
The issue that brought me here was of course, Josh Duhamel's new series Las Vegas. As a sidenote to this sidenote Josh Duhamel's last name makes me think of a British candy bar. Anyway, this show is fucking atrocious, I mean incredibly bad. They have Nikki Cox attempting legitimate performances. Lets recap Ms. Cox's curriculum vitae for a moment. There is only one notable moment and that is of course, Unhappily Ever After. To put this in Jeff Foxworthy terms "If you exchanged witty banter with a rabbit puppet voiced by Bobcat Goldthwait, you might be a bad actress." She is literally playing the hooker with a heart of gold in this show and wow is she awful. Josh "Cadbury" is no Sidney Poirtier either notably. The whole show is set with his Ferris Bueller style voiceover and he sounds like the world's biggest wad. There are only 2 redeeming things about this show at this point
1) the breasts-opening shot of the program has a topless Molly Sims riding Joshie and in the mirrored window in front of her you can see what appears to be a reflection of her, how should I put this, her tya-tyas, her gazoombas-now, this may have been my and katie's eyes playing tricks on us and maybe they edited it out and we were just filling it in ( I mean, how can you miss this) or whatever, but it looked like a straight up upper body nudity shot-it was cool
2) the establishing shots and discussion of Vegas-I fucking love that town. I really would love that dude's job, even though I have no experience in security, and certainly am way too much of a risk in that department. I think I would be hella good hospitality style though, give me authority and a billion dollar resort and I would fucking roll.
Beyond that I have little to say. I made some no bake cookies earlier and I think they are edible now, so I will check you.
Peace,
MB-K
Monday, September 22, 2003
Green Bay Weekend
So I flew out to Milwaukeee on Saturday. I actually flew through Cleveland and let me tell you that the Cleveland airport is kinda lame. I got to Milwaukee and read some Heidegger in the airport waiting for mi padre to show up. I got in the car and we drove up to see my Grandmother. We stopped along the way for some solid fucking butterburger action. We added some cheesecurds on top of that, but my dad only had like 2, so I got most of a whole fucking order. It rocked.
We hung out with my Grandmother the rest of Saturday, we took her to mass (which incidentally, was said by the most Irish person I have ever seen, he talked really fast and you could only understand like every third word) and then out to dinner at some decent brew-pub place that happens to be right be her place. My grandmother is doing alright, I think, at least as well as anyone that old who has pretty severe Parkinsons. She is confused about things and can hardly move, but you know. She is still able to read (she was halfway through Hillary's book) and she enjoys reading about the Packers, she is from Green Bay after all.
It is kind of sad, however, that she doesn't know anything about my parents' situation. I agree with my dad's basic reasoning, there is no reason that she needs to know, so why bother telling her. Still, its sad to hear her refer to my Grandmother refer to "Jacquie" as if she were still around and stuff. My dad even referred to having "two closings" (oh yeah, my Grandma is selling her house, or more accurately, my dad is selling my grandma's house) but I don't think she caught it at all.
More importantly, we got up early on Sunday morning, had a small breakfast at Julie's and saw my grandmother for a few more minutes. After that, it was off to Mecca. Let me tell you, though I am sure you heard it many times on the broadcast of the game, New Lambeau is just fucking incredible. Absolutely unbelievable. Blows my fucking mind. You will never believe this place. I mean whoa. The exterior is breathtaking. It preserves the simplicity that characterized Lambeau field, but more importantly, makes it classier, and more useful. We stood outside the gates and waited amongst the tailgaters. We got some programs, which are commemorative and totally sweet. Just before 10 they pulled down the "keep out" tape and let us towards the gates. I moved quickly up the stairs and was the first person through the second to last turnstyle on the right at the Oneida gate. I will always, enter Lambeau Field through that point. I will be able to tell my kids someday, I was the first person ever to enter a Packers game through that point. My dad was right behind me, we were 1 and 2 on the dial there.
Immediately inside the East gate is the entrance to the Atrium. It is wild, I mean, something you would never imagine seeing at Lambeau field. Its huge, like four stories high, with the Packer Hall of Fame, the Packer executive offices, and Curly's Place (a big ass sports bar, which, unfortunately, we didnt have time to get into). They are making it available for like weddings and events and shit, which in Green Bay will be big fucking biznuts I am sure. Who wouldn't want to say they got married at the Frozen Tundra (the answer, in case you are wondering, is Katie).
We walked the whole way around the stadium. It has come a long long way. We had a couple bratwurst at the excessive concession stands which now line the halls. There are probably twice as many as there have ever been before. With the exception of halftime (when you could have a billion stands and still a line at every one) there was never a significant line. At one point I ran up to the stands and got my dad a coke and myself a beer during the Viking's failed challenge and made it back to section 137, row 16, seat 3, before they were done reviewing the play. There are also fuckloads of bathrooms. It still takes a couple minutes but especially for the ladies things are much better.
I already explained that the Pack did not play well. Brett was bad, he didnt hit his spots, he was behind receivers, he was slow in the pocket, overall quite bad. I mean, that happens, but it doesnt happen to Brett Favre very often anymore. The rest of the team was not exactly up to snuff either, the o-line should be solid, having Tauscher and Clifton back, but they weren't run blocking extraordinarily well. For the most part the Viking pass rush was not a factor, only once was there significant pressure. That stupid little Hovan fuck was a non-factor and even though Brett is right that the media has blown that out of proportion. He is a dick though. If I were Mike Tice, I would be all over him. Acting like a gigantic moron in that fashion is distracting to your team and simply disgusting. It doesnt help you win the football game. Shut up and play. You are an average defensive tackle (not the world's sexiest position you Warren Sapp asslicker) on a subpar defense, very subpar. Keep running your mouth and watch the first in-sync offense you face roll up and down the field. Maybe I am wrong and you can have a winning team when Corey Chavous is the second best player on one side of the ball, but I doubt it.
The Packers defense is bad and I knew it was going to be bad, but me and my dad have determined that it may be worse than we thought. The corners are good, legitimately good. The problem, of course, is that the linebackers are awful. I mean, really fucking bad. Darren Sharper has the same skills as always, but we are hurting at strong safety too. In case you were wondering, being in a bad shape at the four positions in your defense that make the most tackles is a huge problem. On paper at least, we have a solid defensive line, or a potentially solid one. Joe Johnson, assuming he stays healthy, should be good, and the Gravedigger still rocks. Unfortunately, however, having the best run stopping noseguard in the world won't help you much if your interior backers can't make a fucking hit. Gilbert's responsibiluty is to occupy a couple blockers and fill the hole, make sure they can't get to Nick Barnett (the kid out of Oregon) and allow him to fill the B gap and stop the run where it starts. KGB is still solid, I would rank him as one of the top 5 pass rushing DEs in the league, but that is still a niche market when you don't have anyone to make regular tackles.
The comeback was nice at the end, even though we weren't really imagining that they would pull it off. At the point they failed to make a significant stand at the end of the 3rd quarter the game was over. It was still fun to watch. I could go into more specifics about the line, but I will save it for later. Suffice to say that it is always fun to have my dad buy me a couple bratwurst and a bunch of beer. I love watching football games there. I get all tingly every time I walk into Lambeau field and I would imagine that all the times I have spent in Lambeau field with my dad are among the best times anyone ever spends with their father.
Overall, it was very solid, I like going to Green Bay. It may be a tough year for Packer fans, but they have a beautiful place to watch a tough year. Oot.
Peace,
MB-K
We hung out with my Grandmother the rest of Saturday, we took her to mass (which incidentally, was said by the most Irish person I have ever seen, he talked really fast and you could only understand like every third word) and then out to dinner at some decent brew-pub place that happens to be right be her place. My grandmother is doing alright, I think, at least as well as anyone that old who has pretty severe Parkinsons. She is confused about things and can hardly move, but you know. She is still able to read (she was halfway through Hillary's book) and she enjoys reading about the Packers, she is from Green Bay after all.
It is kind of sad, however, that she doesn't know anything about my parents' situation. I agree with my dad's basic reasoning, there is no reason that she needs to know, so why bother telling her. Still, its sad to hear her refer to my Grandmother refer to "Jacquie" as if she were still around and stuff. My dad even referred to having "two closings" (oh yeah, my Grandma is selling her house, or more accurately, my dad is selling my grandma's house) but I don't think she caught it at all.
More importantly, we got up early on Sunday morning, had a small breakfast at Julie's and saw my grandmother for a few more minutes. After that, it was off to Mecca. Let me tell you, though I am sure you heard it many times on the broadcast of the game, New Lambeau is just fucking incredible. Absolutely unbelievable. Blows my fucking mind. You will never believe this place. I mean whoa. The exterior is breathtaking. It preserves the simplicity that characterized Lambeau field, but more importantly, makes it classier, and more useful. We stood outside the gates and waited amongst the tailgaters. We got some programs, which are commemorative and totally sweet. Just before 10 they pulled down the "keep out" tape and let us towards the gates. I moved quickly up the stairs and was the first person through the second to last turnstyle on the right at the Oneida gate. I will always, enter Lambeau Field through that point. I will be able to tell my kids someday, I was the first person ever to enter a Packers game through that point. My dad was right behind me, we were 1 and 2 on the dial there.
Immediately inside the East gate is the entrance to the Atrium. It is wild, I mean, something you would never imagine seeing at Lambeau field. Its huge, like four stories high, with the Packer Hall of Fame, the Packer executive offices, and Curly's Place (a big ass sports bar, which, unfortunately, we didnt have time to get into). They are making it available for like weddings and events and shit, which in Green Bay will be big fucking biznuts I am sure. Who wouldn't want to say they got married at the Frozen Tundra (the answer, in case you are wondering, is Katie).
We walked the whole way around the stadium. It has come a long long way. We had a couple bratwurst at the excessive concession stands which now line the halls. There are probably twice as many as there have ever been before. With the exception of halftime (when you could have a billion stands and still a line at every one) there was never a significant line. At one point I ran up to the stands and got my dad a coke and myself a beer during the Viking's failed challenge and made it back to section 137, row 16, seat 3, before they were done reviewing the play. There are also fuckloads of bathrooms. It still takes a couple minutes but especially for the ladies things are much better.
I already explained that the Pack did not play well. Brett was bad, he didnt hit his spots, he was behind receivers, he was slow in the pocket, overall quite bad. I mean, that happens, but it doesnt happen to Brett Favre very often anymore. The rest of the team was not exactly up to snuff either, the o-line should be solid, having Tauscher and Clifton back, but they weren't run blocking extraordinarily well. For the most part the Viking pass rush was not a factor, only once was there significant pressure. That stupid little Hovan fuck was a non-factor and even though Brett is right that the media has blown that out of proportion. He is a dick though. If I were Mike Tice, I would be all over him. Acting like a gigantic moron in that fashion is distracting to your team and simply disgusting. It doesnt help you win the football game. Shut up and play. You are an average defensive tackle (not the world's sexiest position you Warren Sapp asslicker) on a subpar defense, very subpar. Keep running your mouth and watch the first in-sync offense you face roll up and down the field. Maybe I am wrong and you can have a winning team when Corey Chavous is the second best player on one side of the ball, but I doubt it.
The Packers defense is bad and I knew it was going to be bad, but me and my dad have determined that it may be worse than we thought. The corners are good, legitimately good. The problem, of course, is that the linebackers are awful. I mean, really fucking bad. Darren Sharper has the same skills as always, but we are hurting at strong safety too. In case you were wondering, being in a bad shape at the four positions in your defense that make the most tackles is a huge problem. On paper at least, we have a solid defensive line, or a potentially solid one. Joe Johnson, assuming he stays healthy, should be good, and the Gravedigger still rocks. Unfortunately, however, having the best run stopping noseguard in the world won't help you much if your interior backers can't make a fucking hit. Gilbert's responsibiluty is to occupy a couple blockers and fill the hole, make sure they can't get to Nick Barnett (the kid out of Oregon) and allow him to fill the B gap and stop the run where it starts. KGB is still solid, I would rank him as one of the top 5 pass rushing DEs in the league, but that is still a niche market when you don't have anyone to make regular tackles.
The comeback was nice at the end, even though we weren't really imagining that they would pull it off. At the point they failed to make a significant stand at the end of the 3rd quarter the game was over. It was still fun to watch. I could go into more specifics about the line, but I will save it for later. Suffice to say that it is always fun to have my dad buy me a couple bratwurst and a bunch of beer. I love watching football games there. I get all tingly every time I walk into Lambeau field and I would imagine that all the times I have spent in Lambeau field with my dad are among the best times anyone ever spends with their father.
Overall, it was very solid, I like going to Green Bay. It may be a tough year for Packer fans, but they have a beautiful place to watch a tough year. Oot.
Peace,
MB-K
Sunday, September 21, 2003
Chickie-Chickie-Boom-Boom!!
I am running very low on repetitive "ch"s. I will have to give up this whole endeavor in the very near future.
Katie and I just returned from Damon's where we watched the Pack suck a nut this weekend. By all accounts we should have demolished this Arizona team, but we played badly from start to finish today. The primary thing I have learned from this weekend's disaster is that you cannot learn anything about the Packers' opponents from how they play the Packers. When they play well this team has just enough talent so as to be alright. They can never be much beyond alright, but they could have been a 10-6 team or so in a conference which is pretty fucking sub par in the first place. However, when they play badly they just play really fucking badly. It appears from the other two weeks of the season that Arizona is legitimately bad and so is Detroit. Regardless, no one looked their best. After an appalling first quarter Brett came out and looked as if he would actually return to Favre-like form, but then collapsed in the second half. The defense really hurt us as they couldn't get off the field to save their lives. I think we ran like 9 total plays in the third quarter and had the ball for like 3 minutes. Atrocious. I know we aren't that good, but its frustrating when we don't even play up to our potential, however low that is.
The Vikings look like they might be legit, although they haven't played anyone worth writing home about either. They have beaten up on the rest of the conference, less on Detroit than I think they should have, but we will see how it goes next weekend when they play a team which presents a challenge to their defense. I haven't seen the Niners yet this fall but the numbers they have put up make it a game.
Katie and I have been going over some of the creative ways to personalize your wedding ideas that she gets in all these random wedding magazines. Most of them I think are crap. I have no desire to write stupid personalized vows, I am not reciting poetry or singing a song we wrote together. I don't know exactly what we will end up doing in this respect, but the only idea we both agree isn't completely awful is to name the tables things besides the numbers 1-X. We made a couple possible lists: important foods seems in some ways too tacky. We were going to do favorite foods and put recipes for them on the table-cards, which would have been cool, but eventually we ran out of good things to use and it seemed weird to mention alot of foods which weren't being served at the reception.
One of the big suggestions is that you name them after important places in your lives. We went through a number of them but none of them seemed especially interesting. I mean, we had addresses and stuff, probably enough of them in fact. Still, we were just listing our homes and our parents homes and some random hotel rooms from Harvard and Blake and stuff. Katie has some other ideas which we may end up going for, but I will save those until we get closer to the actual situation. We have actually moved nearer to setting some dates and nailing things down. It is possible that tomorrow we will know exactly when and where, but more likely it will be a couple days until that information is publically available. We have several reception places which are all open on the day we want, but I am not sure if we will find a ceremony site that will work then as well.
I like John Ritter, alright, I thought he was funny on Three's Company and the episode of Buffy that he did in season 1 (Ted) is actually kind of a classic epsiode for how formulaic it is. The point is not that it is not sad that John Ritter died or that John Ritter's life was not as important as anyone elses, but rather simply that to assign him these tributes as if he were Tom Hanks might be a little premature. Apparently this 8 Simple Rules show is popular and kind of good, I don't know, I never watched it. So he's got a got 6 year sitcom to start the career and one decent season of a sitcom to finish it off with an episode of Buffy in between. Have we forgotten the Problem Child series folks. When your best jokes are vomit-related and you can't even claim to make the best vomit-related jokes in the biznuts, something is wrong.
Katie is telling me that alot of people are so sad about John Ritter because he was apparently really really nice. I don't know the guy, but I would certainly imagine that he was hella nice. I mean, why wouldn't he be, he pretended to be gay before pretending to be gay was hip. Overall John Ritter is sweet. Don't get me wrong. I don't want people to think that I am an anti-Ritt-ite or whatever. Nonetheless, its a little much isn't it. I guess if you die at the right time before the Emmies, they will hooks you up fat. John Ritter, may he rest in peace.
So on a lighter note, Jon Stewart was funny as hell. He did a little fake awards to news outlets things. I hope he wins the Emmy which is coming up shortly. I am constantly amazed at how well done that show is and also blown away by the fact that major celebrites of some sort, be they political or entertainment based. It may be a sad statement about society that in my world Sportscenter and The Daily Show are the most important news programs. As far as I am concerned nothing important can happen on Saturdays.
Alright, I will sign off after this, here is the award for the best individual performance in a variety show: Jon Stewart did not win. In a completely and totally limp move the Emmy goes to Wayne Brady for Whose Line is it Anyway. Limp, totally fucking limp. You were in like 5th place as far as I was concerned. Without question Robin Williams was ahead of you. This shouldn't have been close. Whatever, Jon Stewart is number one in my book.
Peace,
MB-K
Katie and I just returned from Damon's where we watched the Pack suck a nut this weekend. By all accounts we should have demolished this Arizona team, but we played badly from start to finish today. The primary thing I have learned from this weekend's disaster is that you cannot learn anything about the Packers' opponents from how they play the Packers. When they play well this team has just enough talent so as to be alright. They can never be much beyond alright, but they could have been a 10-6 team or so in a conference which is pretty fucking sub par in the first place. However, when they play badly they just play really fucking badly. It appears from the other two weeks of the season that Arizona is legitimately bad and so is Detroit. Regardless, no one looked their best. After an appalling first quarter Brett came out and looked as if he would actually return to Favre-like form, but then collapsed in the second half. The defense really hurt us as they couldn't get off the field to save their lives. I think we ran like 9 total plays in the third quarter and had the ball for like 3 minutes. Atrocious. I know we aren't that good, but its frustrating when we don't even play up to our potential, however low that is.
The Vikings look like they might be legit, although they haven't played anyone worth writing home about either. They have beaten up on the rest of the conference, less on Detroit than I think they should have, but we will see how it goes next weekend when they play a team which presents a challenge to their defense. I haven't seen the Niners yet this fall but the numbers they have put up make it a game.
Katie and I have been going over some of the creative ways to personalize your wedding ideas that she gets in all these random wedding magazines. Most of them I think are crap. I have no desire to write stupid personalized vows, I am not reciting poetry or singing a song we wrote together. I don't know exactly what we will end up doing in this respect, but the only idea we both agree isn't completely awful is to name the tables things besides the numbers 1-X. We made a couple possible lists: important foods seems in some ways too tacky. We were going to do favorite foods and put recipes for them on the table-cards, which would have been cool, but eventually we ran out of good things to use and it seemed weird to mention alot of foods which weren't being served at the reception.
One of the big suggestions is that you name them after important places in your lives. We went through a number of them but none of them seemed especially interesting. I mean, we had addresses and stuff, probably enough of them in fact. Still, we were just listing our homes and our parents homes and some random hotel rooms from Harvard and Blake and stuff. Katie has some other ideas which we may end up going for, but I will save those until we get closer to the actual situation. We have actually moved nearer to setting some dates and nailing things down. It is possible that tomorrow we will know exactly when and where, but more likely it will be a couple days until that information is publically available. We have several reception places which are all open on the day we want, but I am not sure if we will find a ceremony site that will work then as well.
I like John Ritter, alright, I thought he was funny on Three's Company and the episode of Buffy that he did in season 1 (Ted) is actually kind of a classic epsiode for how formulaic it is. The point is not that it is not sad that John Ritter died or that John Ritter's life was not as important as anyone elses, but rather simply that to assign him these tributes as if he were Tom Hanks might be a little premature. Apparently this 8 Simple Rules show is popular and kind of good, I don't know, I never watched it. So he's got a got 6 year sitcom to start the career and one decent season of a sitcom to finish it off with an episode of Buffy in between. Have we forgotten the Problem Child series folks. When your best jokes are vomit-related and you can't even claim to make the best vomit-related jokes in the biznuts, something is wrong.
Katie is telling me that alot of people are so sad about John Ritter because he was apparently really really nice. I don't know the guy, but I would certainly imagine that he was hella nice. I mean, why wouldn't he be, he pretended to be gay before pretending to be gay was hip. Overall John Ritter is sweet. Don't get me wrong. I don't want people to think that I am an anti-Ritt-ite or whatever. Nonetheless, its a little much isn't it. I guess if you die at the right time before the Emmies, they will hooks you up fat. John Ritter, may he rest in peace.
So on a lighter note, Jon Stewart was funny as hell. He did a little fake awards to news outlets things. I hope he wins the Emmy which is coming up shortly. I am constantly amazed at how well done that show is and also blown away by the fact that major celebrites of some sort, be they political or entertainment based. It may be a sad statement about society that in my world Sportscenter and The Daily Show are the most important news programs. As far as I am concerned nothing important can happen on Saturdays.
Alright, I will sign off after this, here is the award for the best individual performance in a variety show: Jon Stewart did not win. In a completely and totally limp move the Emmy goes to Wayne Brady for Whose Line is it Anyway. Limp, totally fucking limp. You were in like 5th place as far as I was concerned. Without question Robin Williams was ahead of you. This shouldn't have been close. Whatever, Jon Stewart is number one in my book.
Peace,
MB-K
Friday, September 19, 2003
Ch-Chimichanga-Ch-Chimichanga!!!
I can imagine that this title is created only because we made enchiladas the other day. I mean, the "we" is a very royal "we" a Queen Elizabethian "we" if you will. Katie made the enchiladas while I shredded the cheese. Admittedly, we went a little overboard on the amount of cheese with which we topped the enchiladas, but they were hella sweet. While I totally like the enchiladas that we made and will likely enjoy some of the leftovers tomorrow I do have a question as to how they are technically enchiladas. My understanding of enchiladas was that they included enchilada sauce. You know what I am talking bout here right dawg. Its the somewhat spicy gravy like red sauce often flavored with adobo and beans and stuff. Regardless, I like enchiladas. As much as I like enchiladas I may even like saying the word enchiladas more than the actual echiladas themselves. Try saying it but make sure the "i" sounds like the "i"s in "tiki" or the second "i" in "chili". Enchiladas!! It can even just be like an exclamation.
Enchiladas always make me think of chimichangas and I fucking love chimichangas. What a great fucking idea, deep frying either a burrito or an enchilada. Fantasgreat! I haven't had a chimichanga in a long time, especially since I just don't really go to Mexican restaurants much out here. I don't even know where the good ones even are. I mean, there are a couple Don Pablos and they actually have pretty good chimichangas and fucking excellent margaritas, but I don't really feel like heading there often. As good a place as it may be its no La Cucaracha, which I have always felt is simpy good fucking eats.
Speaking of slogans like "good eats" the restaurant up the street, Anderson's Frozen Custard (whose custard is both overpriced and not even the best within a half mile radius, talk about coming motherfucking weak as shit) has entirely ripped off Dairy Queen on their sign, which literally reads "Hot Eats, Cool Treats." I mean, I aint no lawyer judge, but that shit ain't right. I am fairly certain that using someone else's slogan on your sign, especially when the both of you serve frozen dairy products and cheeseburgers, that you have violated at the very least, the letter of the law. More importantly your custard sucks and just because you have a Sponge Bob themed bouncey thing at your restaurant one day a week doesn't mean you can steal the customers of a reputable establishment who fucking came up with the blizzard.
Its weird ain't it, nowadays the idea of swirling your ice cream with oreo cookies in a big ass little blender thingy is just second nature. But when DQ rolled that shit we were all blown the fuck away. Oreos, Nerds, Butterfinger, and Snickers, those were pretty much how it started. I mean, wow, you are a fucking stud if you came up with the Blizzard aren't you. It reminds me of Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion where they claim to have invented Post-Its. How fucking cool would it be if you could say you invented the Blizzard. I mean, I have no need to pick up chicas no mas, but if I wasn't with the lovely Ms. Kauf and had invented the Blizzard I would have a shirt made that said "Whats up Honeys. I invented the Blizzard, take your panties off." How much action could you get if you invented the Blizzard. That is a great fucking story on either side of the equation. "Dude, check this out I slept with the dude-or-dudette who invented the Blizzard" or "Another one for me, that makes 4987 this year as a result of my inventing the Blizzard."
I think at somepoint earlier in this here blog I made some comments about chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and how that now seems normal even though, at some point, the idea of putting raw chocolate chip cookie dough in vanilla ice cream was like fucked up to the MAX!! (as a tangent, I think any time you refer to something as to the MAX!!! you should put MAX!!! in that style so as to indicate that, were you talking, you would be blasting the word MAX!! in a fashion which is itself to the MAX!!!) Refer to that entry if you have more questions about the radicality of the Blizzard flavor treat.
They revealed the concept for the new Joe Millionaire tonight on Fox. The promotions people at the Fox network came very strong and lured me and Katie in by promising to show us the new dude if we watched their Friday lineups. The first show we skipped, I am just not a Wanda Sykes fan and we were watching Reba, a show which shockingly grows on me every week. More on that some other time. We watched Luis, which was alright, and then Boston Public. Midway through the show they were just like, BAM the next Joe Millionaire is a Texas cowboy dude and the women are all foreign!!! Can you believe this! We took a concept which was questionably unethical in the first place and added some xenophobia to it! I love reality TV, this show is gonna fucking rock. If it is possible to beat Joe Millionaire 1 this will do it. Plus what better way to endear us to the world post Iraq then taking women from their countries, tricking them into thinking they are trying to date a rich guy, and then making fun of their ogling a Texas good-ole-boy. Yee-haw!!!
Peace,
MB-K
Enchiladas always make me think of chimichangas and I fucking love chimichangas. What a great fucking idea, deep frying either a burrito or an enchilada. Fantasgreat! I haven't had a chimichanga in a long time, especially since I just don't really go to Mexican restaurants much out here. I don't even know where the good ones even are. I mean, there are a couple Don Pablos and they actually have pretty good chimichangas and fucking excellent margaritas, but I don't really feel like heading there often. As good a place as it may be its no La Cucaracha, which I have always felt is simpy good fucking eats.
Speaking of slogans like "good eats" the restaurant up the street, Anderson's Frozen Custard (whose custard is both overpriced and not even the best within a half mile radius, talk about coming motherfucking weak as shit) has entirely ripped off Dairy Queen on their sign, which literally reads "Hot Eats, Cool Treats." I mean, I aint no lawyer judge, but that shit ain't right. I am fairly certain that using someone else's slogan on your sign, especially when the both of you serve frozen dairy products and cheeseburgers, that you have violated at the very least, the letter of the law. More importantly your custard sucks and just because you have a Sponge Bob themed bouncey thing at your restaurant one day a week doesn't mean you can steal the customers of a reputable establishment who fucking came up with the blizzard.
Its weird ain't it, nowadays the idea of swirling your ice cream with oreo cookies in a big ass little blender thingy is just second nature. But when DQ rolled that shit we were all blown the fuck away. Oreos, Nerds, Butterfinger, and Snickers, those were pretty much how it started. I mean, wow, you are a fucking stud if you came up with the Blizzard aren't you. It reminds me of Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion where they claim to have invented Post-Its. How fucking cool would it be if you could say you invented the Blizzard. I mean, I have no need to pick up chicas no mas, but if I wasn't with the lovely Ms. Kauf and had invented the Blizzard I would have a shirt made that said "Whats up Honeys. I invented the Blizzard, take your panties off." How much action could you get if you invented the Blizzard. That is a great fucking story on either side of the equation. "Dude, check this out I slept with the dude-or-dudette who invented the Blizzard" or "Another one for me, that makes 4987 this year as a result of my inventing the Blizzard."
I think at somepoint earlier in this here blog I made some comments about chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and how that now seems normal even though, at some point, the idea of putting raw chocolate chip cookie dough in vanilla ice cream was like fucked up to the MAX!! (as a tangent, I think any time you refer to something as to the MAX!!! you should put MAX!!! in that style so as to indicate that, were you talking, you would be blasting the word MAX!! in a fashion which is itself to the MAX!!!) Refer to that entry if you have more questions about the radicality of the Blizzard flavor treat.
They revealed the concept for the new Joe Millionaire tonight on Fox. The promotions people at the Fox network came very strong and lured me and Katie in by promising to show us the new dude if we watched their Friday lineups. The first show we skipped, I am just not a Wanda Sykes fan and we were watching Reba, a show which shockingly grows on me every week. More on that some other time. We watched Luis, which was alright, and then Boston Public. Midway through the show they were just like, BAM the next Joe Millionaire is a Texas cowboy dude and the women are all foreign!!! Can you believe this! We took a concept which was questionably unethical in the first place and added some xenophobia to it! I love reality TV, this show is gonna fucking rock. If it is possible to beat Joe Millionaire 1 this will do it. Plus what better way to endear us to the world post Iraq then taking women from their countries, tricking them into thinking they are trying to date a rich guy, and then making fun of their ogling a Texas good-ole-boy. Yee-haw!!!
Peace,
MB-K
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
Ch-Ch-Chilis Babyback Ribs
I don't actually have anything to say about Chili's babyback ribs, or anyone else's babyback ribs for that matter. I am just really searching for repetitive "ch" sounds to keep it going and I remember one Chili's commercial where they stuttered the Chilis. Its not even one of the uber-famous commercials but it still fucking counts. The only other thing I could really think of might not even count and I have no idea how to spell it. We shall just see then, shant we.
I guess if I needed to tie things into babyback ribs I would do so by mentioning that some guy outside of my apartment building was barbe-ma-quing today. It smelled really fucking good. I don't have a grilll primarily because I don't really have any place that I would like to use to barbecue. I mean, there are people who just leave their grills outside, but I am not so comfortable with that. I would totally have one if I had a patio or whatev, but until then I will survive with just my George Foreman model. It is all pretty and blue, even if it can't smoke a rack o' ribs.
Anyway, school has been going full nut for several weeks now. I am reading some Heidegger and some Kant as well as re-reading some Lacan and some Badiou at the moment. Hopefully Heidegger and Kant will be finished soon, enabling me to move on to Joan's new book and then maybe read Zizek's On Belief, which I picked up a while ago and haven't even opened yet.
On Monday we decided to order pizza, which was totally sweet as always, since I really like pizza, and it doesn't require us to cook. We even made the decision to add on the Pizza Hut Cinnamon Sticks, which are shockingly good. It really sucks that the Western New York area, Lockport specifically, is so lacking in national pizza chains and hence makes it very difficult for me to actually perform the experiment I had planned on to determine the world's best cinnamon pizza-dough dessert product. I have not had Papa John's and I haven't tried the newest version from Godfather's. I do love the Cinnamon Streusel dessert pizza and if I decided that it would be included in this category I think it would win by a landslide. Having only really compared the Pizza Hut Cinnamon Sticks and the Dominos Cinna-Stix and Cinna-Dots I vote overwhelmingly for Cinna-Stix style. They are buttery and delicious without lacking cinammon, dripping, or being obviously pizza dough.
Anyway, we ordered our pizza and sat around watching some random shit while we waited for it to show up. It was Monday Night Football time so I wouldnt have been surprised if it were a little late. Nonetheless, our doorbell rings and I bring the dude a check and he hands me the pizza. I say, the rest is for you, and right as I am about to close the door, he is like "Shit, we don't take personal checks."
Katie and I are like, "Um, you used to take personal checks. Like, a week and a half ago when we ordered a pizza from you, you took our personal check. Your website didn't say anything about taking a check, nor did they tell me on the phone." Regardless, he said they didnt take personal checks. I searched my wallet, Katie checked her purse, we looked in the bill area and on the desk and shit, but we both knew we had no cash. I never have cash and Katie wouldn't have written a check if she did. I told the dude, look I can give you a credit card number or call your place and give it to them or whatever, but he wasn't interested. He told me just to keep the za. I tried to talk him out of it but he was insistent. Eventually I gave in. We fished up a couple silver dollars to give the guy as a tip and he gave us our check back. Dude didn't even want to take it back and try. He wanted us to keep the pizza and the sticks, so we did. Overall it rocked. I would like to say that I would order from Pizza Hut all the time now, but I never have cash on me, so the chance is very low that this will be the case. Katie really digs the stuffed crust pizza but I am a big fan of Papa Leo's up the street.
Now that you are aware of my pizza preferences let me tell you a little something about the Zelnorm commercials that are all the rage these days. Okay, so the commercial shows all these women lifting up their shirts and it turns out that they have statsitics about Zelnorm written on their stomachs. It is clear, at the end of the add at least, that all these women are not especially attractive. I mean, some of them are damn hot and shit, but some are like really old. I should also note that Zelnorm has something to do with irregularities in the digestive track, not exactly the world's hottest illness. I am not sure what the world's hottest illness is but I am sure it doesn't involve the butt in any way. I mean, the butt is often very hot, but not when it is working irregularly. The irregular functions of the butt are never good. The regular functions of the butt aren't especially great either. Look, I know this isn't so clear but even if you are an ass-person you must understand what I mean here. Fuck you.
The point is that despite these facts which should make the commercial very unfun, I think its kinda hot. I don't know if it is that the women have something written on their stomachs or what. I mean, I am certainly not alone in the argument that the stomach is a very sexy area of a woman's body, but usually I would say that it is beaten by, I don't know, the legs, ass, breasts, and face. Since there are all sorts of commercials which feature these body parts that aren't as cool as the Zelnorm ad it must be something else. I mean, its not out of control or anything, but when I see it I think "that is pretty cute." Good job Zelnorm, you have successfully reached the exact opposite of your target audience.
Peace,
MB-K
I guess if I needed to tie things into babyback ribs I would do so by mentioning that some guy outside of my apartment building was barbe-ma-quing today. It smelled really fucking good. I don't have a grilll primarily because I don't really have any place that I would like to use to barbecue. I mean, there are people who just leave their grills outside, but I am not so comfortable with that. I would totally have one if I had a patio or whatev, but until then I will survive with just my George Foreman model. It is all pretty and blue, even if it can't smoke a rack o' ribs.
Anyway, school has been going full nut for several weeks now. I am reading some Heidegger and some Kant as well as re-reading some Lacan and some Badiou at the moment. Hopefully Heidegger and Kant will be finished soon, enabling me to move on to Joan's new book and then maybe read Zizek's On Belief, which I picked up a while ago and haven't even opened yet.
On Monday we decided to order pizza, which was totally sweet as always, since I really like pizza, and it doesn't require us to cook. We even made the decision to add on the Pizza Hut Cinnamon Sticks, which are shockingly good. It really sucks that the Western New York area, Lockport specifically, is so lacking in national pizza chains and hence makes it very difficult for me to actually perform the experiment I had planned on to determine the world's best cinnamon pizza-dough dessert product. I have not had Papa John's and I haven't tried the newest version from Godfather's. I do love the Cinnamon Streusel dessert pizza and if I decided that it would be included in this category I think it would win by a landslide. Having only really compared the Pizza Hut Cinnamon Sticks and the Dominos Cinna-Stix and Cinna-Dots I vote overwhelmingly for Cinna-Stix style. They are buttery and delicious without lacking cinammon, dripping, or being obviously pizza dough.
Anyway, we ordered our pizza and sat around watching some random shit while we waited for it to show up. It was Monday Night Football time so I wouldnt have been surprised if it were a little late. Nonetheless, our doorbell rings and I bring the dude a check and he hands me the pizza. I say, the rest is for you, and right as I am about to close the door, he is like "Shit, we don't take personal checks."
Katie and I are like, "Um, you used to take personal checks. Like, a week and a half ago when we ordered a pizza from you, you took our personal check. Your website didn't say anything about taking a check, nor did they tell me on the phone." Regardless, he said they didnt take personal checks. I searched my wallet, Katie checked her purse, we looked in the bill area and on the desk and shit, but we both knew we had no cash. I never have cash and Katie wouldn't have written a check if she did. I told the dude, look I can give you a credit card number or call your place and give it to them or whatever, but he wasn't interested. He told me just to keep the za. I tried to talk him out of it but he was insistent. Eventually I gave in. We fished up a couple silver dollars to give the guy as a tip and he gave us our check back. Dude didn't even want to take it back and try. He wanted us to keep the pizza and the sticks, so we did. Overall it rocked. I would like to say that I would order from Pizza Hut all the time now, but I never have cash on me, so the chance is very low that this will be the case. Katie really digs the stuffed crust pizza but I am a big fan of Papa Leo's up the street.
Now that you are aware of my pizza preferences let me tell you a little something about the Zelnorm commercials that are all the rage these days. Okay, so the commercial shows all these women lifting up their shirts and it turns out that they have statsitics about Zelnorm written on their stomachs. It is clear, at the end of the add at least, that all these women are not especially attractive. I mean, some of them are damn hot and shit, but some are like really old. I should also note that Zelnorm has something to do with irregularities in the digestive track, not exactly the world's hottest illness. I am not sure what the world's hottest illness is but I am sure it doesn't involve the butt in any way. I mean, the butt is often very hot, but not when it is working irregularly. The irregular functions of the butt are never good. The regular functions of the butt aren't especially great either. Look, I know this isn't so clear but even if you are an ass-person you must understand what I mean here. Fuck you.
The point is that despite these facts which should make the commercial very unfun, I think its kinda hot. I don't know if it is that the women have something written on their stomachs or what. I mean, I am certainly not alone in the argument that the stomach is a very sexy area of a woman's body, but usually I would say that it is beaten by, I don't know, the legs, ass, breasts, and face. Since there are all sorts of commercials which feature these body parts that aren't as cool as the Zelnorm ad it must be something else. I mean, its not out of control or anything, but when I see it I think "that is pretty cute." Good job Zelnorm, you have successfully reached the exact opposite of your target audience.
Peace,
MB-K
Sunday, September 14, 2003
Ch-Ch-Ch-Chip and Dale's Rescue Rangers!!!
Hopefully some of you will remember the theme song from one of the pioneering shows on the groundbreaking Disney Afternoon. Chip and Dale's Rescue Rangers featured, beyond the title chipmunks of course, a big mouse like guy whose name I don't remember and a little fly dude named Zipp I believe. I am not certain of it, but I think that the big guy had an Australian accent. Anywho, it was a great show, which I believe followed the even more classic DuckTales. There was also Tailspin and Darkwing Duck and some other various shows at various times, but these were the big two to open up with.
There was one really sweet episode of Chip and Dale's Rescue Rangers where they were fighting a group of rodents known as the Cola Cult. The Cola Cult was a diabolical group who occupied some area where there was a fountain soda machine which they dispensed and drank from thimbles and acorn halves etc. All the regular things that small cute like animals would normally drink out of, you get the point. Anyway, at one point they sing this song which is sort of a cult-like loyalty to their brand of soda, which, for the record is Coo-Coo Cola (pronounced to rhyme with a cow saying "moo") and the song really rocks hard: "Come along, you belong, Feel the Fizz of Coo-Coo Cola!! "
When the Disney Afternoon first came out my grandfather was still working and his firm was in charge of at least some if not all of Disney's finances. Regardless, he got us these really sweet posters that had all the characters from the Disney Afternoon on it, and we knew about it like 6 months before anyone else. I don't know if I still have that stuff or not, I should have kept it, but it was totally sweet. Scrooge McDuck was awesome in my world way before anyone else ever saw his money swimming antics.
Regardless, Katie and I rolled to Damon's this afternoon, and though our seats were a little too close to the television (I have a slight neckache) we were able to watch the game clearly. The Pack played fairly well today, the O line was on fire. They hit hard and really protected Favre. Apparently Marco Rivera was even hurt but you couldn't tell it by the way he pulled around to trap the middle linebacker setting up Ahman Green's breakout 65 yard touchdown run on the second play of the game. Ahman had quite an afternoon, even if it was against a pretty pathetic Lions defense. Brett was better, he only threw one pick and it wasn't nearly as flagrant as he was last week. Still, he didn't look like classic Brett Favre and certainly not the man whom Sporting News should have selected as the best player in the NFL for this year. His TD to interception ratio has improved, from last week's 1-4 to this week's 3-5. Hopefully things will continue to build in this direction.
The truly bright side to this week's win was not the offense though, it was the play of our linebackers. I mean, our secondary played pretty well too, but I expect that out of Al Harris, Mike McKenzie, and Darrin Sharper. But when Nick Barnett, an admittedly good looking rookie, but a rookie nonetheless, makes 12 tackles and a pick in his second home game, that is strong. The D-line played well, Gilbert Brown especially, and the Lions had no rushing game. The pass rush was actually much stronger than the stats would make it out to be, but Joey Harrington decided to react to that by throwing the ball. It wasn't a bad decision, unless of course your receivers suck, as the Lions' do, or the opposing defense is swarming well, as the Packers were.
Good day overall. I am going to watch the Carolina Tampa game. Its a doozy folks.
Peace,
MB-K
There was one really sweet episode of Chip and Dale's Rescue Rangers where they were fighting a group of rodents known as the Cola Cult. The Cola Cult was a diabolical group who occupied some area where there was a fountain soda machine which they dispensed and drank from thimbles and acorn halves etc. All the regular things that small cute like animals would normally drink out of, you get the point. Anyway, at one point they sing this song which is sort of a cult-like loyalty to their brand of soda, which, for the record is Coo-Coo Cola (pronounced to rhyme with a cow saying "moo") and the song really rocks hard: "Come along, you belong, Feel the Fizz of Coo-Coo Cola!! "
When the Disney Afternoon first came out my grandfather was still working and his firm was in charge of at least some if not all of Disney's finances. Regardless, he got us these really sweet posters that had all the characters from the Disney Afternoon on it, and we knew about it like 6 months before anyone else. I don't know if I still have that stuff or not, I should have kept it, but it was totally sweet. Scrooge McDuck was awesome in my world way before anyone else ever saw his money swimming antics.
Regardless, Katie and I rolled to Damon's this afternoon, and though our seats were a little too close to the television (I have a slight neckache) we were able to watch the game clearly. The Pack played fairly well today, the O line was on fire. They hit hard and really protected Favre. Apparently Marco Rivera was even hurt but you couldn't tell it by the way he pulled around to trap the middle linebacker setting up Ahman Green's breakout 65 yard touchdown run on the second play of the game. Ahman had quite an afternoon, even if it was against a pretty pathetic Lions defense. Brett was better, he only threw one pick and it wasn't nearly as flagrant as he was last week. Still, he didn't look like classic Brett Favre and certainly not the man whom Sporting News should have selected as the best player in the NFL for this year. His TD to interception ratio has improved, from last week's 1-4 to this week's 3-5. Hopefully things will continue to build in this direction.
The truly bright side to this week's win was not the offense though, it was the play of our linebackers. I mean, our secondary played pretty well too, but I expect that out of Al Harris, Mike McKenzie, and Darrin Sharper. But when Nick Barnett, an admittedly good looking rookie, but a rookie nonetheless, makes 12 tackles and a pick in his second home game, that is strong. The D-line played well, Gilbert Brown especially, and the Lions had no rushing game. The pass rush was actually much stronger than the stats would make it out to be, but Joey Harrington decided to react to that by throwing the ball. It wasn't a bad decision, unless of course your receivers suck, as the Lions' do, or the opposing defense is swarming well, as the Packers were.
Good day overall. I am going to watch the Carolina Tampa game. Its a doozy folks.
Peace,
MB-K
Saturday, September 13, 2003
Checka-Checka-Check It Out
I wonder how many title things I can actually pull out of repetitive words that begin with a "ch" sound. I mean, I can't even necessarily think of any more at the moment, but they have to be out there, don't they. You would think that they do, but I guess you never know until you try.
I am currently watching Miami take on the Pirates of East Carolina University. The Canes came out and did what they are supposed to do, the quick defense leaving the Pirates with a three and out. The offense ran two plays on the ground, getting about 5 a piece for a first down. Then Brock Berlin just opened it up with what ends up being a 50 yard TD strike. Its the way you like to see Miami play, true Gino Toretta-style. Speaking of football, I have been told by the Triple Siznan-Jizzle-Jay that Madden 2004 with this Playmaker feature (C) is apparently so fucking cool that it cannot be believed. You get to like control your blockers and put your receivers into spontaneous hot routes. I can't wait to see it. Unfortunately, it may be second in line, since I don't even have the Buffy game yet. Maybe at this point I can just wait it out and get one or both of them used. I even got a coupon in the mail the other day for 5 bucks off a used game at the old Hollywood Video, so we shall see.
I am going to try a little excercise which we in the writing business call "freewriting"-the basic concept of freewriting is of course to write freely, without any self censorship. Regardless, here we go:
I was watching this leopard chase a vaginal-beef stew out the terrycloth windowpane when two kangaroos called me a hobo. What, I asked them, why doth thou accuse me of this nonsensical happening. If anyone would know, it would be you, after all, back in our youth we partied together daily.
I remember fondly going up to the park, climbing on the monkey bars, and sitting down to watch the puppet show. Before your aunt could steal a minivan the skunks would climb from the secret compartments which covered the wagon and spray Lysol on the whole crowd. More!! They would scream, MORE!!! The little children delighted in the combination of stinging pain and lemony freshness. Only 15 years later would they truly learn that Orange flavored Pledge delivered all the freshness at half the chloro-flouro-carbons.
Aristophanes!! You have got to be kidding me. No one ever ate a peanut butter cookie under the stormy sky on a thursday morning. If you wanted to, you might as well just ride the Orient Express up to Sumatra before Marky Mark calls you a bunny rabbit.
**End Scene**
I have now adequately determined that freewriting in a blog is not funny. My aplogies to any unfortunate readers. On the bright side, I have learned a little something about me. Those skunks, for instance, aren't just puppets. They are the puppets I remember fondly from my youth, the chick was named Henrietta, I think, but that may just be because my grandparents' pool cleaning-machine was named Henrietta. I have always thought that was weird and it may just be the two people I happen to know who have pools, but there does seem to be a trend in the naming of pool cleaning devices.
I am not talking about the fucking vent things obviously, why would you name one of those, that doesn't make any fucking sense. I am talking about the things that look a little like those moving lawn sprinklers that are attached to a hose and they go around on the bottom of the pool and grab leaves and dirt and whatever and pump it out. The Davis' and my mom's parents were the only people I knew with pools and Henrietta and Dolly were thus my models for pool cleaning name accuracy.
Regardless, I also thought it was weird that the puppets were skunks. I don't believe I had actually encountered a real skunk at the point in my life that I was going up to the puppet shows in the park, but I knew enough about them that I can imagine they would bot be worthy of the hugs of little children were they to simply wonder out of the long grasses behind the playground. Now that I think about it, I don't know that I have ever seen a live skunk outside of a zoo in my life. I am happy to say that I have never encountered one in any threateningly close proximity, but I don't even think I saw one running accross the road or whatever. I think it would be disappointing to see one of them spray though. You would probably imagine that their spray would be green and a cloudy mist, like it is for Peppy Le Peu or any other random cartoon skunk, but if you sit and really think about it, the chances are pretty low that it is green.
On the bright side, I have seen a live fox in person and it exceeded all my expectations. It was way way back in the day, must have been my junior year at RHS. James Hart and I had recently discovered the West St. Paul B-Dubs. At this point, of course, it was not known as B-Dubs, but rather BW3 or Buffalo Wild Wings or whatever. Regardless, we started driving out there on Tuesdays for the 20 cent wing days. The NTN trivia grew on us and pretty soon we were there en masse all the time. Regardless, one night James and I were in his beat up old car and as we turned to park in the B-Dubs lot there appears, much to our surprise, in our headlights, a cute little red fox (I nominate that sentence for best use of a comma splice in a major motion picture, by the way). I am not sure if the fox noticed us, though it did seem to sort of freeze in the headlights. After a couple seconds though, it just went on its way. Thankfully, its way was about a foot to its left, where the bush it was standing near was located. I don't know that there was any food actually in the bush, but the fox determined that the potential for food in the bush warranted a couple solid minutes of exploration. As a result we got to watch it before another car scared it into the woods. The point is that the fox was really really cool. Foxes are hella cute, they are like dog-cats. They have the best combinations of cuteness and studliness of both cats and dogs, plus, the awesome auburn shade. All in all, I am pro-fox.
Peace,
MB-K
I am currently watching Miami take on the Pirates of East Carolina University. The Canes came out and did what they are supposed to do, the quick defense leaving the Pirates with a three and out. The offense ran two plays on the ground, getting about 5 a piece for a first down. Then Brock Berlin just opened it up with what ends up being a 50 yard TD strike. Its the way you like to see Miami play, true Gino Toretta-style. Speaking of football, I have been told by the Triple Siznan-Jizzle-Jay that Madden 2004 with this Playmaker feature (C) is apparently so fucking cool that it cannot be believed. You get to like control your blockers and put your receivers into spontaneous hot routes. I can't wait to see it. Unfortunately, it may be second in line, since I don't even have the Buffy game yet. Maybe at this point I can just wait it out and get one or both of them used. I even got a coupon in the mail the other day for 5 bucks off a used game at the old Hollywood Video, so we shall see.
I am going to try a little excercise which we in the writing business call "freewriting"-the basic concept of freewriting is of course to write freely, without any self censorship. Regardless, here we go:
I was watching this leopard chase a vaginal-beef stew out the terrycloth windowpane when two kangaroos called me a hobo. What, I asked them, why doth thou accuse me of this nonsensical happening. If anyone would know, it would be you, after all, back in our youth we partied together daily.
I remember fondly going up to the park, climbing on the monkey bars, and sitting down to watch the puppet show. Before your aunt could steal a minivan the skunks would climb from the secret compartments which covered the wagon and spray Lysol on the whole crowd. More!! They would scream, MORE!!! The little children delighted in the combination of stinging pain and lemony freshness. Only 15 years later would they truly learn that Orange flavored Pledge delivered all the freshness at half the chloro-flouro-carbons.
Aristophanes!! You have got to be kidding me. No one ever ate a peanut butter cookie under the stormy sky on a thursday morning. If you wanted to, you might as well just ride the Orient Express up to Sumatra before Marky Mark calls you a bunny rabbit.
**End Scene**
I have now adequately determined that freewriting in a blog is not funny. My aplogies to any unfortunate readers. On the bright side, I have learned a little something about me. Those skunks, for instance, aren't just puppets. They are the puppets I remember fondly from my youth, the chick was named Henrietta, I think, but that may just be because my grandparents' pool cleaning-machine was named Henrietta. I have always thought that was weird and it may just be the two people I happen to know who have pools, but there does seem to be a trend in the naming of pool cleaning devices.
I am not talking about the fucking vent things obviously, why would you name one of those, that doesn't make any fucking sense. I am talking about the things that look a little like those moving lawn sprinklers that are attached to a hose and they go around on the bottom of the pool and grab leaves and dirt and whatever and pump it out. The Davis' and my mom's parents were the only people I knew with pools and Henrietta and Dolly were thus my models for pool cleaning name accuracy.
Regardless, I also thought it was weird that the puppets were skunks. I don't believe I had actually encountered a real skunk at the point in my life that I was going up to the puppet shows in the park, but I knew enough about them that I can imagine they would bot be worthy of the hugs of little children were they to simply wonder out of the long grasses behind the playground. Now that I think about it, I don't know that I have ever seen a live skunk outside of a zoo in my life. I am happy to say that I have never encountered one in any threateningly close proximity, but I don't even think I saw one running accross the road or whatever. I think it would be disappointing to see one of them spray though. You would probably imagine that their spray would be green and a cloudy mist, like it is for Peppy Le Peu or any other random cartoon skunk, but if you sit and really think about it, the chances are pretty low that it is green.
On the bright side, I have seen a live fox in person and it exceeded all my expectations. It was way way back in the day, must have been my junior year at RHS. James Hart and I had recently discovered the West St. Paul B-Dubs. At this point, of course, it was not known as B-Dubs, but rather BW3 or Buffalo Wild Wings or whatever. Regardless, we started driving out there on Tuesdays for the 20 cent wing days. The NTN trivia grew on us and pretty soon we were there en masse all the time. Regardless, one night James and I were in his beat up old car and as we turned to park in the B-Dubs lot there appears, much to our surprise, in our headlights, a cute little red fox (I nominate that sentence for best use of a comma splice in a major motion picture, by the way). I am not sure if the fox noticed us, though it did seem to sort of freeze in the headlights. After a couple seconds though, it just went on its way. Thankfully, its way was about a foot to its left, where the bush it was standing near was located. I don't know that there was any food actually in the bush, but the fox determined that the potential for food in the bush warranted a couple solid minutes of exploration. As a result we got to watch it before another car scared it into the woods. The point is that the fox was really really cool. Foxes are hella cute, they are like dog-cats. They have the best combinations of cuteness and studliness of both cats and dogs, plus, the awesome auburn shade. All in all, I am pro-fox.
Peace,
MB-K
Friday, September 12, 2003
Chim-Chiminee-Chim-Chiminee-Chim-Chim-Chimeroo
I know its misspelled, but that is how they say it for fucking ass dick sake. Alright, I admit it, I am slightly intoxicated. I have been drinking for a couple hours and although this gin and tonic is particularly flat, it still feels hella good. Regardless, you can just suck it if necessary, seriously. Put your mouth around it and suck like an anteater on a hot concrete sidewalk. Seriously.
So not much has been happening. I have done some reading and work and shit, finishing Freud's Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego and Kant's Critique of Practical Reason in the last two days. Right now Katie is watching What Not to Wear, which I fucking hate, like hate like a motherfucker, but she watches every week anyway. I guess that is legit, since I will force her to endure like a billion hours of football over the next several months, but nonetheless, I hate this show. Fucking TLC, Life Unscripted my ass. Unscript this you son or daughter of an asslickingasswhore.
It looks as though our wedding planning is actually beginning to come together, though I am not sure of anything more than I previously was. It looks like we will be able to have a sit down dinner at somewhere pretty nice and not absolutely destroy the bank. Many places are hotels, some are restaurants, and some are just neat places, like the zoo or something. I happen to particularly like the zoo, specifically the tropics area, since we could get married near the leopards and the tapir. It would be the Southeast Asian Tropics area, which has uber-cool animals. Fuck the dolphins, they are totally overrated. Plus it would be weird if we had tuna or something, we would have to explain to the dolphins why we were eating animals whose nets killed them all the time. I mean, we could pretend we were eating salmon or something. They may be the world's smartest fish but they are just fucking dolphins, if we tell them its salmon they won't know the difference. By the way, you assdick, I know that dolphins are not fish, but fuck you, they are like fish, they swim underwater and aren't turtles so they are fish. Bite me.
Finally, the other day, I was driving to school the other day and I looked in my rearview mirror to see something I expected I absolutely would not see. Its like that Lewis Black bit about not seeing a Starbucks when walking out of a Starbucks. Anyway, I slowed down and this car pulled up to me and fucking-A, it was a DeLorean. I mean, seriously, a DeLorean. I don't think the flux-capacitor was involved, but it was fucked up. I mean, it wasn't even like pimped out and totally rebuilt or anything. If you are going to have a DeLorean wouldn't you totally get it fixed up and add a leather interior and XM Satellite Radio or something. Those cars are worth something, if you ain't gonna do it to it then sell it and shit.
Peace,
MB-K
So not much has been happening. I have done some reading and work and shit, finishing Freud's Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego and Kant's Critique of Practical Reason in the last two days. Right now Katie is watching What Not to Wear, which I fucking hate, like hate like a motherfucker, but she watches every week anyway. I guess that is legit, since I will force her to endure like a billion hours of football over the next several months, but nonetheless, I hate this show. Fucking TLC, Life Unscripted my ass. Unscript this you son or daughter of an asslickingasswhore.
It looks as though our wedding planning is actually beginning to come together, though I am not sure of anything more than I previously was. It looks like we will be able to have a sit down dinner at somewhere pretty nice and not absolutely destroy the bank. Many places are hotels, some are restaurants, and some are just neat places, like the zoo or something. I happen to particularly like the zoo, specifically the tropics area, since we could get married near the leopards and the tapir. It would be the Southeast Asian Tropics area, which has uber-cool animals. Fuck the dolphins, they are totally overrated. Plus it would be weird if we had tuna or something, we would have to explain to the dolphins why we were eating animals whose nets killed them all the time. I mean, we could pretend we were eating salmon or something. They may be the world's smartest fish but they are just fucking dolphins, if we tell them its salmon they won't know the difference. By the way, you assdick, I know that dolphins are not fish, but fuck you, they are like fish, they swim underwater and aren't turtles so they are fish. Bite me.
Finally, the other day, I was driving to school the other day and I looked in my rearview mirror to see something I expected I absolutely would not see. Its like that Lewis Black bit about not seeing a Starbucks when walking out of a Starbucks. Anyway, I slowed down and this car pulled up to me and fucking-A, it was a DeLorean. I mean, seriously, a DeLorean. I don't think the flux-capacitor was involved, but it was fucked up. I mean, it wasn't even like pimped out and totally rebuilt or anything. If you are going to have a DeLorean wouldn't you totally get it fixed up and add a leather interior and XM Satellite Radio or something. Those cars are worth something, if you ain't gonna do it to it then sell it and shit.
Peace,
MB-K
Sunday, September 07, 2003
Brief Packer Summary
They sucked today. I didn't think they would be especially good in the first place but they, might be worse than I thought. I had said between 8-8 and 9-7, but they might be 7-9. If Brett Favre plays like he did today we won't win a game. Luckily, we know Brett, he has his off days, but he usually bounces back. You can never count yourself out when you have number 4 taking the snaps.
We lost, that sucks. The Pack didnt even play well, that sucked more. New Lambeau is awesome. Me and my dad had fun. Those parts were both cool. Fundamentally, watching the Packers lose at Lambeau field is only really beaten by watching the Packers win at Lambeau field. Either way, you are in the greatest place in the world, drinking beer, eating brats, and cheering for the Green and Gold.
More tomorrow, just wanted to say hey from Milwaukee, the Port Washington Comfort Inn to be more specific.
One last shout out to Katie. She came strong in locating this hotel for us and hooking us phat with a killer internet hot rate! Mad props. The woman has a keen ability to utilize the internet for travel resources. Rock on!!
Keep it real. From America's Dairyland, I am signing out.
Peace,
MB-K
We lost, that sucks. The Pack didnt even play well, that sucked more. New Lambeau is awesome. Me and my dad had fun. Those parts were both cool. Fundamentally, watching the Packers lose at Lambeau field is only really beaten by watching the Packers win at Lambeau field. Either way, you are in the greatest place in the world, drinking beer, eating brats, and cheering for the Green and Gold.
More tomorrow, just wanted to say hey from Milwaukee, the Port Washington Comfort Inn to be more specific.
One last shout out to Katie. She came strong in locating this hotel for us and hooking us phat with a killer internet hot rate! Mad props. The woman has a keen ability to utilize the internet for travel resources. Rock on!!
Keep it real. From America's Dairyland, I am signing out.
Peace,
MB-K
Friday, September 05, 2003
No Esta Mucho
So there is not much going on. I have been reading a bunch of stuff and writing some stuff and teaching some classes and stuff. I will mention the few things I can think to say:
-Katie had her first debate meeting last night, it went really really well. Not only is she just naturally gifted in front of crowds, but all these kids were really hanging off her every word, at least the parts I saw. The fact that she actually has a team, instead of just one dude, seems to be very energizing.
-I really like the trend in "hip hop" culture of saying "love that" so that it sounds exactly like "la-dat" or even "luddat." For example, see Puffy's verse in "Shake Ya Tailfeather"
-We are watching the Lavar Arrington edition of "While You Were Out"-it is pretty funny overall, to watch the relations between the design people and the football player, especially based on their misperceptions that every football player is a quarterback-furthermore, Lavar Arrington's brother has the same pillows that Katie and I do on our couch
-TLC has this new show called Resident Life which looks really lame, but it has this theme song which appears to be by They Might Be Giants, and the only real line you hear in the commercial is "Am I Awake" and it gets really annoying really quick. It is even more annoying because the skull moves back and forth while it sings-watch the commercial, this will make more sense
-I am flying to Milwaukee tomorrow and then my dad is picking me up for the drive up to Green Bay, we are gonna chill with my Grandma on Saturday then go see the Pack-I get to be the first person to sit in our seats in the new Lambeau-I hope we get in early enough so that we can walk around for a while and see all the new shit, plus we can obviously find more brats that way
-I will likely be ooc on the internet trip for the weekend, hope ya'll enjoy yourselves, Katie will be around in the apartment though, so feel free to say hi to her. She always enjoys talking, and stuff. To people, and stuff. You know, and stuff. Yeah, and stuff.
Peace,
MB-K
-Katie had her first debate meeting last night, it went really really well. Not only is she just naturally gifted in front of crowds, but all these kids were really hanging off her every word, at least the parts I saw. The fact that she actually has a team, instead of just one dude, seems to be very energizing.
-I really like the trend in "hip hop" culture of saying "love that" so that it sounds exactly like "la-dat" or even "luddat." For example, see Puffy's verse in "Shake Ya Tailfeather"
-We are watching the Lavar Arrington edition of "While You Were Out"-it is pretty funny overall, to watch the relations between the design people and the football player, especially based on their misperceptions that every football player is a quarterback-furthermore, Lavar Arrington's brother has the same pillows that Katie and I do on our couch
-TLC has this new show called Resident Life which looks really lame, but it has this theme song which appears to be by They Might Be Giants, and the only real line you hear in the commercial is "Am I Awake" and it gets really annoying really quick. It is even more annoying because the skull moves back and forth while it sings-watch the commercial, this will make more sense
-I am flying to Milwaukee tomorrow and then my dad is picking me up for the drive up to Green Bay, we are gonna chill with my Grandma on Saturday then go see the Pack-I get to be the first person to sit in our seats in the new Lambeau-I hope we get in early enough so that we can walk around for a while and see all the new shit, plus we can obviously find more brats that way
-I will likely be ooc on the internet trip for the weekend, hope ya'll enjoy yourselves, Katie will be around in the apartment though, so feel free to say hi to her. She always enjoys talking, and stuff. To people, and stuff. You know, and stuff. Yeah, and stuff.
Peace,
MB-K
Tuesday, September 02, 2003
Mikey Bustos: Bringing Society Down From the Inside or Canadian Bacon Pt 2
I have, in the course of the past two days, witnessed two of the worst examples of the entertainment industry that currently exist.
The first was sandwiched in between two very very good films which Katie and I saw yesterday. We hit up the Transit Drive-In down the street to take in the labor day threeway, the last big weekend of the year. The Disney ads that have been so popular on TV over the past several weeks were showing together, Finding Nemo, Freaky Friday, and Pirates of the Carribean. We hadnt seen any of these films. I have wanted to see Nemo since the days I saw the advertisements in the first place. I really enjoy these Pixar films and cute animals don't hurt. The only good non eating fish is an animated fish, so it was really my cup of tea.
It was really quite funny and I would imagine that I will have it on DVD at some point. If you get the chance to watch Nemo, I recommend it. If you hated Monsters Inc and-or Toy Story, leave it alone, but also, get a fucking heart you soul-less prick. Elen Degeneres as Dori (sic) redeems her entire career in my mind as the ambitious fish who has lost her short term memory and the dude from Everybody Loves Raymond is solid as the aquarium bound puffer fish.
Freaky Friday was among the worst films of all time. Seriously, it was without question the worst film I have ever seen on the big screen. I would imagine that I have, very late on Cinemax or in my renting awful horror films with Matt B. phase, seen worse films, but never have I seen one in the theater. Admittedly, the Drive-In is a special form of the theater, its not like we paid just to see Jamie Lee Curtis (whom I like ever so much when she is acting like a dual-gendered adult) badly impersonate a teenager in the body of an adult. Nonetheless, it wasn't like renting it. It was just fucking bad. My statement last night to Katie was that “Freaky Friday was the worst movie I have ever seen in the theater, and I saw Super Mario Bros. on opening night.”
Pirates of the Caribbean is awesome. I fucking love Johnny Depp, he and Brad Pitt have arguably the sexiest and overall highest quality voices of all time. The special effects are really good and it may simply be that I like the aesthetics of pirate times. The music is good, the whole swashbuckling motif, its all sweet. You should definitely see this movie. Take the example of the people in the car next to us. Get ripped, see Finding Nemo, spend the entirety of Freaky Friday outside your car getting stoned, then rock out with hottie extraordinaire Johnny Depp as he plays Captain John Sparrow.
The second is likely unavailable to most people reading as I found it only due to my proximity to the great state (by which I mean awful country) of Canadia (Katie tribeuce). Actually, I did not even technically find this example, Katie herself did. It is, and I shit you not, I can provide internet based support, Canadian Idol. Canadian Idol, as you might have gathered, is the Canadian version of American Idol. You might think that it would simply be a little more lame than American Idol, especially because it is a rip off. I mean, the judges will be different and it would simply be a copy.
You would be right of course, it is a lame copy. But that is not all. Keep in mind that Canada is a big fucking country. I mean geographically its fucking huge and population wise its not much smaller than the US. Maybe I am wrong about that, but I think it is close to accurate. You would think then, that there would be at least a couple of decently talented people in Canada and maybe they would audition for Canadian Idol. Now, I cannot, of course, categorically reject the position that Canada has talented people. I can however, demonstrate that they did not make it to the final four contestants on Canadian Idol.
Seriously check out this website (www.idol.ctv.ca). Look at some of the contestants, for instance the last three. There are a couple things you should note:
1) They are not attractive-have you seen Billy Klippert, did you even look at him. Fucking look at Billy Clippert. He is fucking bald. He is not even like a cute prematurely balding guy. I am not even saying that bald people can’t be attractive or can’t be the Canadian Idol or that going prematurely bald is bad. Billy Kilppert, however, is not an attractive bald. He is going bald in the same way the guy you knew in high school who started working at the bowling alley his junior year and is still working at the bowling alley today is going bald. The bleached blonde balding look was never really cool. Its like he was a poseur when he took the night off from City Limits to go see Rancid at First Ave and he is still a poseur today, only now he is trying to use that “punk rock” image to make his “I don’t want to miss a thing” cover look cool.Don’t get me wrong, I have some problems with the basic idea of poseur-dom. I don’t think you should have to safety pin an Op-Ivy thing to your jean jacket and tattoo a bar code on your neck to like punk music. I don’t own an outfit which wasn’t purchased at Daytons but I’ve spent many a night in the clown lounge and I don’t think I was too out of place. Nonetheless, I think there is some difference between me and Billy. Maybe I will talk more about it later. Its not like Gary or Ryan (or whatever their fucking names are) are much better. I mean, they aren’t as nasty as Billy, but they suck. They aren’t even really like not great looking people whom fill a niche-you’ve got Ruben, the big teddy bear fat guy-you’ve got Clay as the dorky guy who is all hot underneath. Ryan isn’t the hot dork, he is just a fucking dork. A big fucking stupid dork with bad glasses. They are not attractive, not really at all.
2) They cannot fucking sing-listen to them. You can get steaming video clips about everyone. Make sure you check out Billy Klippert, dude is bad. After that head to Jenny Gear. She was eliminated before Billy, and rightfully so, but oh my god she is so fucking bad. There is no way someone like that wouldn’t even make the first cut on American Idol. I don’t know that any of these people would make the trip to LA, Katie thinks a couple might. There is no question that none of them would make the top 10. DO NOT LEAVE THIS SITE WITHOUT CHECKING OUT MIKEY BUSTOS!!! He is the inspiration for this post obviously, and he just rocks. He isn’t quite extreme as Billy Klippert but wow, he is weird looking and he fucking blows. Like, he blows hard. And what a great name, Mikey Bustos. Say the last name a couple times. You will love it.
3) The judges are very very cheap ripoffs of American Idols. There names are even rip offs of American Idol judges and they have no edge at all. I mean, Randy’s “yo dawg yo dawg yo yo yo yo dawg” is fucking Cosmo Kramer in relation to this shit. Their Simon is like a really really flaming British hairdresser. Laughable.
Anyway, that is all. Canadian Idol is hilarious. For your reference, the hot chick got kicked off tonight. Billy Klippert was not even in the bottom 2. I am cheering for this tool.
Peace,
MB-K
The first was sandwiched in between two very very good films which Katie and I saw yesterday. We hit up the Transit Drive-In down the street to take in the labor day threeway, the last big weekend of the year. The Disney ads that have been so popular on TV over the past several weeks were showing together, Finding Nemo, Freaky Friday, and Pirates of the Carribean. We hadnt seen any of these films. I have wanted to see Nemo since the days I saw the advertisements in the first place. I really enjoy these Pixar films and cute animals don't hurt. The only good non eating fish is an animated fish, so it was really my cup of tea.
It was really quite funny and I would imagine that I will have it on DVD at some point. If you get the chance to watch Nemo, I recommend it. If you hated Monsters Inc and-or Toy Story, leave it alone, but also, get a fucking heart you soul-less prick. Elen Degeneres as Dori (sic) redeems her entire career in my mind as the ambitious fish who has lost her short term memory and the dude from Everybody Loves Raymond is solid as the aquarium bound puffer fish.
Freaky Friday was among the worst films of all time. Seriously, it was without question the worst film I have ever seen on the big screen. I would imagine that I have, very late on Cinemax or in my renting awful horror films with Matt B. phase, seen worse films, but never have I seen one in the theater. Admittedly, the Drive-In is a special form of the theater, its not like we paid just to see Jamie Lee Curtis (whom I like ever so much when she is acting like a dual-gendered adult) badly impersonate a teenager in the body of an adult. Nonetheless, it wasn't like renting it. It was just fucking bad. My statement last night to Katie was that “Freaky Friday was the worst movie I have ever seen in the theater, and I saw Super Mario Bros. on opening night.”
Pirates of the Caribbean is awesome. I fucking love Johnny Depp, he and Brad Pitt have arguably the sexiest and overall highest quality voices of all time. The special effects are really good and it may simply be that I like the aesthetics of pirate times. The music is good, the whole swashbuckling motif, its all sweet. You should definitely see this movie. Take the example of the people in the car next to us. Get ripped, see Finding Nemo, spend the entirety of Freaky Friday outside your car getting stoned, then rock out with hottie extraordinaire Johnny Depp as he plays Captain John Sparrow.
The second is likely unavailable to most people reading as I found it only due to my proximity to the great state (by which I mean awful country) of Canadia (Katie tribeuce). Actually, I did not even technically find this example, Katie herself did. It is, and I shit you not, I can provide internet based support, Canadian Idol. Canadian Idol, as you might have gathered, is the Canadian version of American Idol. You might think that it would simply be a little more lame than American Idol, especially because it is a rip off. I mean, the judges will be different and it would simply be a copy.
You would be right of course, it is a lame copy. But that is not all. Keep in mind that Canada is a big fucking country. I mean geographically its fucking huge and population wise its not much smaller than the US. Maybe I am wrong about that, but I think it is close to accurate. You would think then, that there would be at least a couple of decently talented people in Canada and maybe they would audition for Canadian Idol. Now, I cannot, of course, categorically reject the position that Canada has talented people. I can however, demonstrate that they did not make it to the final four contestants on Canadian Idol.
Seriously check out this website (www.idol.ctv.ca). Look at some of the contestants, for instance the last three. There are a couple things you should note:
1) They are not attractive-have you seen Billy Klippert, did you even look at him. Fucking look at Billy Clippert. He is fucking bald. He is not even like a cute prematurely balding guy. I am not even saying that bald people can’t be attractive or can’t be the Canadian Idol or that going prematurely bald is bad. Billy Kilppert, however, is not an attractive bald. He is going bald in the same way the guy you knew in high school who started working at the bowling alley his junior year and is still working at the bowling alley today is going bald. The bleached blonde balding look was never really cool. Its like he was a poseur when he took the night off from City Limits to go see Rancid at First Ave and he is still a poseur today, only now he is trying to use that “punk rock” image to make his “I don’t want to miss a thing” cover look cool.Don’t get me wrong, I have some problems with the basic idea of poseur-dom. I don’t think you should have to safety pin an Op-Ivy thing to your jean jacket and tattoo a bar code on your neck to like punk music. I don’t own an outfit which wasn’t purchased at Daytons but I’ve spent many a night in the clown lounge and I don’t think I was too out of place. Nonetheless, I think there is some difference between me and Billy. Maybe I will talk more about it later. Its not like Gary or Ryan (or whatever their fucking names are) are much better. I mean, they aren’t as nasty as Billy, but they suck. They aren’t even really like not great looking people whom fill a niche-you’ve got Ruben, the big teddy bear fat guy-you’ve got Clay as the dorky guy who is all hot underneath. Ryan isn’t the hot dork, he is just a fucking dork. A big fucking stupid dork with bad glasses. They are not attractive, not really at all.
2) They cannot fucking sing-listen to them. You can get steaming video clips about everyone. Make sure you check out Billy Klippert, dude is bad. After that head to Jenny Gear. She was eliminated before Billy, and rightfully so, but oh my god she is so fucking bad. There is no way someone like that wouldn’t even make the first cut on American Idol. I don’t know that any of these people would make the trip to LA, Katie thinks a couple might. There is no question that none of them would make the top 10. DO NOT LEAVE THIS SITE WITHOUT CHECKING OUT MIKEY BUSTOS!!! He is the inspiration for this post obviously, and he just rocks. He isn’t quite extreme as Billy Klippert but wow, he is weird looking and he fucking blows. Like, he blows hard. And what a great name, Mikey Bustos. Say the last name a couple times. You will love it.
3) The judges are very very cheap ripoffs of American Idols. There names are even rip offs of American Idol judges and they have no edge at all. I mean, Randy’s “yo dawg yo dawg yo yo yo yo dawg” is fucking Cosmo Kramer in relation to this shit. Their Simon is like a really really flaming British hairdresser. Laughable.
Anyway, that is all. Canadian Idol is hilarious. For your reference, the hot chick got kicked off tonight. Billy Klippert was not even in the bottom 2. I am cheering for this tool.
Peace,
MB-K
Monday, September 01, 2003
Katie's Birthday
So a public belated Happy Birthday to Ms. Katie Kauf, whom turned 23 years young this past Saturday. It was a very nice occassion enjoyed intensely by all who celebrate it around the world. As an interesting sidenote, Katie shares her birthday with, among others, the lovely Cameron Diaz of Charlie's Angels FULL THROTTLE fame.
So Friday night began Katie's birthday at approximately 12:01 eastern time. For a sane person a 23rd birthday wouldn't really begin until the next day, like the actual birthday. I mean, on your 21st birthday you get the power hour thing going on and I can follow you there. It makes sense, you go out, get wasted in like 45 minutes as a warm up to the next night. But when you are 23 it hardly seems like a big deal. I mean, I know I attach less importance to birthdays then most people, but I really do think Katie enjoys her birthday more than the average folk (not that there's anything wrong with that). So because she had done "such a good job" not opening her presents during the week, she got to open my present to her that night.
I had gotten her a KitchenAid Artisan 5 Quart Stand Mixer in grape, a very good purple color. It really is the best mixer in the world, literally, everyone uses it, and I know Katie wanted it, but I wasn't sure that it was really a legitimate birthday present. I mean, I know she likes to make cookies and stuff, but I felt bad that it wasn't a surprise and stuff. So I added to that a J Crew sweater of her choice as a legitimate surprise. We went to sleep shortly after she tried out her mixer. We woke up early, way way too early, on Saturday and Katie opened the remainder of her presents. There were a couple cookbooks and some tank tops and some cookie sheets. A very good package overall that provides recipes for the cookies, a place to mix them, and something to bake them on.
We made crepes for Katie's b-day breakfast and got to utilize the KitchenAid mixer to make the whipped cream. You know a breakfast is solid when it necessitates making whipped cream. I mean, I like the idea of some waffles, some crepes, an omelette, some hashed browns (doubled covered and smothered of course), and a wee bit of bacon or sausage or whatev. Throw a bowl of whipped cream in the middle of that buffet style brunch and you are fucking set. Maybe some cheese sauce too and a basket of hot soft Philly style pretzels. I have never been to Philadelphia, but from the things I know them as famous for (cheeseteaks and pretzels) I think we would get along very well. I wonder if anyone in Philly has ever combined those foods, because a cheesesteak served inside a pretzel is a good fucking idea, especially if both the components are legit, not fucking frozen superpretzels from the supermarchet. The point from this was that the KitchenAid mixer was incredible on the whipped cream. You would expect a good 3-4 minutes of whipping from a hand mixer, but the KitchenAid knocked it out in easily under a minute with no effort on my behalf. It rocked.
After that tasty breakfast we headed to J. Crew and got Katie a ribbed sweater that was all cottony and nice and blue and shit. I am sure you could find it on their website, as she did the other day, if you are really interested in Katie's recent sweater-torial acquisitions. I was glad that Katie enjoyed her present, but the real highlight of that mall experience was the fact that there were these people from some sort of nature preserve hanging around in there and they had these two birds, one was a hawk and the other was an owl. Both of them were really fucking cool and pretty, but the owl rocked really fucking hard. I think owls are awesome in general, but I love it when you can get all up close to them and see their big eyes and watch them do the weird neck turny thing. I don't think owls can really turn their heads all the way around, but they come pretty close and they do it really quickly and overall they rock. I got to watch the owl for a little bit and then we were off to enjoy the Masterworks from the Phillips Collection at the Albright-Knox art gallery.
The collection really was quite incredible and I am very pleased Katie got to see it. I really enjoyed both of my trips but it was nice to go back after having already surveyed the area once. The Renoir painting that highlighted the collection, Luncheon of the Boating Party, is really amazing in person, though not so much in any representation I have ever seen. The colors and the crystalline appearance is overwhelming and not a single print of it even approximates those elements. On the lighter side of all the VanGogh's that close out the exhibition and the suicidal note that it ends on, the audio tour of the Phillips Masterworks Exhibition is narrated by Buffalo institutions The Goo Goo Dolls. Katie broke out laughing on at least one occassion when the Boy Named Goo described Picasso's differing monochromatic periods. It was pretty funny, but overall a very cool thing. It was a brilliant Buffalo afternoon so we walked to and from a nice free parking space and enjoyed one of the few bright but cool moments of a Western New York summer.
We decided that all parts of the day outside of the visit to the art museum would be dominated by food. We came home and began that by enjoying a simple hors d'oerve of summer sausage and cheese and crackers. At the same time I prepared Katie's birthday dinner, chicken and dumplings. In case you are wondering or are not aware, chicken and dumplings is a food which is primarily tasty in its blandness. I like it and all, but it is not exactly a diverse cornucopia of competing flavors. I heartily respect Katie's right to whatever birthday dinner she desires (I mean, there were years where I rolled hamburgers or shephard's pie or bratwurst or whatever) but I am not sure balls of dough floating in a stew served over mashed potatoes is hot August afternoon food. Regardless, I think I did an okay job on my first attempt at Katie's favorite meal.
While some of that was cooking I worked on Katie's birthday cake. It was a new recipe that we decided to try, borrowed from a Cooking Pleasures magazine. It is a chocolate almond mocha torte cake which was composed, essentially, of chocolate, rum, almonds, sugar, espresso, butter, and egg whites. I mean, there was a little flour mixed in with the ground almonds and some corn syrup or whatever, but it was pretty dense. People think that egg whites will make a cake or simething all light, like a souffle is just air bubbles, but especially a torte like this (one which is essentially a collapsing souffle) is pretty tightly packed. I glazed that motherfucker after dinner and we enjoyed a slice late that night. I actually think it tastes better after having a day to set, but it was very good even that night.
I am a day behind or so on this journal, so there may be more to come tonight. Nonetheless, I am starving, all I have eaten today is a salad, some cookies, and a piece of delicious torte cake.
Peace,
MB-K
So Friday night began Katie's birthday at approximately 12:01 eastern time. For a sane person a 23rd birthday wouldn't really begin until the next day, like the actual birthday. I mean, on your 21st birthday you get the power hour thing going on and I can follow you there. It makes sense, you go out, get wasted in like 45 minutes as a warm up to the next night. But when you are 23 it hardly seems like a big deal. I mean, I know I attach less importance to birthdays then most people, but I really do think Katie enjoys her birthday more than the average folk (not that there's anything wrong with that). So because she had done "such a good job" not opening her presents during the week, she got to open my present to her that night.
I had gotten her a KitchenAid Artisan 5 Quart Stand Mixer in grape, a very good purple color. It really is the best mixer in the world, literally, everyone uses it, and I know Katie wanted it, but I wasn't sure that it was really a legitimate birthday present. I mean, I know she likes to make cookies and stuff, but I felt bad that it wasn't a surprise and stuff. So I added to that a J Crew sweater of her choice as a legitimate surprise. We went to sleep shortly after she tried out her mixer. We woke up early, way way too early, on Saturday and Katie opened the remainder of her presents. There were a couple cookbooks and some tank tops and some cookie sheets. A very good package overall that provides recipes for the cookies, a place to mix them, and something to bake them on.
We made crepes for Katie's b-day breakfast and got to utilize the KitchenAid mixer to make the whipped cream. You know a breakfast is solid when it necessitates making whipped cream. I mean, I like the idea of some waffles, some crepes, an omelette, some hashed browns (doubled covered and smothered of course), and a wee bit of bacon or sausage or whatev. Throw a bowl of whipped cream in the middle of that buffet style brunch and you are fucking set. Maybe some cheese sauce too and a basket of hot soft Philly style pretzels. I have never been to Philadelphia, but from the things I know them as famous for (cheeseteaks and pretzels) I think we would get along very well. I wonder if anyone in Philly has ever combined those foods, because a cheesesteak served inside a pretzel is a good fucking idea, especially if both the components are legit, not fucking frozen superpretzels from the supermarchet. The point from this was that the KitchenAid mixer was incredible on the whipped cream. You would expect a good 3-4 minutes of whipping from a hand mixer, but the KitchenAid knocked it out in easily under a minute with no effort on my behalf. It rocked.
After that tasty breakfast we headed to J. Crew and got Katie a ribbed sweater that was all cottony and nice and blue and shit. I am sure you could find it on their website, as she did the other day, if you are really interested in Katie's recent sweater-torial acquisitions. I was glad that Katie enjoyed her present, but the real highlight of that mall experience was the fact that there were these people from some sort of nature preserve hanging around in there and they had these two birds, one was a hawk and the other was an owl. Both of them were really fucking cool and pretty, but the owl rocked really fucking hard. I think owls are awesome in general, but I love it when you can get all up close to them and see their big eyes and watch them do the weird neck turny thing. I don't think owls can really turn their heads all the way around, but they come pretty close and they do it really quickly and overall they rock. I got to watch the owl for a little bit and then we were off to enjoy the Masterworks from the Phillips Collection at the Albright-Knox art gallery.
The collection really was quite incredible and I am very pleased Katie got to see it. I really enjoyed both of my trips but it was nice to go back after having already surveyed the area once. The Renoir painting that highlighted the collection, Luncheon of the Boating Party, is really amazing in person, though not so much in any representation I have ever seen. The colors and the crystalline appearance is overwhelming and not a single print of it even approximates those elements. On the lighter side of all the VanGogh's that close out the exhibition and the suicidal note that it ends on, the audio tour of the Phillips Masterworks Exhibition is narrated by Buffalo institutions The Goo Goo Dolls. Katie broke out laughing on at least one occassion when the Boy Named Goo described Picasso's differing monochromatic periods. It was pretty funny, but overall a very cool thing. It was a brilliant Buffalo afternoon so we walked to and from a nice free parking space and enjoyed one of the few bright but cool moments of a Western New York summer.
We decided that all parts of the day outside of the visit to the art museum would be dominated by food. We came home and began that by enjoying a simple hors d'oerve of summer sausage and cheese and crackers. At the same time I prepared Katie's birthday dinner, chicken and dumplings. In case you are wondering or are not aware, chicken and dumplings is a food which is primarily tasty in its blandness. I like it and all, but it is not exactly a diverse cornucopia of competing flavors. I heartily respect Katie's right to whatever birthday dinner she desires (I mean, there were years where I rolled hamburgers or shephard's pie or bratwurst or whatever) but I am not sure balls of dough floating in a stew served over mashed potatoes is hot August afternoon food. Regardless, I think I did an okay job on my first attempt at Katie's favorite meal.
While some of that was cooking I worked on Katie's birthday cake. It was a new recipe that we decided to try, borrowed from a Cooking Pleasures magazine. It is a chocolate almond mocha torte cake which was composed, essentially, of chocolate, rum, almonds, sugar, espresso, butter, and egg whites. I mean, there was a little flour mixed in with the ground almonds and some corn syrup or whatever, but it was pretty dense. People think that egg whites will make a cake or simething all light, like a souffle is just air bubbles, but especially a torte like this (one which is essentially a collapsing souffle) is pretty tightly packed. I glazed that motherfucker after dinner and we enjoyed a slice late that night. I actually think it tastes better after having a day to set, but it was very good even that night.
I am a day behind or so on this journal, so there may be more to come tonight. Nonetheless, I am starving, all I have eaten today is a salad, some cookies, and a piece of delicious torte cake.
Peace,
MB-K
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