Culinary Adventure the First

So after subsisting on a diet of canned soup, pb&j sandwiches and breakfast cereal for four months or so I decided I needed a change of pace.

So I put on my chef hat, called up a new friend to be my sou chef and cooked up this.

I honestly wish I had taken a picture, because against all odds it came out amazingly. I was honestly expecting sauce on the walls, sliced fingers and fires of varying intensity. The only thing I got worried about was my sou friend sniffing the curry powder. I saw the horrible image of her nearly losing a lung to a sneezing fit.

Only things I would suggest as a change to the recipe is to use thick boneless chops, put a few apple slices in the sauce instead of just cider and go a bit lighter on the onions (even for the half serving we made). Oh, and garlic never hurts. Totally going to comment to this effect on Epi.

I now totally see why people food blog. You get to boast and salivate.

Also, Mirassou Pinot Noir is terrible. Stay far away.

August?

How the hell is it August already? How the hell is it mid-August? Summer is waning! So little time left for outdoor drinking, lounging, trysts and adventures.

Sorry blog, but I have one planned for tonight (not telling of what variety), so off I go.

Mugged

I was officially welcomed to the neighborhood on Friday night. Not really in the mood to write about it. $250 poorer.

Ow.

Just started going to the gym again after a two month hiatus. Even my fingers hurt. It's a great feeling, but it saps my energy. Also, I can believe how much things atrophied in that time. But hey, 'tis free!

Weekend-end

Great weekend. Met lots of cool people on a Night Hike to Bear Mountain ('smores! Wonderful 'smores!). Rooftop party on Friday, and then another one on Saturday. So much delicious beer and meat that I need to detox now. Ended up in the line for Shakespeare in the Park at an ungodly hour on Sunday morning, but it worked out. It was one of those strange and very unique New York experiences where there are very very strict rules about the line, but everyone is really friendly and talkative once it's established that you're not up to any shenanigans. I'll post some photos from the firework display once I upload them.

Time Zones

Neat.

http://gizmodo.com/5306214/the-aliens-of-the-star-iota-horologii-are-just-watching-captain-kangaroo-now

Life +

Madoff got 150 years. I love our legal system and its unrelenting need to attach a quantifiable penalty to each and every high profile crime (other than death, which is a whole other can of worms). I mean they couldn't just say "You're a schmuck, we're never letting you out?" I know, it doesn't send the message on white collar crime the judge wanted to spend, but I think it's clear to most people that when you rip off thousands of people for billions of dollars, you're going to get some karma coming to your door at the middle of the night for some revenge.

I still say the best solution would be to let each and every person screwed by this guy to get exactly one shot at him with a baseball bat (no kneecaps or headshots!) and televise it.

Who ya gonna call?

Saw some nice mammatocumuli clouds on Friday night, prior to drinking downtown. This isn't my picture, but it was taken pretty much down the street from where I was.

It was one of those bizarre moments because literally everyone on the street had stopped and looked up. Even the homeless dude wandering around paused in his soliloquy of "Whitemotherfuckerswhitemotherfuckers" to utter an "oh, pretty." Reminds me of scene from Ghostbusters, actually.

Oh, and regarding the post below, apparently I forgot about Ed McMahon. And now Billy Mays. See? Death and destruction and Hollywood star killer viruses. Crazy.

In Threes

So I hear that celebrity deaths, much like bad luck, come in threes. With Fawcett and Jackson down, I guess there's still one outstanding (Jeff Goldblum was apparently rumored to have died as well, but as it happens the Interwebs just confused "dead" with "no longer relevant").

The obit for Fawcett in the Times was actually condescending as all hell. It's always nice when someone dies (celebrity or not) of cancer and the lede for the obituary is basically "Well, she was a sex symbol. And she tried to be more. But it didn't happen. But trying is good, right?" Not that it matters, as MJ is going to dominate the headlines. It took all of about two hours for the major media outlets to start racing to find the last photo taken of him, which, as it happens, was him on a stretcher being loaded into an ambulance. It's official. We live in a culture with no class whatsoever.

So now I suppose we have to sit back and wait for the third celebrity to drop. And I get to sit back and wait for the next two "unfortunate opportunities" to arise. Woot and a half.

Plans

In an attempt to not become one of the millions of "derelict" blogs that were recently mentioned in an article I read, I'll be updating once a day. Due to a lack of internet at home, it'll be before work. Shhh... don't tell the boss.

It's Called A Filter. Sometimes I lack it.

The following gChat just happened. It proves, once and for all, I am a master of segues. That's just how it goes with me. One moment you're talking about dudes with a fear of commitment and then BOOM, vomit story!


E: either she'll say yes
or she'll say no and it will be over
the dithering... that's bad

me: yes
shit or get off the damn pot

E: i was like "she won't care if there are diamonds that you are in michigan"

me: hahaha
true. for each diamond you get one "get out of jail free" card.
one diamond? you get to go to michigan and she won't care
two? michigan AND you can drunkenly mention that her best friend is hot and she can't get mad
and so forth...

E: haha

me: you must have been restraining yourself from just yelling it

E: i know

me: i had that situation today. but I didn't restrain myself
on the way home this woman was on the train with her kid
and the kid starts to puke EVERYWHERE
and not just once. like again and again and again.
so we get to the next stop, and she tries to stay on the train
and a woman says "ma'am, maybe you better get off until he feels better." and she says, no, I'd rather not."

E: really?

me: and I just look up and say very calmly "Miss. Your boy just vomited on my shoes. I like these shoes. You should get off the train. Like right now."
and away they went!
and now my sneakers are in the washing machine..

E: the pumas?


Yes. Well not my Pumas, my Converse. Which sucks as I hardly wear them and I was trying to change that. That wee little bastard and his regurgitated GoGurt. One, what kind of mom lets a kid have a GoGurt at 7:30am? Two, what the hell is GoGurt?

Tie-pocalypse Now

Okay, so honestly, I have no words for the hideousness contained above.

Maybe not so honest. I love this tie because it is so wonderfully, out-of-this world bad. Not badass mind you, just bad. As in the designer who is responsible for this should be given a medal and then promptly shot. Because ugliness on this scale requires skill.

Comments about this tie from co-workers:
"Omigod it hurts to look at."
"Did you make your rug into a necktie?"
"Dude, something ugly died on your shirt."
"It's so ugly it's beautiful. And then it moves past beautiful, right back into ugly."

If only the knot wasn't so out of place color-wise!

Original Price: 36.50
C21 Price: 12.00
Sale Price: 9.00

An American Tragedy

So being that I clearly don't have enough to keep me busy, I've entered into a literary pact with my BGE. We're working our way through the 100 Greatest American Books in alphabetical order. My first assignment was "An American Tragedy," by Dreiser.
Now before I post my reaction/thoughts to this 600 page saga, let me begin by saying this: I can honestly see why people would think this is a great book. Dreiser is very, very good at developing his main character Clyde, and although you make some rather abrupt jumps forward in time, you almost feel like you grow up with the guy.
I don't want to post too much, as it'll ruin the book for my partner in crime, but I'll air two complaints. First, most of the other characters, as opposed to Clyde, are weak and interchangeable. Now I can already hear a defense in the manner of "Well perhaps Dreiser was trying to portray the characters as Clyde, in his self-centered manner, saw (or failed to see) them." I disagree. I think Dreiser simply aimed very high insofar has the scope of the novel. He pulled some things off well, others, like this, not so well. Secondly, the pace of the book completely throws you at the end. And not in a good way. After 500 pages of Clyde whining, moralizing, shaking his hands at the heavens, worrying about his clothes and coming up with great pick up lines like "Oh you sweet, wonderful kid you!" the book drives you off a cliff of shock and into a deep bay of hopelessness and terrible metaphors (like these!).
In the end the book reads like a warning or a very scary episode of Davey and Goliath. Basically, if you chase booze and women and let yourself fall into fast life of nice clothes and an office job, you will die by electrocution. In all seriousness, I think Dreiser was positing the opposite of the clean, earned by the sweat of your brow American Dream in the form of Clyde's downfall.

Next up, Appointment in Samarra. Only like 98 more until I can read Watchman for the 50th time! Woot!

Things I've Realized.

1. Once work requires you to get up at 5:30am, it really doesn't matter if they want you in even earlier. Prior to sunrise all the minutes and seconds and such tend to blend together.

2. Everyone has a crazy subway perv story to relate. It usually involves indecent exposure and the occasional karmically appropriate beat down.

3. Removing one's gloves prior to shaking hands is such basic etiquette that even the greenest of construction worker knows to do it.

4. I'm going to bed. See #1.

Supertie III: Red Dawn

This is one of my personal favorites. It's simultaneously subtle and loud as hell. Please ignore the fact that I'm wearing the same shirt as the post below, the tie is the focus here people! Anyways, I like that the pattern is the same color as the tie. Also, I like the fact that it is the same pattern as some sweet curtains my awesome girlfriend once picked out. Which alas, are no longer with us. But the tie then is permanently tied to some form of the curtain matching the drapes or tie or what have you joke that I'm too tired to formulate.

Quote of the Day: Holy crap, that's the loudest design on a quiet tie I've ever seen.

Original Price (DKNY): $80.00
C21 Price: $24.50

Blazing Ties II

GASP! Why who is that sharp dressed man there?? The shirt, so blue. The skin, so painfully white. The tie, so, how shall I say? Deco? A lovely silver/silverish number, with a shiny portion up top revealed sliver by sliver. It's by some French dude. Lamont or something. My only complaint is that the transition should be lower. Oh well, can't have it all.

Real price: $40
C21 Price: $12
Sale Price: $6


Quote of the day: "Man, if the Empire State Building were to wear a tie, that would totally be it."

Tie Wars I

A note before beginning. Two shirt were also purchased in the midst of this frenzy and this should be noted, as shopping sprees, if anything, should be properly documented. That said, feast your eyes on this!
Note the subtlety, the understated nature of its silvery grey goodness. Bask in the fact that yes, this is indeed a "Perry Ellis Slim Tie" and therefore hip and yet in a respectable, not a dirty bum from Williamsburg and not in anyway ironic. Marvel at the tastefully sized diagonal strips of goodness. Frolic in the gaiety of savings of nearly $50. Frolic I say. You're not frolicking hard enough! More gaiety now!

Original price: $64
C21 price: $24
Sale price: $12

Neckware Galore!!!

My first paycheck resulted in a shopping spree of titanic proportions. Huge. Like nearly $500 big.
Which would have broken the bank several times over if I had not been expertly guided to an amazing store that apparently just sells stuff that falls off the back of a truck. That's the only explanation. I saved like $300 and got 6 awesome ties out of the deal. SIX!

So, my promise to my many many readers: a week long tie event! a stupendous sartorial celebration of unbelievable magnitude! A whole week!

First one to come.... TONIGHT!

Down the Hole

I went here today and yesterday:


The great thing about my job is this: I get a badge, a hardhat and vest. Then I get to go anywhere I want, talk to whoever I think it would be fun to talk to and in general just be a sponge and look at everything happening. The best thing of all is that I get to learn everything relating to this. And when I move to another project, I get to learn everything there is to know about the work going on there. It's like going to school but getting paid for it.
In other news, went out for drinks with my coworkers for the first time. We went to a dive. An awesome dive where the cushions are fashioned out of a delicate balance of duct tape an fluff. This pleases me greatly.

Invasion of the Cinnabons

About 3 or 4 years ago I was working in Brooklyn doing renovations and the like. For about three days, over portions of Manhattan and the *ahem* outer boroughs, a delicious smell prompted calls to 311 (and ridiculously, 911). The debate is still on to what the smell precisely resembled. Some say pancake syrup, others fresh baked cinnamon buns. That's irrelevant. I was mostly amused by the very fact that people were getting stress out about it. Besides the question of who the considerate terrorist is that unleashed pleasantly scented poisoned gas, I want to know why I live in a city where a good number of residents become concerned when the air starts to smell pleasant. Poison me with syrup fumes, and I shall die with a smile on my face.

Apparently the smell was floating around again late last night. Mark my words, in 10 years all those who sniffed the wonder gas will have super powers. That or it's a harbinger of a giant Cinnabon invasion. And I for one would like to take this opportunity to welcome our deliciously warm and gooey new overlords.

Second day of work out of the way. Been thrown in to see if I can swim. So far I'm doing much better than if I had to swim!

First Day of Work

I officially join the workforce today, an event that is both quite exciting and just a wee bit nerve racking all at the same time, mostly because I'm not quite sure what to expect. But I go in style, thanks to my wonderful girlfriend, complete with new bag, new tie, business cards, and delicious high class coffee in my stomach.
Woot!