Friday, April 29, 2005

I'll be back tomorrow

Going out to visit some family. I will be having dinner at a fine establishment that offers both steak and sushi, as well as an excellent selection of after dinner ports. And I'm not paying, even better.

I think I will have spicy tuna roll, ankimo (monkfish liver) and perhaps the uni (sea urchin roe). Then I'm going to eat a large piece of bloody, rare steak. Maybe a porterhouse. I will follow this with a glass of 20 year old tawny port. After which I will explode like Mr. Creosote (sp?) from "Monty Python's The Meaning Of Life".

Then I'll drive back tomorrow.

Til then, kids.

Thursday, April 28, 2005

Is there such a thing as a stupid question?

Normally, I'd say no. Asking questions leads to the spread of knowledge.

But, then this happens:

Me: Ok, copy down the following question off the board. I'd like you to treat this as a brief, 3 paragraph essay question. You may use the remainder of the class period to brainstorm and outline your response. The rough draft of the essay is due tomorrow.

And then I write some pithy question about comparing and contrasting the closing arguments of prosectuing attorney Mr. Gilmer and Atticus Finch in the rape trial of Mayella Ewell v. Tom Robinson from To Kill A Mockingbird. I ask for complicated things like predictions about the outcome of the trial. 3 paragraphs. Minimum: 15 sentences. The horror. The horror.

Student: Um.

Me: Yes?

Student: Is this for a grade?

No, this is meaningless busy work. I thought I'd upload your essay, in particular, to the magical passworded site on the Internet where teachers get together to make fun of your writing ability. You know, for giggles. Because I clearly have it in for you to make you write 15 sentences for homework. I thought that we'd just make a big bonfire out of all the classes' essays tomorrow and have s'mores. Yes. You all need more sugar and chocolate in your diet and this will be chocolaty and cathartic. I thought I'd collect your essays and use them to spackle my kitchen with some spit, elbow grease and a dream. The one where you don't blurt stupid shit out.

Of course it's for a grade.

Me: It's for a grade.

Tomorrow's Friday...tomorrow's Friday...



Wednesday, April 27, 2005

A Deep Icky In My Stomach

Argh! Need Soul Bleach!

I know Dennis Miller is no longer necessarily the guy I remember from the Saturday Night Live "news" or the "Off White Album". I tried keeping up with the show on HBO. I bought the damn "Rants" book. I watched with amusement as he attempted to "color" football. I tuned in to the occasional MSNBC broadcast. I know he's done commercial voice-over (and spot) work. But, tonight, I heard him voice-over a L'Oreal ad (for men!). On some level, "glad he's still working (?!)", but, shilling for moisturizer? I don't even have anything snarky to say here except: it was a spot break during "The Daily Show". Dennis, do we really need to point out how much better Jon Stewart does the newsdesk thing than you did? And I was a loyal fan as a teenager. Cetainly not that you needed to keep doing the same damn thing, but, dude, what the hell happened? If "maturity" or family or whatever changes you point of view that drastically, then I'm having none of it.

That said, how much is commercial voice-over paying these days? I'm told I'm very articulate.

And I need money.


Shout Out!

Hello to Ernie's 3D Pancakes . Thanks for linking! Hello folks thanks for visiting!

I enjoyed your "Worst Math Answer EVAR" post. I will be inflicting the problem on my kids to see what they can do with it. I just tried showing to Mr. Scoop right now and it made him very angry. Of course, he's been drinking and doesn't remember rules for exponents in equations.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Today is "Teach Your Child Money Sense" day...

...or some such nonsense. Did you know that the experts say that a child's allowance should be equal to $1 for every year old he is per week? The logic being that if he makes an error in judgement with $30 at age 10 it'll be better than if he makes an error in judgement with $30,000 at age 30. I say "if it was good enough for me, dammit..."

I can't imagine what the average ten year old is going to do with $10 a week. But, I suppose they should find out sooner rather than later that a $50 crack whore is really going to cost them more than that in the long run.

This may be why I don't have children.


This is also "Turn Your Tv Off Week". I've celebrated by watching tv in copious amounts every day this week. Yes, I should read more. But, "24" was on Monday and then "House" tonight and then tomorrow is a big night with "Smallville", "Lost" and "Alias". By then the whole week has gone to hell. I'll read when I'm in the bathroom, thank you very much, as God intended.

For those folks that are zealous about it, a device has been created that allows the user to turn off any tv at any time. It is small enough to fit on a keyring and give the user plausible deniability. There's a whole article about it in the Daily Telegraph (and if you read it, you'll be working toward the aims of the folks who lobbied for this week to exist because you'll be, well, reading):

Have an affair, go hang-gliding naked: zap the telly and get a life.


But, as for me, Letterman is beckoning. I hear Hank Azaria will be on. There may even be some kind of whacky top ten list.

Monday, April 25, 2005

In which I bemoan my lack of financial acumen

I finally managed to finish my masters degree in education a couple years ago. I have steady employment in a reasonably well paying job. I have my own apartment and a car on which I no longer need to make monthly payments. So why do I feel as though I'm constantly living paycheck to paycheck every month?

I would love to find myself in a position where I can start saving enough money to open some kind of 401K (although, I do have money that goes into the teacher's retirement fund - still, will it be enough? Probably not.). The nice lady on the radio said that in order to retire comfortably one should about put away $4000 a year in something aggressive so you end up with about a million dollars to live on. Where am I supposed to trim my spending to find 4000 extra dollars? I need to eat and I really enjoy electricity!

So, I find myself panicking and trying to save money by jamming random leftovers into casseroles when I would rather call for take out. The official name for this casserole is "Anything With Rice".


I learned about it from the fine folks at Get Stuffed, which was a show that came on late nights on ITV when I lived in London. Each episode was no more than 10 minutes and it detailed how to make quick eats for cheap. Everyday folks were assisted in their food preparation by the narration of the animated "mystery chefs":

When I see how easy it is to put together a program that teaches basic cooking for those on a budget, it makes the crap the Food Network has been forcing down it's perceived demographic's throat that much more odious.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

My College Reunion (Or When Is Home Invasion Not Really Home Invasion?)

In the not too distant past, I attended my 10-year college reunion.

I hadn’t originally planned on going. Of course, I hadn’t planned on going to my five year reunion either – only to go on a bender with my partner in crime for the evening and talk him into driving to Maine at 2 in the morning. It seemed like a really good idea at the time. I had to stop at LL Bean to buy clothes sometime around 6am. At 7, we rolled into a truck stop called Bonnie’s. Fueled by caffeine and grease, we retired to a motel until noon. When we got to the college, I spent 2 or 3 awkward hours showing off my campus and running into people who didn’t expect to see me. Then we drove home.

So, when Lance and Ice Baby initially invited me along for the 10-year I was a bit hesitant. After all, what are college reunions? Let’s get a bunch of over-achievers who are rapidly approaching mid-life crisis alone together on campus with only each other and a keg of beer for company – what could possibly go wrong? It’ll be like the Big Chill, but with keg stands.

However, I’m glad I went. I got to reconnect with folks I hadn’t seen in a while. Glory days were relived. And, how could I not end up loving something that began with whiskey and ended with home invasion?

On a side note – Is it really home invasion if it’s only a dorm room?

Here’s how the evening broke down:

7:30pm – Whiskey shots at the pre-dinner reception. Because an open bar means extra alumni donations.

9:00pm – I discover it’s possible to put down an entire bottle of wine with dinner if I don’t worry about social conventions like white wine with chicken or public drunkenness..

Midnight – Let the drinking games begin! Our school’s drinking game of choice is beer die. Opponents must try to toss a tiny die into a large cup at the end of a table approximately 6 feet long. There are many rules. It’s very easy to break the rules; this gives you additional opportunities to drink. Additional opportunities to drink make ideas like tormenting the class of ’98 in the neighboring dorm seem like a good idea – right up until you piss them off and need to beat a hasty retreat from the building. I’m sure Lance didn’t really mean to call that girl “easy”.

1:30am (ish) – We decide to explore the gutted dorm under renovation. Successful entry leads to the idea that we should try to get into other buildings. We begin with the theater building. Here we learn that I can’t pick locks with a pen knife. I can only draw blood. Fortunately, we discover that the key card we’ve been issued will get us into any dorm on campus.

2:00am – The occupants of the dorm holding the 50+ crowd have foolishly left their beer out. We avail ourselves of it. And some water. Water is good for you. Have some. Anyway, further exploration of the building leads to the discovery of rooms with open doors. As we hover in one such open doorway discussing whether we should check out the room, we hear feebly from inside the room: “Please go away”. Apparently the 80-something year old occupant was just trying to get some cross ventilation, not visitors. Not wanting to be the cause of a heart attack or find ourselves busted by campus security, we leave.

3:00am – I am very adamant that I know a shortcut through the woods that will take us to the top of the hill in back of the theater. I am very wrong. I am also very sure that I can walk in a straight line on a path through the woods. Here I am also wrong: I somehow manage to fall off a 5 foot embankment into branches and leaves. Miraculously, I have broken no bones.

3:30am – I go to sleep in the cement box that passes for my dorm room.

9:00am – I wake up covered in my own blood. I look at my hands to make sure I haven’t murdered the computer science professor that nearly kept me from graduating on time. Turns out that my jaunt off the cliff left a nasty open gash on my shin. If you look closely, you can see bone through the blood. I apply a band-aid.

So, all in all, much fun was had by most. Specifically, I had fun. You can never really go back to your glory days, but you can have fun trying. I look forward to seeing what kind of trouble I can get into at the 15 or 20-year.

Friday, April 22, 2005

I'm not sure who'll need therapy more

Woman Breastfeeds Tiger Cubs


Aw. Lookit. Cute wittle kitties who will be more likely to maul you than nurse from you in a few months.

I find it creepy enough when a woman feels compelled to whip out a breast and feed her kid while engaging in otherwise public activities, like eating at a restaurant. But this? This just screams awful fetish porn for Siegfried and Roy. Or people like this:

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Sometimes you just have to hang a clown...



Or an illustration of a clown puppet. I've become very lenient in my old age.


MOVING ON.


Actually, what I wanted to discuss was my growing obsession with Japanese horror films.

It began innocently with flirtation with animae: "Princess Mononoke", for example.

In reality though, there is nothing like a night of quality American film viewing ("Fight Club", "Hannibal") topped off with animae ("Akira"). Akira is awesome. You don't get that kind of excellent balance between science fiction and horror unless you're a fan of "Alien" or "Scanners" (God bless Michael Ironsides, huh?).

Anyway, I was first drawn to Japanese horror movies with the advent of "Ringu".


THE EVIL CREEPY CRAWLY COMES OUT OF THE TV!!!!!!!!!

As a child, a good chunk of my nightmares involved monsters coming out of the tv to take me away. Ok, they were, um, muppets... Still... It messed with my typical Sunday evening "Muppet Show" viewing when I was 8.

I had a large stuffed panda that was my saviour when the muppets where too realistic to deal with. The panda, which I seem to have owned from birth based on pictures, had no name. Until about age 3, it was approximately my size. I do know it saved me from the Jabberwock and, possibly, Sweetums. There was also a meanacing carnivorous Ivy plant at some point. I blame that on Dr. Who.

"Ringu" appeals to me on a variety of levels. There is an atmospheric level where we worry that the mother and child have been influenced by supernatural forces. There is a crime busting level where the mom tries to solve the problem through dint of her journalistic skills (she works for a newspaper). There is a familial level where the son's absent dad tries to help out and be the protective force that's clearly been missing from his kid's life (my parents are divorced...whatever...). Then there is Sadako. She's just a force of supernature. Her mind burns the image of whatever she is focusing on into any medium she chooses. And, because of this, after her spirit is burned onto VHS, she can then climb out of the tv and visit havoc on the hapless viewer.

Hey, I don't write it. I just watch it.

Mr. Scoop, knowing my affinity for things Japanese horror, tracked down "Ringu" for me. We watched it before the American version, "The Ring", hit the screen.

I'm used to watching alternate versions of movies before I actually see them.

In 5th grade I had a novelization of "Return of the Jedi" (with movie pictures!!! Thanks, Scholastic Books!) well before I actally saw the movie. I felt extrordinarily cheated by the time I saw the actual movie, but, that was mostly because of the Ewoks.

But, I really enoyed the original version of "The Ring".

The American version was also really good. But, it was just -different. If you read comic books, the American version is an "Elseworlds". It's good; it's just not the normal continuity.

There are many sites on this topic. Google them, for Chrissakes.

I'm just saying they're both good, but I prefer "Ringu".


I'll get into that more later, hopefully.


"There are no bad houses. Just bad people."

So says George Lutz in the craptacular "Amityville Horror" remake.

I liked him better when he was calling his nemesis a "cock juggling thunder cunt" .


Look. Ultimately we have to accept that complete and utter assholes can live, with their whole immediate families, in houses.


This evil can saturate the houses. Such is the premise of "Ju-on".

A woman becomes obesessed with a professor. Professors are, after all, a clear threat to your women. You should do something to lock that down. Saltpeter, mayber.

Anyway, her husband flips out and kills everything in the house. Which is unfortunate - insofar as he also manages to kill the famly cat. This unlocks (near as I can tell) a cat demon. It attaches itself to the house. The bad things happen.

Now, I did watch "Ju-on" ("The Grudge") in the original verision and prefer the American remake. And it's not because I'm a Buffy fanatic. Although, Sarah Michelle Geller did star in the remake.

Of course, I'd been driniking heavily when I saw "Ju-on". I'm willing to give it a second chance.


Things I Can't Have .

Audition .

I can't have "Audition'.

It costs more than I wish to spend.

And this tale of things that appear to be that which they are not not must be special ordered. For bunches of money.

Argh.

The mere fact that I know that there is a twist already interferes with my viewing pleasure. And yet I must see this.


Other things.

In the real world, I teach English. Specifically, writing. I try to impress upon my kids that it's important to follow the five steps of the writing process (apparently you have to revise after drafting). So, tonight, I tried to at least follow an outline with my blathering:


Do what I say and not what I do.


Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Homemade Karaoke (Or How To Annoy Your Neighbors in 2 Easy Steps)


So much fun, even former Russian president Boris Yeltsin is doing it!

Sometimes, the hills are alive with the sound of music. Sometimes, it's just your bedroom.

But, some night you'll be home alone, the stereo will be blasting. You will have had a beverage, most likely of the alcoholic persuasion. Perhaps you'll have had several. And you'll look around your tiny one bedroom apartment and think "You know: It's all part of my rock and roll fantasy." You may even get as far as "It's all part of my rock and roll dream". But you may get distracted by something shiny instead. I often do.

Here's what I do when the urge to be a rock god takes hold.

1. Check my beverage situation. Rock gods need to have many fine, frosty beverages to fuel the fire of their greatness.

2. Fire up WinAmp (or similar media device). Turn speaker knob to 11. Consider getting a closed bedroom door between me and the rest of the world. Become the rock god I always knew I could be.

3. Find groupies (optional):



Great big voice + Tiny quiet dorm = ...ok I was promised there'd be no math...

Ultimately, I don't really even need to be drinking to sing. Particularly if I've slapped on headphones. I sing pretty loud to begin with. When I can't hear myself, apparently I'm even louder. To the tune of "can be heard outside the building two houses down". I discovered this in college, when I lived in the quiet dorm. One afternoon I decided to partake of Madonna's "Immaculate Collection" during some downtime. Being a good "quiet dorm community member", I donned headphones to keep my music to myself. Unfortunately, those damn catchy tunes came spilling out of my mouth as I went about my afternoon. By the time I emerged for dinner, a small group of frightened dorm residents had gathered outside my room concerned that I was perhaps in great pain or sacrificing a cat to the gods of academia (one of the best way to assure the ever elusive 4.00 GPA, though not as good as the blood of virgin theater majors - a rare commodity, indeed).

Alas, I'd been "too loud". I was reprimanded. You'd think I'd puked in the front lobby of the "chemical free" dorm, home of the straight-edge, the repressed, and those with lousy room-draw numbers.


London: Home of the Ugly American

When I lived in London, my penchant for loud headphone singing actually caused my downstairs neighbor to come upstairs and politely ask me to keep it down. Apparently, I could be heard in his flat through two sets of locked doors. I agreed and took off my headphones. There was really no reason why, I decided, that Denis Leary's "Asshole" couldn't be shared with the whole building. They moved out soon after. I have no idea why.

Why Not Just Go Out? There Are Places That Serve Beer To People Just Like You!

Yes, there are, in fact, no fewer than 4 places that offer actual karaoke within 10 minutes walk from my apartment. I could go hang out with other deluded souls like myself with very little effort. And that doesn't even include "Dementia Day" at the nursing home across the street.

But it's often a struggle to get others to go. Conflicting schedules, stage fright and the desire not to hang out with the musically and/or socially challenged often keep otherwise enthusiastic drinking buddies away. In the words of Mr. Scoop the last time I asked him to join me: "Ok, but I'm going to need a quarter barrel...and an IV..."

Just what does it take for me to decide that I should stop bothering my neighbors and take it "outside"? A glimmer of self-awareness. And the hubris that only comes from 750ml of sake, 1/2 a bottle of sauvignon blanc and the joy of discovering $40 in my other pair of pants. Then, and only then, will I journey to "outside" karaoke alone.

Of course, once I arrive I realize I'm the person that no one at karaoke wants to be. I'm drunk, alone and gleefully singing along to the instrumental track of "Kiss Me Deadly" in front of people who managed to drag their friends and co-workers out for a night of bonding. Who is the crazy lady shrieking off key in the front of the room? Oh, that'd be me. Fortunately, I've had four more beers and won't care until I wake up the next day with my friend "Grievous Stabby Pain In The Head Hangover". He likes to convince you he's gone away until you turn your head just the wrong way. Then he takes an ice pick to the back of your eye. He's a great guy.

Monday, April 18, 2005

The Pantsless Lurker Lurks Again



Today is Patriots’ Day (in Boston, anyway). To celebrate this, last night there was a fireworks display in the next town over. My apartment, being a corner unit on the middle floor of the building, is the perfect vantage point to watch fireworks. Great visibility, no trees or people’s heads to interfere, and a screen to keep bugs out (although we were visited by a spider, which I needed to assassinate before Mr. Scoop would join me in fireworks watching festivities).

Tonight’s beverage of choice, a fine Neyers Chardonnay that remained from our visit with the Manions over the weekend, was within easy reach of the fridge from where we lurked at the window. I chose to lurk at the window in my favorite fireworks watching condition: pantsless. Not because I’m an exhibitionist, but more just because I could. This is one of the small joys of living alone.

I had stumbled across the “pants optional” method of fireworks viewing three years ago. That summer was particularly brutal with heat and I lacked air conditioning. So, off went my pants. I did not arrive at this epiphany alone. There was much cheap Canadian whisky and ginger ale helping in the thought process. Some people would call that drink a “highball”. My mother would. All I knew is that it went down easy and led to me losing my pants. I tried to get Mr. Scoop to share in my joy, but alas, he’d passed out several hours earlier and had one of those “job” things to go to in the morning. So, toddled back to my window alone to enjoy whisky, fireworks and the breeze.

So, on this occasion I would like to thank the brave men and women who’ve fought for this country. Without you, I would not have the freedom to stand pantsless at my window. Have a frosty beverage and enjoy your day!

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Yay! Robby Roadsteamer!

Yay! Robby and Nick!



And also to the other guys in the band. They made the finals of the WBCN Rock and Roll Rumble. If you happen to be in the Boston area, the finals are this Friday at the Middle East (472 Massachusetts Ave., Cambridge) at 9pm. If you have never seen this band, I highly recommend them. The songs have the advantage of being hilarious as well as rocking damn hard. Robby is what I'd imagine the bastard love child of Freddy Mercury and Hulk Hogan would be like (if such a thing were scientifically possible).

Good luck and go get 'em, guys!


In other news, things are pretty quiet here at Casa del Scoop. Recovering from an excellent visit from Lance Manion and Mrs. Manion. Much fun was had; many beverages were quaffed; and, we look forward to eventually reading about the further adventures of Bo Justice on Lance's site. No pressure, Lance.

Saturday, April 16, 2005

Why I drink alone (mostly)

I needed a fine, frosty beverage. I picked out a place. Here’s why I don’t drink with other women.

She: “I can’t believe you want to go in there.”

Me: “Uh…”

She: “I mean, there’s no windows…”

Me: “Um…”

She: “Look at this place!!!! It’s all painted black. “ She pouted. I hate it when the chiquita-set pout. Makes me want to hit them with something heavy. Lots.

She: “How am I supposed to get my Sutter Home White Zinfandel in here? I bet they don’t even have rosé.”

I don’t pretend to know a lot about wine. But, I do know this:

Red wine is for red meat.

White wine is for fish and poultry.

Rosé is for dicks.


At least that’s what a former roommate said, and I can’t follow up because he’s fucked off to someplace with no forwarding address.

Maybe it was something I said.

Friday, April 15, 2005

The Garden Gnome - Nature's Helpful Vigilante



Grandma Stops Intruder With Garden Gnome


See. This is what happens when you have "gun laws". You're forced to be creative to protect what's yours. Thank God Gnomey McGnomster was there. Rumor has it that the town of Wadebridge (scene of the crime!) will soon be installing a Gnome Signal - just in case something like this happens again.

We will all sleep better because of this tonight.

Well, at least I will.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Parenthood - But what's in it for me?

This Is A Hell Of A Time-out

"Indians Charged With Burying Children Alive"

This happened, for at least a minute (every two years...you do the math) in Tamil Nadu .

So, I guess this is a Hindu ritual. You get to drug your first born unconscious and then lovingly bury him/her in a shallow grave, covering it up with planks and pieces of tin. The ritual is 400 years old and is called Kuzhimatru or "Festival of the Pits". It's supposed to "propitiate the villiage deities". Propitiate means "appease" or "make nicey-nice with".

You know, when I piss off my God, usually I just have to say something meaningful and sincere like "Oh please, God! I'm sorry. You're right. You are the one true and holy God and I shalt place no Jagermeister before you. Now, if you could please make the room stop spinning. I can't take anymore sick days."

That usually works for a least a few days, though if I find out this Hindu ritual works better I might have to look into becoming a foster parent.

That has got to be one pissed off set of village deities that parents need go all Serpent and the Rainbow on their kids to make it right. Although that section of the world did just get whacked with a tsunami.

So, if it never rains in Southern California, what in the hell are those parents doing to their a kids?

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Fun with Science and Vodka

Oh My God It Burns

Scroll down to the science experiement. The one that shows you how to make something that allegedly tastes like Ketel One out of what may as well be Drano. Those people deserve the Nobel Prize for science. When I think of the tens of dollars I could've saved on vodka...man...

Now if they could only figure out a way to McGuyver single malt out of cheap scotch. I might never leave my house again.

Oh, and here's a game to play while you're enjoying your buzz and your newfound wealth after testing out the vodka experiement.

Meanwhile, I must go to bed. I have young minds to warp in the morning.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

So, tonight I've learned...

...that posting when inebriated is challenging.

I've also, probably because of my friend beer (tonight, a beverage called "Raison D'Etre" by these fine folks) spent more time looking at the wide variety of y'all that've hit the site than you might think I would've.

First - Thanks to anybody who's even hit this site for a second.

Next - Babelfish is a great tool.

Why?

To begin with, I appreciate documented evidence of copious alcohol abuse. It's nice to know my people are finding me. It's even better when it's in a foreign language: La Caverna.

I particularly enjoy the baby picture :

...I think I may have dated this baby...later...after the horror of Quiznos...



Anyhow, thanks for hitting the site.

Monday, April 11, 2005

Post Show Musings

Show went well. Yes.

Thanks to all the audience and comics (Daniella Capolino, Ken Reid, Kris Earle, Natasha Busse, Chris Nesmith, DannyCastro, Charlie Hatton, Danny Hirsch, Erin Judge, Yaq Andrews, Derek Gerry and Owen Bowness).

I need to remember to bring my damn recorder. I riffed on some some stuff about my job that had potential and now I need to remember what the hell I said. Grrr.

Next show is May 9.

Show at the Cantab Lounge - 8pm

And a cast of not quite thousands. Check it out:

Daniella Capolino
Robby Roadsteamer
Ken Reid
Kris Earle
Natasha Busse
Chris Nesmith
Daniel Domingo Castro
Travis Johns
Charlie Hatton
Danny Hirsch
Erin Judge
Mike Sullivan
Gail DiPalma
Yaq Andrews

Of course, as with the majority of the shows, we're scheduled on a day in which something else is happening in town (Red Sox's home opener). It's happening earlier in the day, so hopefully it won't suck too many away. If you're in town, please come check us out.

Cantab Lounge
738 Massachusetts Ave.
Cambridge

Show is at 8pm in the downstairs bar.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

"Sin City" and other Guilty Pleasures

I'm supposed to be writing quarterly progress reports right now. We're elbow deep in MCAS here. I'm more nervous about how the kids in my class do, I think, than the kids are.

Thoughts of late:

*Sin City!

Just caught that last night. Amazing movie. Tremendous. Most faithful comic book adaptation I've ever, ever seen. When I think of ways to try and describe how good the movie is, words fail me. The violence was so graphic, and yet stylized, that it felt almost decadent. I will be watching it again soon.

*Guilty pleasures

Cheap ass Pinot Grigio (like Bella Sera) with hot buttered, salty popcorn. Maybe a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese, too. The wine is very astringent, tart. But the butter and salt mellow the wine. This combination brings together two of my favorite things - booze and munchies, under the umbrella of cheap eats. Always a winner.

Champagne (of the better, say $25 and up, grade) and sushi. You heard me. I love sake as much as the next sushi lover, but a good brut champagne (I like Moet for this) compliments a wide range of sushi items. It is refreshing between bites of spicy tuna maki. Helps to cut the richness of unagi. I like it, especially with sashimi.

*Cantab Lounge

Next show is April 11 at 8 pm in the downstairs bar. Requests for spots have been rolling in. I'm looking forward to the show. I'm trying to put together a bunch of new stuff and hopefully will have the stones to actually try some (if not all) of it out. Hope to see folks there.