|random thoughts and thoroughbred selections|
|"All life is 6-5 against" - Damon Runyon|
Monday, August 13, 2007
Things I've Decided After Two Or Three Glasses of Spanish Red
After five days without TV (no cable, no local reception - I've watched ten episodes of The West Wing on DVD, and two hours of Tivo'd Travel Channel Anthony Bourdain shit, totaling roughly 8.5 hours), I think I could find a way to live without it permanently.
Then again, this conversation is a non-starter, considering that football season is upon us. Sorry Head.
I have also decided there isn't a more exciting five minutes of music than Booker Ervin and Eric Dolphy trading fours, twos, then ones on Mingus' at Antibes disc. I met a jazz flautist (no, really I did) the other day who hadn't heard the song which I'm speaking of, and I wanted to yell at him to pull his Herbie Fucking Mann blinders off and realize there was great motherfucking music made before Return to Forever dumbed it down (Pastoriusapologists need not enter my comments section) for the rest of us. Remind me to kick the Tower of Power in the collective nuts next time I run into them at the State Fair - they must be partially to blame here. Fucking Tom Malone.
On a third note, Spanish reds are nice - especially the ones grown in the grey slate soil. There's something about the absence of earthiness that brings all the other flavors to the forefront, and I, for one, am glad to have them there.
A few more things I've decided:
· I'm flying to a conference with a colleague a week from today, and am already debating which book to bring. I think I'm going to go with something politically oriented and somewhat dense, maybe my Neocon Reader (compiled by actual Neocons!), in order to further cultivate an image of a smug and superior asshole intent on advertising a perceived intelligence gap with said colleague. Not that I'm bitter this colleague got the job instead of me or anything. By the way, I'm itching to read Al Gore's The Assault on Reason, but nothing says "I'm an unapologetic liberal sheep who can't be bothered to dig deeper than what the party's politi-celebrities have to tell me than to publicly crack TAoR in order to look self-important" than reading Al's book on an airplane.
· THG, if you haven't been invited to the poker game next Friday (the 25th? Is that right? I can't be bothered to look it up.), call the little brother or email me for details.
· In what should be a surprise to no one, Frye cleaned the shit out of one of those veal shank bones last night. He gets the other one later this week.
· Last thing - best quote I've read today:
Welcome to the world of depression, Mr. Danko--welcome to where people are unable to run away from what troubles them. But I don't suppose you had any kind of death-wish yourself, did you? That you chose a slower, more socially acceptable, and less honest way than Richard to do the deed yourself is not something I'm going to overlook.
This has been another edition of "Things I've Decided After Two Or Three Glasses of Spanish Red."
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Things I've Decided After Two Or Three Manhattans
There aren't ten albums in the history of pop/rock music that are better than Paul Simon's Graceland.
This has been the very first edition of "Things I've Decided After Two Or Three Manhattans."
Live Video-Blogging My Dinner
I'll add more videos here as I make them. First, a look at my new apartment.
Here's part one - getting the ingredients together to cook.
It's a Gram Parsons kind of Sunday...
No cooking here, just tormenting my dog.
Getting the onions rolling.
Adding the wine.
How do you know when the alcohol has burned off?
Into the oven - I'll be back in 30-40 minutes (it's 255PM EST now) with an update on its progress.
So I'm bored. So what? Here's a five-and-a-half minute tour of my kitchen.
We hit the thirty minute mark, time to take a look and turn the shanks over.
MAJOR UPDATE: I just went to toss the frisbee with Frye, and on the way back in the hallway an above-average looking woman of my age stepped out of her apartment to say hi to me and the dog. Turns out, she has a corgi too (well, a corgi mix). And, as an extra added bonus, her above-average looking woman partner came to the door to say hello as well. Hurrah for above-average looking lesbians in my very apartment building! END UPDATE.
I mentioned buying plain couscous and making it your damn self. Here's how that works.
(that's it, no more updates - i'm eating)
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