Well, happy Independence Day, people. Just think, in perhaps three years we may be able to get excited about the country again. This year, we're off to Philadelphia to look at human anamolies and see a Swedish Argentinean folk singer. We hear Lionel Richie's doing a big Fourth of July concert on a bridge, but can we really stay excited all night long (all night)? Hello? Is it me you're looking for?
You be good. And safe. And fun. See you Wednesday.
6.30.2006
Give us back our candy!
We saw Strangers with Candy last night, and, while not completely terrible, it's certainly no "Dreams on the Rocks" or "To be Young, Gifted and Blank." Nowhere near. Which is about as hilarious as cancer.
To recover, we have been spending a few moments at this page, a marvelous compendium of the most memorable quotes and soundbytes from the three Comedy Central seasons of Strangers. Anyone for pizza? Or...well...enjoy!
To recover, we have been spending a few moments at this page, a marvelous compendium of the most memorable quotes and soundbytes from the three Comedy Central seasons of Strangers. Anyone for pizza? Or...well...enjoy!
Snooze patrol.
We get so much guff for our sick fascination with Clay Aiken that we'll respond to that by posting some Taylor Hicks news. Who's Taylor Hicks? He's the 63-year-old who just won American Idol. Remember? Anyway, apparently he told People magazine about a crush he had on a girl who he'll never forget. Well, the girl, Christy Lee Worsham, contacted People magazine two weeks after the story ran and said she was surprised she had made such an impact on him. She also said, "He was such a fun kid," Worsham, 32, said. "I'm married. But I'd like to reconnect." No shit.
Zzzzzzzzzzz. Come on, isn't this more exciting? Yes, it is.
Zzzzzzzzzzz. Come on, isn't this more exciting? Yes, it is.
The NB Science Corner.
For our first (and probably last (unless Lisa Whelchel decides to become a lab technician)) Science Corner feature, please enjoy this page that illustrates what happens when objects containing ferromagnetic materials get too close to the magnetic field of an MRI machine. No, of course we don't know what any of that scientifically means—we just like the idea of big metal things flying across a room and occasionally killing people. Well, not the killing people part. Well, kind of. J/k! Not really. Kidding!
The View from here.
We LOVES that Debbie Matenopoulos did get in on the Jones vs. Walters feud by going on Good Day L.A. and saying that Jones, who she claims she was good friends with when she appeared on The View, abandoned her after The View abandoned her (well, she didn't say that part about The View abandoning her, but come on). Our fave Matenopoulos quote from this article? That's easy: "It's called 'show business,' not show 'friends.'"
OK. We're going to run and see who's on The View right now. By the way, please take a drink every time we use "The View" in this post.
Please hold...
UM, OK, WHY IS STAR JONES ON THE VIEW RIGHT NOW?????????
Never mind. Pre-taped. (Awk-ward.) Oh well. The View. (At least we let you get one more drink in!)
OK. We're going to run and see who's on The View right now. By the way, please take a drink every time we use "The View" in this post.
Please hold...
UM, OK, WHY IS STAR JONES ON THE VIEW RIGHT NOW?????????
Never mind. Pre-taped. (Awk-ward.) Oh well. The View. (At least we let you get one more drink in!)
Lovingly maniacal.
We're going to start the day with a little nostaligia. Blogger and music critic Mark Blankenship (a friend of a friend, so be nice to him even if he hates your favorite band) recently posted a sort of tribute to our favorite band of all time, 10,000 Maniacs. There's really not much we can add to his post, because it's rare that 10,000 Maniacs get (or even ever got) much attention at all. We're just elated that he sees fit to recognize the band for its pretty spectacular output. The Maniacs recorded and performed from the early '80s until, well, now, except that the voice of 10,000 Maniacs, Natalie Merchant, exited the band in 1993, following the release of their Unplugged record. (For the record, in our opinion, which is the correct one, Merchant's solo stuff doesn't hold a Bendel Vanilla Bean candle to her Maniacs work.) He does call Our Time in Eden the band's masterpiece, which is incorrect (oh, snap!). 1985's In My Tribe is the band's shining moment—it includes "What's the Matter Here?", "Like the Weather," "Don't Talk," "Hey, Jack Kerouac," "Gun Shy," "My Sister Rose" and a personal favorite, "The Painted Desert." In My Tribe really defined the Maniacs unique mix of social commentary and melancholic celebration. All with a singular folk-pop sound. The 10,000 Maniacs folk-pop sound, if you will. And you will.
Anyway, anyway, anyway, go read Mark's post and relive the days you'll remember, never before and never again (R.I.P., Robert Buck)—the days of our old, dear friends, 10,000 Maniacs. Sniff.
ADDENDUM:
Longtime reader Tim wonders why there's no mention of 1985's The Wishing Chair either on our post or on Mark's. Good question, Tim, and thanks for asking. We can't speak for Mark, but we left it out because we're lazy. The Wishing Chair truly is another incredible Maniacs record (though the group still included member John Lombardo at that point) and is definitely the record that bridged the band's more punk-rock-folk-reggae college sound to the more focused folk-pop sound they'd come to be known (or not known) for. It is a varied effort, for sure, but one that newly rewards the enthusiast upon each listen. (Can you believe we just actually wrote that last sentence? Hi-larious.)
Anyway, anyway, anyway, go read Mark's post and relive the days you'll remember, never before and never again (R.I.P., Robert Buck)—the days of our old, dear friends, 10,000 Maniacs. Sniff.
ADDENDUM:
Longtime reader Tim wonders why there's no mention of 1985's The Wishing Chair either on our post or on Mark's. Good question, Tim, and thanks for asking. We can't speak for Mark, but we left it out because we're lazy. The Wishing Chair truly is another incredible Maniacs record (though the group still included member John Lombardo at that point) and is definitely the record that bridged the band's more punk-rock-folk-reggae college sound to the more focused folk-pop sound they'd come to be known (or not known) for. It is a varied effort, for sure, but one that newly rewards the enthusiast upon each listen. (Can you believe we just actually wrote that last sentence? Hi-larious.)
6.29.2006
Your video clip of the day.
Ed. note: It's a long one but totally worth it in a watching-half-is-probably-enough kind of way.
Ed. note update: Watch it all.
Ed. note update: Watch it all.
Say cheese.
Sorry we've been out of touch today. We've been helping with flood relief efforts in D.C. And by "helping with flood relief efforts in D.C.," we mean "crocheting a kitten tea cozy for our lesbian cousin Joice." Anyway, because we never cater to sports fans on this site, we thought today would be a good day to throw them a bone. Why? Because of these totally awkward NBA draft portraits. Touchdown! (That's basketball, right?)
Yet more breaking non-news.
There's a random black woman on The View. Right now she's being forced to listen to the Survivor girl try to interview Al Gore. And, no, unfortunately it's not Mo'nique.
Hear evil, see evil.
Just so you know, Star Jones WILL appear on Larry King Live tonight. So, rather than just one, there will be two terrifying people not listening to anything the other is saying. Set your DVRs for 9 p.m. sharp!
Oh, here's the clip, via TVGasm, from yesterday's The View where Barbara helpfully explains just what the heck happened with Star. For the one of you who hasn't seen it. Or cares.
Oh, here's the clip, via TVGasm, from yesterday's The View where Barbara helpfully explains just what the heck happened with Star. For the one of you who hasn't seen it. Or cares.
6.28.2006
Well, something's gonna rise again.
As discovered this morning on Datalounge, one of the most amazing prom moments in the history of the South*.
*You can peruse the gallery for something better, but you're not gonna find it, haus.
*You can peruse the gallery for something better, but you're not gonna find it, haus.
Habit building.
Hey! Guess what! This week's design for the Freedom Tower was just unveiled! It now looks more like a syringe than ever. Just what NYC needs—a giant drug paraphrenalia icon. Good work, Skidmore, Owings and Merrill. Good work.
Hey, you know what? Why don't you just go with our original idea and build a water park down there. Man, it's hot outside and you know what kind of relief a water park would provide!? Kids would love it. AND, when have you ever heard of a plane flying into a water park? Never. Total bonus.
Hey, you know what? Why don't you just go with our original idea and build a water park down there. Man, it's hot outside and you know what kind of relief a water park would provide!? Kids would love it. AND, when have you ever heard of a plane flying into a water park? Never. Total bonus.
Lady sings the bruise.
Via the delectable Goldenfiddle, this bit of Hasselhoff news. No, no, no—not David Hasselhoff! We'd never do that to you. The wife. Estranged wife. Her. You know, the one who's gonna recording an album about getting beaten.
(NO IMAGE FOUND)
(NO IMAGE FOUND)
Run that unit bias again.
OK.
#1.) The fact that this was officially researched makes us insane.
#2.) The fact that a term such as "unit bias" resulted in this research makes us insaner.
#3.) The fact that we could have told these assholes that the reason why larger portions cause people to eat more is because when we were kids mom insisted we finish the food no matter how much or how little of it on our plates makes us insanest.
People, sometimes science is simply common sense (and, yes, you can quote us on that). Now how about doing some frickin' research on why grandma can spot from across the table a .34 decimeter-sized piece of chicken on our plate after we've told her 18 times it's just bone?
#1.) The fact that this was officially researched makes us insane.
#2.) The fact that a term such as "unit bias" resulted in this research makes us insaner.
#3.) The fact that we could have told these assholes that the reason why larger portions cause people to eat more is because when we were kids mom insisted we finish the food no matter how much or how little of it on our plates makes us insanest.
People, sometimes science is simply common sense (and, yes, you can quote us on that). Now how about doing some frickin' research on why grandma can spot from across the table a .34 decimeter-sized piece of chicken on our plate after we've told her 18 times it's just bone?
Amy, man.
Here's the Onion A.V. Club's interview with Amy Sedaris (in case you haven't read the 493 others currently out now). We haven't seen the Strangers with Candy movie, but we're going to go ahead and give it two stars as we're pretty confident that's what it'll rate. Faggot.
More breaking non-news.
Game ovah.
Is your sig other playin' you for a fool all sayin' he's callin' from a boat when you knows he's scareds of waters? Well, not no more! (Thanks, Zach!)
6.27.2006
6.26.2006
The Coffee Talk Companion: "Sarah, Plain."
In this week's thrilling episode of Coffee Talk, Lisa introduces us to one of her BFFs, Sarah. But not before reminding us for the Christteenth time that she has three teenagers:
I have three teenagers, therefore, I'm immersed in hormones, and relationship fissures, and daily life-altering drama.
"I'm immersed in hormones." Wow. The kicker is she then manages to repulse us even more...
You, on the other hand, may be drowning in dinner dishes, and Dora & Diego, and doodie diapers (and other duties.)
Nice. Though we'd have spelled "doodie," "doody." Right?
Anyway, onto Sarah, the latest Whelchel friend/relative to be involuntarily exposed via the wiretap that is Coffee Talk...
I met Sarah when I moved to Texas almost three years ago. Her husband was the Student pastor at our church. I could tell I was going to like this girl right away so I immediately invited her to be a charter member of my new Lone Star state MomTime group.
Ooooh. A charter member. Lucky Sarah. So, Whelchel moves to Sarah's town, yet Sarah is the one finding herself indoctrinated into a lunatic cult.
Er, how did Sarah feel about that?
I just love Sarah, and I know you will, too.
Right, right, right. It's a cult. We'll have to trust the leader, as Sarah is not allowed to speak. Well, unless she's allowed to speak. Which, unfortunately for us and for this site, this week she is...
That is why I called her a few weeks ago and asked her if she would consider writing for me occasionally from the perspective of a mom in the toddler trenches. Unbeknownst to me, it just so happened, (don't you love it when God puts something together and you thought it was your idea,) Sarah had just begun blogging her mommy journey.
We're thrilled that God is apparently the Nick Denton of mom blogs, but we're pretty disappointed at what we feel is a continued move to laziness on Lisa's part. (For the beginning of this unfortunate downslide, please refer to last week's Coffee Talk Companion.) We have been known to post up to 10 times a day here, Whelchel. Is once a week really that much? Do we need to send you on a silent fasting retreat? And no dog this time!
Perfect! So, for those of you who want to leave me for a younger mother then you will want to check out Sarah’s blog, "In the Midst."
She's obviously not listening to us. And the only person we'd leave Lisa for is Casey. In fact, why can't Casey be the guest contributor instead of this whore, Sarah? (See, this Sarah business is so unnerving that we've been forced to sink to the random and unjustified use of "whore.")
If you really don't have time to read one more thing, then rest easy, I plan to share more of Sarah's mommy musings in the future. So, without further ado, my friend, my "mini-me," my favorite library card holder, Sarah!
For fuck's sake. You know, we do do our "best" to entertain, but there is just no way we are going to comment on Lisa Whelchel's "mini-me'"s (???) Coffee Talk contribution. We thought about it for .03 second. But no. Nuh way. Uh uh. Nope. Sarah was not on one of our favorite '80s TV shows. Sarah did not amusingly become a born-again Christian after finishing said TV show. And Sarah does not have a Casey. She only has a Pace.
Yes, it's also gayish, but, no, it's no Casey.
Here's this week's thing. Lisa, you've deprived us and our readers this week of the one reason both our and your site is barely worth reading. Yes, we take the good, but this is just too bad for us to take (sorry—we forgot to use it last week, so we figured we'd really force it in here this time).
Hence, we're going to have to skip Sarah entirely and go to Lisa's biting final words...
Don't ya' just love her?
No, Lisa, we don't. And, truth be told? We kind of hate you right now, too.
I have three teenagers, therefore, I'm immersed in hormones, and relationship fissures, and daily life-altering drama.
"I'm immersed in hormones." Wow. The kicker is she then manages to repulse us even more...
You, on the other hand, may be drowning in dinner dishes, and Dora & Diego, and doodie diapers (and other duties.)
Nice. Though we'd have spelled "doodie," "doody." Right?
Anyway, onto Sarah, the latest Whelchel friend/relative to be involuntarily exposed via the wiretap that is Coffee Talk...
I met Sarah when I moved to Texas almost three years ago. Her husband was the Student pastor at our church. I could tell I was going to like this girl right away so I immediately invited her to be a charter member of my new Lone Star state MomTime group.
Ooooh. A charter member. Lucky Sarah. So, Whelchel moves to Sarah's town, yet Sarah is the one finding herself indoctrinated into a lunatic cult.
Er, how did Sarah feel about that?
I just love Sarah, and I know you will, too.
Right, right, right. It's a cult. We'll have to trust the leader, as Sarah is not allowed to speak. Well, unless she's allowed to speak. Which, unfortunately for us and for this site, this week she is...
That is why I called her a few weeks ago and asked her if she would consider writing for me occasionally from the perspective of a mom in the toddler trenches. Unbeknownst to me, it just so happened, (don't you love it when God puts something together and you thought it was your idea,) Sarah had just begun blogging her mommy journey.
We're thrilled that God is apparently the Nick Denton of mom blogs, but we're pretty disappointed at what we feel is a continued move to laziness on Lisa's part. (For the beginning of this unfortunate downslide, please refer to last week's Coffee Talk Companion.) We have been known to post up to 10 times a day here, Whelchel. Is once a week really that much? Do we need to send you on a silent fasting retreat? And no dog this time!
Perfect! So, for those of you who want to leave me for a younger mother then you will want to check out Sarah’s blog, "In the Midst."
She's obviously not listening to us. And the only person we'd leave Lisa for is Casey. In fact, why can't Casey be the guest contributor instead of this whore, Sarah? (See, this Sarah business is so unnerving that we've been forced to sink to the random and unjustified use of "whore.")
If you really don't have time to read one more thing, then rest easy, I plan to share more of Sarah's mommy musings in the future. So, without further ado, my friend, my "mini-me," my favorite library card holder, Sarah!
For fuck's sake. You know, we do do our "best" to entertain, but there is just no way we are going to comment on Lisa Whelchel's "mini-me'"s (???) Coffee Talk contribution. We thought about it for .03 second. But no. Nuh way. Uh uh. Nope. Sarah was not on one of our favorite '80s TV shows. Sarah did not amusingly become a born-again Christian after finishing said TV show. And Sarah does not have a Casey. She only has a Pace.
Yes, it's also gayish, but, no, it's no Casey.
Here's this week's thing. Lisa, you've deprived us and our readers this week of the one reason both our and your site is barely worth reading. Yes, we take the good, but this is just too bad for us to take (sorry—we forgot to use it last week, so we figured we'd really force it in here this time).
Hence, we're going to have to skip Sarah entirely and go to Lisa's biting final words...
Don't ya' just love her?
No, Lisa, we don't. And, truth be told? We kind of hate you right now, too.
Food deplorium.
In our quest to make sure NYC stays at the top of the courteous city list, we want to encourage anyone who may have shopped at the 12 food stores listed below to go ahead and call that ambulance now.
Rodriguez Meat Market
571 E 184th St.
Bronx, NY 10458
African Market
540-544 Faile St.
Bronx, NY 10474
Noah Products
322 Ditmas Ave
Brooklyn, NY 11218
Genesis Deli Grocery
3210 Fulton St.
Brooklyn, NY 11208
1370 Rockaway Food
1370 Rockaway Pkwy
Brooklyn, NY 11236
Rite Aid Pharmacy 04688
1849 2nd Ave
New York, NY 10128
American Fu Zhou Grocery
101 East Broadway
New York, NY 10002
Associated
255 W 14 th Street
New York, NY 10011
Global Commodities
14-50A 118th St.
College Point, NY 11356
King Food Farm
71-10 37th Ave
Jackson Heights, NY 11372
Golden Town Supermarket
35-16 Junction Blvd.
Corona, NY 11368
K MART 3201
2660 Hylan Blvd
Staten Island, NY 10306
To read the full downloadable report on these NYC-area "Dirty Dozen" supermarkets, click here and scroll to the bottom of the page. It's the perfect way to start that summer diet!
Rodriguez Meat Market
571 E 184th St.
Bronx, NY 10458
African Market
540-544 Faile St.
Bronx, NY 10474
Noah Products
322 Ditmas Ave
Brooklyn, NY 11218
Genesis Deli Grocery
3210 Fulton St.
Brooklyn, NY 11208
1370 Rockaway Food
1370 Rockaway Pkwy
Brooklyn, NY 11236
Rite Aid Pharmacy 04688
1849 2nd Ave
New York, NY 10128
American Fu Zhou Grocery
101 East Broadway
New York, NY 10002
Associated
255 W 14 th Street
New York, NY 10011
Global Commodities
14-50A 118th St.
College Point, NY 11356
King Food Farm
71-10 37th Ave
Jackson Heights, NY 11372
Golden Town Supermarket
35-16 Junction Blvd.
Corona, NY 11368
K MART 3201
2660 Hylan Blvd
Staten Island, NY 10306
To read the full downloadable report on these NYC-area "Dirty Dozen" supermarkets, click here and scroll to the bottom of the page. It's the perfect way to start that summer diet!
NYC ya real soon!
Thank you! We've always said our city was a kind and generous one, despite its reputation, and we now have the evidence to prove it. So what if it's rat-infested and generally completely filthy? We throw our trash on the ground with smiles on our faces and love in our hearts. And, no, we don't have time to tell you how to get to Radio fucking City. Why don't you ask that one cop guarding Penn Station?
Rice on sushi.
Because we're deundercapacitated, devoted reader and usually drunk Michelle has been kind enough to send us some weird Japanese shit for sale on eBay. Enjoy!
Cat Banana Pancake!
Fake Food Potato!
Phone Strap!
Ice Cream Phone Strap!
Rice on Potato!
Cat Banana Pancake!
Fake Food Potato!
Phone Strap!
Ice Cream Phone Strap!
Rice on Potato!
Good ship come and gone.
Folks, we are observing a moment of silence (that could last anywhere from two minutes to two weeks) for the loss of the beloved Patsy Ramsey. Please bear with us in this time of great sadness. Thanx.
6.22.2006
You'll be thrilled to know...
Aerosmith and Motley Crüe are teaming up for a fall tour...
Hulk Hogan's house is up for sale...
And because of our upcoming HUGE night ("The Next Big Broadway Musical!" was Time Out New York's comedy pick for Friday night. Just saying.), we're taking tomorrow off. Officially. Not like those other days where we just don't post.
Please have a good weekend, and, if you're in NYC, remember the Pride Parade is on Sunday, so we suggest traveling to the polar opposite of Manhattan. (We tried to locate NYC's actual polar opposite, but it was taking longer than 24 seconds, so we stopped. It's probably water.)
All in all...
ENJOYS!
Hulk Hogan's house is up for sale...
And because of our upcoming HUGE night ("The Next Big Broadway Musical!" was Time Out New York's comedy pick for Friday night. Just saying.), we're taking tomorrow off. Officially. Not like those other days where we just don't post.
Please have a good weekend, and, if you're in NYC, remember the Pride Parade is on Sunday, so we suggest traveling to the polar opposite of Manhattan. (We tried to locate NYC's actual polar opposite, but it was taking longer than 24 seconds, so we stopped. It's probably water.)
All in all...
ENJOYS!
Anthony Federov = gay gay gay.
OK. Now we just want to be annoying.
Probably our third-most commented-on post is the one where we gracefully implied that American Idol reject Anthony Federov is gay. It's a good time if you've never visited it. Here's the link.
So today we found this. It's Anthony shirtless on Fear Factor...
Not so bad if you ignore the Degenerish face, right?
Whatever. We clearly don't give a shit about any of this. We only post because a.) we're astonished that Anthony Federov is still alive and b.) we want to call him gay again just to see if we can get some more good comments.
So...
The screen capture of Anthony Federov above is just about as gay as someone in a periwinkle tank-top and riding a horse.
Let's see what happens...
Probably our third-most commented-on post is the one where we gracefully implied that American Idol reject Anthony Federov is gay. It's a good time if you've never visited it. Here's the link.
So today we found this. It's Anthony shirtless on Fear Factor...
Not so bad if you ignore the Degenerish face, right?
Whatever. We clearly don't give a shit about any of this. We only post because a.) we're astonished that Anthony Federov is still alive and b.) we want to call him gay again just to see if we can get some more good comments.
So...
The screen capture of Anthony Federov above is just about as gay as someone in a periwinkle tank-top and riding a horse.
Let's see what happens...
Crap-up.
Here's some crap we're way behind on...
The new Project Runway cast has been announced. This marks the first time Project Runway will be Daniel Franco-less from the beginning. Needless to say, we are very excited (kisses, Tim Gunn!)...
The Coreys...
And some JT, who's now single. And he'll have you naked by the end of this post...
The new Project Runway cast has been announced. This marks the first time Project Runway will be Daniel Franco-less from the beginning. Needless to say, we are very excited (kisses, Tim Gunn!)...
The Coreys...
And some JT, who's now single. And he'll have you naked by the end of this post...
Superass.
Oh, fine. We'll just give you what you want. Our friend to the north Frank has posted a link to a video of TV's Superman and male Cillian Murphy, Tom Welling, naked. We give you permission to take a break from creating lists of movies and check this out. But be sure to come ba...oh, never mind.
Picture this.
Here's something fun to waste a few hours:
YMDb.com
Once there, you can create a list of your top 20 favorite movies which other users can then comment on. We did. And then we got comments, excerpts of which we'll now post on our crappy blog so we can comment back:
"Just a great set of picks."
Why, thank you, Christopher Wang.
"I wasn's that impressed by Nashville either, but maybe i should watch it again one of these days."
Yes, you should. It's the best American movie ever made. And never, ever say "one of these days" again.
"Good variety; could just do with touch of Mizoguchi!"
Mizoguchi, huh? Let's see... Sansho the Bailiff. We've heard of it. Summary? According to IMDb, "In medieval Japan a compassionate governor is sent into exile. His wife and children try to join him, but are separated, and the children grow up amid suffering and oppression." Um, sorry, but we lived this. No need for us to watch it unfold in glorious black and white on our high-definition flatscreen TV that was made for movies in color. Jesus.
See? Comments like that. Fun, huh?
Anyway, go make a list. If you start now it'll be about 2:13 before you're completely bored out of your mind again.
YMDb.com
Once there, you can create a list of your top 20 favorite movies which other users can then comment on. We did. And then we got comments, excerpts of which we'll now post on our crappy blog so we can comment back:
"Just a great set of picks."
Why, thank you, Christopher Wang.
"I wasn's that impressed by Nashville either, but maybe i should watch it again one of these days."
Yes, you should. It's the best American movie ever made. And never, ever say "one of these days" again.
"Good variety; could just do with touch of Mizoguchi!"
Mizoguchi, huh? Let's see... Sansho the Bailiff. We've heard of it. Summary? According to IMDb, "In medieval Japan a compassionate governor is sent into exile. His wife and children try to join him, but are separated, and the children grow up amid suffering and oppression." Um, sorry, but we lived this. No need for us to watch it unfold in glorious black and white on our high-definition flatscreen TV that was made for movies in color. Jesus.
See? Comments like that. Fun, huh?
Anyway, go make a list. If you start now it'll be about 2:13 before you're completely bored out of your mind again.
Tips o' the mornin to ya!
Today, the NB would like to share a few tips that recently have been brought to its attention...
7 things not to do during perhaps the most important interview of your life:
1.) Discuss every single item on your mind's "Whatever You Do, Do Not Discuss These Items" list.
2.) Misunderstand two of the four questions being asked.
3.) Smile uncontrollably, maniacally, even (because you don't exactly know what's being asked of you).
4.) Repeat for the ninetieth time how exciting an opportunity this is (because you don't exactly know what else to say).
5.) Say you're from Florida.
6.) Wear the "magic tie" that stops straight men in their tracks (and did, once again, pre-interview) but has no effect on women, two of whom are interviewing you.
7.) Suddenly scream out, "Aw, me nuts!" (Fine, that didn't happen, but we kind of wish it did, just so we'd have a story. Besides, it is a good tip.)
So, there you go. The NB does care about you and your future. Take these tips and make of them what you will. But the next time you get that job or loan or co-op, send a little love our way, won't ya?
7 things not to do during perhaps the most important interview of your life:
1.) Discuss every single item on your mind's "Whatever You Do, Do Not Discuss These Items" list.
2.) Misunderstand two of the four questions being asked.
3.) Smile uncontrollably, maniacally, even (because you don't exactly know what's being asked of you).
4.) Repeat for the ninetieth time how exciting an opportunity this is (because you don't exactly know what else to say).
5.) Say you're from Florida.
6.) Wear the "magic tie" that stops straight men in their tracks (and did, once again, pre-interview) but has no effect on women, two of whom are interviewing you.
7.) Suddenly scream out, "Aw, me nuts!" (Fine, that didn't happen, but we kind of wish it did, just so we'd have a story. Besides, it is a good tip.)
So, there you go. The NB does care about you and your future. Take these tips and make of them what you will. But the next time you get that job or loan or co-op, send a little love our way, won't ya?
6.21.2006
Showtime.
Folks, today is a doozy. Between recovering from embedding ourselves in Lisa Whelchel's life and preparing for some upcoming events, we're going to have to take it easy. So, please allow this space to be used for utterly shameless self-promotion. We promise not to let this happen again. This week.
Carrying on...
Because your beloved NB editor has played the piano since he was a foetus, he occasionally shares his magical talent with the public. This Friday night marks the opportunity to hear him play not one but TWO shows. In a row! Holy Lisa Whelchel's Bible!
The first show occurs this Friday, June 23 at 8 p.m. and marks the beginning of the seventh year of New York City's original, award-nominated, fully improvised musical, The Next Big Broadway Musical! (Don't be scared by "improvised." You would never, ever be sent to a show that we didn't feel was worth sending you to. And, there's no audience participation. Only audience suggestion. Read on.) In the first act of the show, the audience suggests original song titles for five "Best Musical" nominees. Once all are presented, the audience votes on the song it enjoyed most, and that song is the basis for an entire musical in act two. It's a hoot. And there's booze. And a rilly hot pianist.
The Next Big Broadway Musical! will run for 8 Fridays at 8 p.m. at Don't Tell Mama at 343 W. 43rd St. in Midtown Manhattan. Tickets are $15 plus two drinks and reservations can be made by calling 212.757.0788 after 4 p.m. All the exciting information and more fun stuffs can be found by clicking HERE!
THEN...
At 11 p.m. this Friday night, following the show we just told you about and in honor of the beginning of NYC Gay Pride (sorry), we will be performing for one last time the award-nominated revue we wrote with award-nominated singer/songwriter Michael Conley entitled Hello, Boys! If you hate cabaret shows, we urge you to join us for a naughty night of original anti-cabaret. Besides, you're familiar with the mediocre quality of the words we write here—why not come hear the mediocre music we compose? Until you've seen this show, you're really missing out on the full spectrum of our aptness.
Hello, Boys! will also take place at Don't Tell Mama. Tickets are $10 plus two drinks and reservations can also be made by calling 212.757.0788. For more information, including exciting reviews, click HERE!
People, you now have so many chances to see a.) our fingers bleed, b.) us break a piano string (which is more exciting than you might imagine) or c.) both. Come on out to Midtown on Friday and say hellos and see some shows!
Carrying on...
Because your beloved NB editor has played the piano since he was a foetus, he occasionally shares his magical talent with the public. This Friday night marks the opportunity to hear him play not one but TWO shows. In a row! Holy Lisa Whelchel's Bible!
The first show occurs this Friday, June 23 at 8 p.m. and marks the beginning of the seventh year of New York City's original, award-nominated, fully improvised musical, The Next Big Broadway Musical! (Don't be scared by "improvised." You would never, ever be sent to a show that we didn't feel was worth sending you to. And, there's no audience participation. Only audience suggestion. Read on.) In the first act of the show, the audience suggests original song titles for five "Best Musical" nominees. Once all are presented, the audience votes on the song it enjoyed most, and that song is the basis for an entire musical in act two. It's a hoot. And there's booze. And a rilly hot pianist.
The Next Big Broadway Musical! will run for 8 Fridays at 8 p.m. at Don't Tell Mama at 343 W. 43rd St. in Midtown Manhattan. Tickets are $15 plus two drinks and reservations can be made by calling 212.757.0788 after 4 p.m. All the exciting information and more fun stuffs can be found by clicking HERE!
THEN...
At 11 p.m. this Friday night, following the show we just told you about and in honor of the beginning of NYC Gay Pride (sorry), we will be performing for one last time the award-nominated revue we wrote with award-nominated singer/songwriter Michael Conley entitled Hello, Boys! If you hate cabaret shows, we urge you to join us for a naughty night of original anti-cabaret. Besides, you're familiar with the mediocre quality of the words we write here—why not come hear the mediocre music we compose? Until you've seen this show, you're really missing out on the full spectrum of our aptness.
Hello, Boys! will also take place at Don't Tell Mama. Tickets are $10 plus two drinks and reservations can also be made by calling 212.757.0788. For more information, including exciting reviews, click HERE!
People, you now have so many chances to see a.) our fingers bleed, b.) us break a piano string (which is more exciting than you might imagine) or c.) both. Come on out to Midtown on Friday and say hellos and see some shows!
6.20.2006
The Coffee Talk Companion: "My Meal Belongs to Daddy."
Before we begin, we'd just like to say that should you search "Lisa Whelchel Coffee Talk" on Google, this very site will come up as result number 2 following Lisa Whelchel's own site. So, thank you, public, for noticing our important work. Carrying on...
This week, Lisa leaves home for a three-day silent retreat, much to what we have to imagine would be the chagrin of Clancy, Haven and Tucker, who'd probably kill for three days of shut-mouth from mom.
Anyway, let's let a re-non-silent Whelchel explain:
Many months ago, when I was reading Bob Sorge’s book, “Secrets of the Secret Place” (the first time through,) my heart leapt with excitement when I read his chapter on the importance of retreats. As soon as I finished my morning devotions, I looked ahead on my calendar and planned a three-day, silent retreat, like he suggested in the book. I couldn’t wait to get away from everything, with only my Bible and a case of bottled water, to hear from God and grow closer to Him.
Ah. So this Bob Sorge encourages silent fasting retreats. A retr-non-eat, if you will. (We just sent that in to be copyrighted, so don't even think about it, Sorge.) To get in touch with God, for which Lisa brought her Bible. But honestly, we have to imagine Bible or no Bible, after three days of non-eating, God's gonna be pushed down the "To call" list beneath Dominos. Oh, and another thing—fuck you to everyone who enourages fasting. Not because we likes to eat and would shove 3,249 Hershey's Kisses in our mouth at one time if given the opportunity. No, it's because it's fucking unhealthy. A body shouldn't suddenly be deprived of food after growing accustomed daily to, in an average American's day, 5,309 calories. It's just not right. You hear us, Jews? Yom Kippur? Not cool.
Last week, the day finally arrived. I packed up my van, with my dog, (I figured this didn’t negate the whole “silent” retreat thing,) a small bag with some comfy sweats, no make-up bag, and my favorite pillows. I drove to the border of Oklahoma to a friend’s ranch where I often go to write.
OK, so she broke one rule already. She brought the dog. The dog doesn't know what the fuck is going on, so we're going to imagine it barked at least once, negating the entire "silent" experience. And everyone knows if a dog is not happy, the owner is going to try to comfort it by speaking to it (unless it's a Chinese restaurant, in which case it's going to be delicious). So, we have to imagine Lisa spoke, too. We'll downgrade this silent fasting retreat right now to "fasting retreat."
I arrived late in the morning and snuggled up on the couch with my Bible. My plan was to read through the “Harmony of the Gospels.” Basically, this just means reading through all four gospels, combined into one, in chronological order with some stories repeated a few times.
Wait, wait, wait. Wait. The Harmony of the Gospels? Quoi??? Um, Whelchel, you talk up the Bible like nobody's business. When you bring a Bible somewhere where you have nothing else to do but drink water and quiet a scared puppy, we expect you to read the whole thing. We can't imagine God was too thrilled with this act.
I was miserable!
Uh huh.
I’ve gone on three-day fasts before, but I always drank LOTS of fresh juice. This time I decided to drink only bottled water. Oh my goodness, I was weak as a puppy.
We imagine at this point she was just seeing the puppy she decided to bring along and thought she was actually the puppy. Which is another reason you shouldn't bring a dog on a silent fasting retreat.
I could hardly stay out of bed, barely finding time to read my Bible in between naps. And forget about praying, or worshiping. That would take way too much energy.
Oy. All complaints from this one. We have to wonder here, does Bob Sorge trump God in this situation? Clearly, Lisa lives her life by the gospels (or the Reader's Digest version), but Bob Sorge's request, nay, insistence that this retreat involve fasting is making it impossible for her to communicate with God, which is basically her lifeblood. And not only that, the purpose for this retreat was so she could commune with God more easily. Is it just us, or is the blatant illogic of the situation not abundantly clear?
So you don't kill yourself, and so we can move on, here are the retreat highlights. Fine, highlight:
I tossed and turned all night long, with weird dreams, none of them from God!
Coffee Talk aficionados will realize this is the third week in a row Whelchel drops an unqualified "weird" in her rantings. Again, so not fair to us. Though, this week, it's almost atoned for by this glorious passage:
Did I mention how much I missed my morning coffee? I’m in love with coffee – I think I’ll marry it.
Hilarious, Lisa. For real. We love when the human trapped inside the Godshell makes a cameo. Unfortunately, the Godshell was still trapped inside the retreat and wanted out. Badly.
About 3 o’clock in the afternoon I said out loud, “Okay, Uncle! I give up. I can’t do this. This is too hard. I want to go home. I miss my family. I’m bored out of my gourd! Even so, Lord, you know I won’t give up. I will stay here for the full three days. But, it would be really nice if you would show up. I just don’t have the energy to seek You and find You. Will you please come get me?”
We can't decide if we heart "Okay, Uncle!" or "I'm bored out my gourd!" more. Hmmm. We'll give the edge to "Okay, Uncle!" because of her actual addressing of an uncle in her attempt at the familiar "to cry uncle."
Any-fuckin'-way, she is eventually relieved...
A couple of hours later I received a phone call from my cousin. (I was only supposed to have one phone call a day but I had cheated a bit on this one.)
No wonder God wasn't calling. A.)Her cousin was hogging the phone line and B.) Clearly he had taken up with someone who was doing the silent, fasting, non-canine retreat correctly.
It was so weird, I had just been praying for my cousins and aunts and uncles that morning. So, I told Tammy that when she called. She went on to say, “Well, I’m sorry that we never get to talk and the only time we do it has to be because of bad news. They took your daddy to the hospital last night and no one has been able to reach you until now.”
"Weird" again. She means "coincidental" here. What's actually "weird" is that she claims she's been praying for scads of people when earlier she wrote that she didn't have energy to do anything during the retreat. At this point, like us, God got completely fed up. Which is clearly why he sent Lisa's dad to the hospital. Right before Father's Day.
I immediately jumped up, grabbed a stale jar of nuts in the pantry, tipped it back, and guzzled it down like it was a soda. Then I threw my stuff in the bag, grabbed my dog, and headed to the hospital, stopping only long enough to grab a sandwich and a drink at Chick-fil-a.
This is why we love our Lisa. Well, two reasons. The "in-the-moment" reason, where she actually stops at a Chick-fil-a before going to see her father in the hospital, and the "meta" reason where she includes in her recollection of an extremely frantic moment the name of the chain restaurant she actually stopped at before going to see her father in the hospital. Oh, yes, it's also totally priceless that she spelled "Chick-fil-a" correctly.
Turns out the father's fine, so, of course, it's back to being about Lisa Lisa Lisa...
For starters, I will either take plenty of juice with me for a shorter retreat or I will go on a longer retreat and not count on doing anything until about the third day when my body adjusts.
Or until the contraband dog fucking blows its brains out from boredom. Speaking of which, the rest of the Coffee Talk entry is a note Lisa wrote to her daddy. It lists poignant reasons why she is thankful for him, the best one being...
I never had to worry as a child. It never crossed my mind to thank you for a safe home, plenty of food, family vacations, a trip to Sears for school clothes and a trip to K-Mart for summer wear. I always had everything I needed because of you.
"Sears," "K-Mart" and "summer wear." A trifecta of Whelchel magicness.
It wraps up with...
...of your love for Jesus. Anytime you come to church with me, or whenever I pray with you, or even just talk about the Lord, you always get teary-eyed. I know Jesus knows how much you love Him deep down inside. But mostly because…
OK. UNCLE!
This week, Lisa leaves home for a three-day silent retreat, much to what we have to imagine would be the chagrin of Clancy, Haven and Tucker, who'd probably kill for three days of shut-mouth from mom.
Anyway, let's let a re-non-silent Whelchel explain:
Many months ago, when I was reading Bob Sorge’s book, “Secrets of the Secret Place” (the first time through,) my heart leapt with excitement when I read his chapter on the importance of retreats. As soon as I finished my morning devotions, I looked ahead on my calendar and planned a three-day, silent retreat, like he suggested in the book. I couldn’t wait to get away from everything, with only my Bible and a case of bottled water, to hear from God and grow closer to Him.
Ah. So this Bob Sorge encourages silent fasting retreats. A retr-non-eat, if you will. (We just sent that in to be copyrighted, so don't even think about it, Sorge.) To get in touch with God, for which Lisa brought her Bible. But honestly, we have to imagine Bible or no Bible, after three days of non-eating, God's gonna be pushed down the "To call" list beneath Dominos. Oh, and another thing—fuck you to everyone who enourages fasting. Not because we likes to eat and would shove 3,249 Hershey's Kisses in our mouth at one time if given the opportunity. No, it's because it's fucking unhealthy. A body shouldn't suddenly be deprived of food after growing accustomed daily to, in an average American's day, 5,309 calories. It's just not right. You hear us, Jews? Yom Kippur? Not cool.
Last week, the day finally arrived. I packed up my van, with my dog, (I figured this didn’t negate the whole “silent” retreat thing,) a small bag with some comfy sweats, no make-up bag, and my favorite pillows. I drove to the border of Oklahoma to a friend’s ranch where I often go to write.
OK, so she broke one rule already. She brought the dog. The dog doesn't know what the fuck is going on, so we're going to imagine it barked at least once, negating the entire "silent" experience. And everyone knows if a dog is not happy, the owner is going to try to comfort it by speaking to it (unless it's a Chinese restaurant, in which case it's going to be delicious). So, we have to imagine Lisa spoke, too. We'll downgrade this silent fasting retreat right now to "fasting retreat."
I arrived late in the morning and snuggled up on the couch with my Bible. My plan was to read through the “Harmony of the Gospels.” Basically, this just means reading through all four gospels, combined into one, in chronological order with some stories repeated a few times.
Wait, wait, wait. Wait. The Harmony of the Gospels? Quoi??? Um, Whelchel, you talk up the Bible like nobody's business. When you bring a Bible somewhere where you have nothing else to do but drink water and quiet a scared puppy, we expect you to read the whole thing. We can't imagine God was too thrilled with this act.
I was miserable!
Uh huh.
I’ve gone on three-day fasts before, but I always drank LOTS of fresh juice. This time I decided to drink only bottled water. Oh my goodness, I was weak as a puppy.
We imagine at this point she was just seeing the puppy she decided to bring along and thought she was actually the puppy. Which is another reason you shouldn't bring a dog on a silent fasting retreat.
I could hardly stay out of bed, barely finding time to read my Bible in between naps. And forget about praying, or worshiping. That would take way too much energy.
Oy. All complaints from this one. We have to wonder here, does Bob Sorge trump God in this situation? Clearly, Lisa lives her life by the gospels (or the Reader's Digest version), but Bob Sorge's request, nay, insistence that this retreat involve fasting is making it impossible for her to communicate with God, which is basically her lifeblood. And not only that, the purpose for this retreat was so she could commune with God more easily. Is it just us, or is the blatant illogic of the situation not abundantly clear?
So you don't kill yourself, and so we can move on, here are the retreat highlights. Fine, highlight:
I tossed and turned all night long, with weird dreams, none of them from God!
Coffee Talk aficionados will realize this is the third week in a row Whelchel drops an unqualified "weird" in her rantings. Again, so not fair to us. Though, this week, it's almost atoned for by this glorious passage:
Did I mention how much I missed my morning coffee? I’m in love with coffee – I think I’ll marry it.
Hilarious, Lisa. For real. We love when the human trapped inside the Godshell makes a cameo. Unfortunately, the Godshell was still trapped inside the retreat and wanted out. Badly.
About 3 o’clock in the afternoon I said out loud, “Okay, Uncle! I give up. I can’t do this. This is too hard. I want to go home. I miss my family. I’m bored out of my gourd! Even so, Lord, you know I won’t give up. I will stay here for the full three days. But, it would be really nice if you would show up. I just don’t have the energy to seek You and find You. Will you please come get me?”
We can't decide if we heart "Okay, Uncle!" or "I'm bored out my gourd!" more. Hmmm. We'll give the edge to "Okay, Uncle!" because of her actual addressing of an uncle in her attempt at the familiar "to cry uncle."
Any-fuckin'-way, she is eventually relieved...
A couple of hours later I received a phone call from my cousin. (I was only supposed to have one phone call a day but I had cheated a bit on this one.)
No wonder God wasn't calling. A.)Her cousin was hogging the phone line and B.) Clearly he had taken up with someone who was doing the silent, fasting, non-canine retreat correctly.
It was so weird, I had just been praying for my cousins and aunts and uncles that morning. So, I told Tammy that when she called. She went on to say, “Well, I’m sorry that we never get to talk and the only time we do it has to be because of bad news. They took your daddy to the hospital last night and no one has been able to reach you until now.”
"Weird" again. She means "coincidental" here. What's actually "weird" is that she claims she's been praying for scads of people when earlier she wrote that she didn't have energy to do anything during the retreat. At this point, like us, God got completely fed up. Which is clearly why he sent Lisa's dad to the hospital. Right before Father's Day.
I immediately jumped up, grabbed a stale jar of nuts in the pantry, tipped it back, and guzzled it down like it was a soda. Then I threw my stuff in the bag, grabbed my dog, and headed to the hospital, stopping only long enough to grab a sandwich and a drink at Chick-fil-a.
This is why we love our Lisa. Well, two reasons. The "in-the-moment" reason, where she actually stops at a Chick-fil-a before going to see her father in the hospital, and the "meta" reason where she includes in her recollection of an extremely frantic moment the name of the chain restaurant she actually stopped at before going to see her father in the hospital. Oh, yes, it's also totally priceless that she spelled "Chick-fil-a" correctly.
Turns out the father's fine, so, of course, it's back to being about Lisa Lisa Lisa...
For starters, I will either take plenty of juice with me for a shorter retreat or I will go on a longer retreat and not count on doing anything until about the third day when my body adjusts.
Or until the contraband dog fucking blows its brains out from boredom. Speaking of which, the rest of the Coffee Talk entry is a note Lisa wrote to her daddy. It lists poignant reasons why she is thankful for him, the best one being...
I never had to worry as a child. It never crossed my mind to thank you for a safe home, plenty of food, family vacations, a trip to Sears for school clothes and a trip to K-Mart for summer wear. I always had everything I needed because of you.
"Sears," "K-Mart" and "summer wear." A trifecta of Whelchel magicness.
It wraps up with...
...of your love for Jesus. Anytime you come to church with me, or whenever I pray with you, or even just talk about the Lord, you always get teary-eyed. I know Jesus knows how much you love Him deep down inside. But mostly because…
OK. UNCLE!
6.19.2006
All gone.
Penelope Ann Miller has joined Gale Harold and Rebecca Gayheart for the upcoming Fox series, Vanished. They will all play themselves.
Good night!
Good night!
That's our Abe!
People, we have some work to do now. You should know what that means...
In the meantime, enjoy the Chicago Tribune's list of the 50 top magazines of 2006. The fact that Interview is number 17 and something called Lincoln Lore is on this list at all should prepare you for what you're getting into.
In the meantime, enjoy the Chicago Tribune's list of the 50 top magazines of 2006. The fact that Interview is number 17 and something called Lincoln Lore is on this list at all should prepare you for what you're getting into.
Self-destruct.
ABC: Please, take him.
TNT: But, we don't really...
ABC: Listen, just take him. He's professional and very nice.
TNT: But, we're doing fi...
ABC: Please, for the love of god, do us this one favor. We promised him some work, but we can't jeopardize a top-rated show like this any longer. And, you're TNT.
TNT: Ugh. Fine. But we can only promise a limited series. We may send him back when it's done.
TNT: But, we don't really...
ABC: Listen, just take him. He's professional and very nice.
TNT: But, we're doing fi...
ABC: Please, for the love of god, do us this one favor. We promised him some work, but we can't jeopardize a top-rated show like this any longer. And, you're TNT.
TNT: Ugh. Fine. But we can only promise a limited series. We may send him back when it's done.
6.16.2006
June, baby.
All right, already! Get the hell outside and enjoy the weather! Or watch episode 3 of Canada's Next Top Model. Either is acceptable.
We love you deeply. Godspeed.
We love you deeply. Godspeed.
Tell me something iDon't know.
Well, of course iPods are being made in Chinese sweatshops. Where else are you going to find techno-savvy infants with hands small enough to assemble the wonderfully petite Nano? Come on. The best the US can come up with is this:
No, this is not a joke.
Now get back to work, Hop Sing! And make sure those earbuds will come apart after three months!
No, this is not a joke.
Now get back to work, Hop Sing! And make sure those earbuds will come apart after three months!
The straights' story.
We had no idea that last month David Lynch married Mary Sweeney, his partner of 14 years, mother of their son Riley, and editor and producer of his more recent films. As we adore Lynch, we'd like to offer him our belated congratulat...oh.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)