To start, a few things this post does not include:
1. The band Traffic
2. The movie “Traffic”
3. Traffic when I’m driving my manual Volkswagen Jetta
4. Traffic when I’m trying to get to work
Okay, so maybe this post should be entitled “My Case For: Traffic (when I’m not driving my car or trying to get somewhere on time).” Fair enough.
But I just got home from a seven hour car ride, and I loved it. I wasn’t driving, I caught up on some rest, listened to the Jets game, listened to the Vikings game, and made up scenarios in my mind about our compatriots stuck on the New Jersey Turnpike.
Plus (because of how long the trip was taking) we stopped at a rest stop and I was able to snag my annual Roy Rogers Gold Rush chicken sandwich. Chicken. Bacon. Cheese. Honey-spicy (?) sauce. It’s like Roy Rogers looked into the future, saw my likes and dislikes, and created a sandwich just for me.
Looking back on this post, I realize that maybe it’s not the traffic I like so much, just the sandwich. Which DOES deserve it’s own post, but I just spent seven hours in a car, damn it, and I’m tired.
New York tavern owner Paul Hurley announced earlier this week that in honor of alcoholics everywhere, his tavern will serve turkey pumped full of vodka for Thanksgiving.
“There's an ounce of vodka in every bite,” Hurley told the New York Post.
The bird will apparently be soaked in four different flavors of vodka, and the gravy will be spiked as well.
A few things:
1. Is drinking while eating too difficult for Hurley’s patrons? You’ve got two hands- use them.
2. Has Hurley thought about the fire risk that a vodka-soaked turkey possesses? Okay, great idea- soak a turkey in four bottles of a highly-flammable liquid, and shove it in a 300 degree oven, and poof, turkey flambé. And customer, chef, and restaurant flambé.
3. Guess which guy in the above picture came up with the idea of SOAKING MEAT IN LIQUOR. Hint: it’s the man who’s exploding out of his shirt.
...although by the looks one these peoples faces who would've thought she was in a motorcade in Dallas. Kennedy assassination joke!
And what's Don Shula doing on the right side of that pic?
Anywhoooo, the video's here! Oh and Paula Deen is fine, so don't worry.
Paula Deen Hit With a Ham - Watch more Funny Videos
I'm speechless. The best show of my life, and it was put on by a 60 year-old man.
30 songs. Three and a half hours. Straight. If I can do anything for 3 1/2 straight hours when I'm 60, I expect a damn medal.
I honestly wish I could express just how fantastically soul-exploding last night's sold out show in Baltimore was, but I can't. I guess that's why I'm not a music journalist.
All I can say is they played the whole "Born to Run" album, start to finish. From the opening harmonica of "Thunder Road," to the closing piano notes of "Jungleland." Oh, and that was in the middle of 22 other songs. Just for, you know, fun.
1. Wrecking Ball
2. Prove It All Night
3. Hungry Heart
4. Working On A Dream
5. Thunder Road
6. Tenth Avenue Freezeout
9. Born To Run
10. She's the One
11. Meeting Across the River
13. Waiting On A Sunny Day
14. Spirit In the Night
15. Santa Claus Is Coming to Town (request)
16. E Street Shuffle (request)
17. For You (solo piano)
18. Radio Nowhere (request)
19. My Love Will Not Let You Down
20. Long Walk Home
21. The Rising
23. Ramrod (request)
24. Hard Times
25. Land of Hope and Dreams
26. American Land
27. Dancing In the Dark
29. Higher and Higher
30. Glory Days
I honestly don't know if I will ever go to a better show. And, somehow, I'm not even sad about that.
Tonight, K and I dance. To Bruce Springsteen. Live. In Baltimore.
So I was (naturally) listening to an inordinate amount of Springsteen this week. And I was kicking around the ol' YouTube yesterday when I stumbled across this gem:
My favorite song, performed by my favorite band. How did I not know about this before?
Anyway, I'll have an update tomorrow with a setlist, highlights and lowlights (ha!). But for now it's BRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCE.
So a few days ago I asked ya'll to design a business card for me. (Don't worry if you haven't finished yours yet; this post doesn't have to signal the end of your generosity.)
So I received one submission so far. Everyone else, try and beat this:
Now this is going to go through a few minor changes (all the contact information will probably be moved to the back, with just me and the wolves on the front) but you get the gist of it.
For all of your wolf business card needs, Lanny Hoang ladies and gentlemen.
For more Between Two Ferns sketches, go here.
So I turned 25 a few weeks ago, and since then I've done a lot of reflecting. Mostly about whether or not to start Jonathan Stewart and sit Marion Barber on my fantasy football team (I did not) or whether to listen to Radiohead's "Kid A" or "Amnesiac" (both was my final decision), but reflecting nonetheless.
And in that reflectionary period, I realized that while I write for a living, I don't really do much writing. Let me explain. Yes I sit on here once a day and spout off about Miley Cyrus or Patton Oswalt movies or instant macaroni and cheese, and during the day I sit at a desk and write stories for a newspaper. But in terms of long-form, creative writing? Zilch.
So that's going to change. I started thinking about how I'm going to fix that, and instead of doing things like a.) opening Microsoft Word, or b.) turning off Monday Night Football, I thought about business cards.
Bingo. Everyone needs a sweet ass business card right? People will be lining up to read my stuff if I grease their palms with a sassy business card!
So here's the deal. I know a lot of you are creative, artistic, unemployed, and most likely a combination of those three. So create a business card for me! I'll have my favorite ones printed up, and I'll of course pimp whatever kind of business you may or may not have ON THIS VERY SITE.
A few tips:
-Okay one tip. Just incorporate my name somehow.
Note: I will probably not pay you. Maybe in hugs. Or an expired 2009 Entertainment Book.
Here are some awesome examples that Chris Hardwick (@Nerdist) recently had his (millions of) followers create for him.
As you can see from the lead image, graphic design is not my forte. So go forth, minions, and do they bidding. Or completely ignore this post and wonder why I don't write stupid crap about Sesame Street anymore.
(And yes, I realize how cheap this post makes me look.)
You like this shirt. That's not a question, it's a fact.
How about Twilight. I could care less about it, but everyone and their damn mother seems to be chattin it up like it's the new Jersey Girl, or Citizen Kane, or some equally awesome movie.
What if I told you you could combine the two?
P.S.- I received the bad ass shirt below for my birthday last week. I imagine I will wear it to the candlelight service on Christmas Eve.
When I was younger, Thanksgiving was the day.
In college, it became mid-November.
Then this year, the day after Halloween, the Christmas tree went up in the Ace Hardware on K’s block, Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” went on the speakers at Target, and egg nog went on sale at the grocery store.
So, Christmas is here. And I love it.
Most people complain. “Ugh,” they say. “I can’t STAND this Christmas music.” Well, you know what? It’s the 21st century, put on a freaking iPod.
Don’t want to see a Christmas tree yet? Don’t go in that store. Don’t want to read the holiday circulars? Don’t read the newspaper. (Wait. Scratch that one. Read MANY, MANY newspapers, and pay for them. My career depends on it.)
The way I see it, it’s capitalism in motion. If advertisers and store owners didn’t think their Christmas blitz would work in the first week of November, they wouldn’t rush it out the door. But they do, and it does.
And the same people who are disappointed are the same ones who are sad the day it’s over.
“Oh Christmas came and went so quickly this year,” they’ll say to their friends. “We simply MUST get together next holiday season.”
Well, you could’ve gotten together THIS holiday season, if you just accepted the fact that it started in November.
(P.S.- Doesn't that toy store in the photo look AWESOME?)
I got a message on my phone last night from this person, Alexia Smith. It was about something awesome (seemingly), but when I called the person back this morning, the person on the other end said they had no idea who "Alexia Smith" was.
So. If you know an Alexia Smith, or you are Alexia Smith, get at me. If you're not, and you called my phone last night and left a prank message about this seemingly awesome thing, feel free to die. Thanks.
I usually reserve the “Horseman of the Apocalypse” segment for actual human beings, like Billy Ray Cyrus or Andy Dick. But I dislike this show with such a passion that is deserves this.
1975: Merv Griffin introduces “Wheel of Fortune” to the American public, via daytime television. The American unemployment rate skyrockets to 9.2%, after couch potatoes become incredibly depressed by the show and stop applying for jobs.
Later 1975: Wheel of Fortune the board game is released. It is subsequently named “Worst Board Game of the Millennium (even though it’s only 1975)” by the Board Game Association of America.
September 19, 1983: Wheel of Fortune moves to primetime.
September 19, 1983: Pat Sajak’s gigantic head becomes the host of Wheel of Fortune. Sony immediately begins researching widescreen technology to accommodate Sajak’s hair.
1989: Wheel of Fortune moves from Burbank, California, to the Fairfax District in Los Angeles. Property values in the Fairfax District plummet, and the show’s arrival is cited as a contributing factor in the rising tension between the Bloods and the Crips.
October 14, 2008: Michelle Loewenstein becomes the first and only contestant to win the $1 million bonus prize. Sajak cries himself to sleep.
November 11, 2009: Bradford Pearson destroys a rowhouse in Baltimore after forgetting that Wheel of Fortune was on after Jeopardy, accidentally leaving the television on. Vanna White’s botoxed face burns into the plasma screen, sending Pearson into a rage.
By now I'm sure a lot of you have seen this photo of Sammy Sosa, taken last week. Super pale, right?
A few notes:
1.) Beyond the obvious, there is one thing that jumps out about this photo: Sammy Sosa is wearing a leather blazer. This guy makes tens of millions of dollars over the course of his career, and he can't hire a stylist? He reminds me of one of those goth kids in high school, sans Slipknot t-shirt.
2.) In a New York Daily News article about the photo, one of Sosa's friends claimed,
"He is going through a rejuvenation process for his skin...he was surprised he came out looking so white."
White? Try translucent. And what was the "rejuvenation" with, steel wool?
3.) Remember in Mission: Impossible II, when Dr. Nekhorvich injects himself with the chimera virus? And turns that ghastly shade of white? Yeah it's like that.
Step one: smash meat into a paste.
Step two: mix meat with tiny cubes of potatoes.
Step three: slather mixture on a hot griddle.
Step four: plate.
Step five: eat your pile of crispy mush while others ask what the hell it is.
Such is the life of corned beef hash. Ridiculed as a lesser breakfast meat, corned beef hash gets lumped in with scrapple and pork roll as a “try and you’ll like it” menu choice.
And, to be fair, it’s much better than either of those. Any diner worth its sea salt has it on the menu, and if it doesn’t, get the hell out.
Hash’s appeal is difficult to explain. It looks like baby food, and often gets lost among “bacon” and “sausage” as food that “normal” Americans eat at diners. But, in a few words, it’s salty, savory, sweet, and crispy, all in one. It’s kind of like if you used glazed donuts as a bun for a cheeseburger. (Just go with it)
So next time Flo the 62-year-old, too-much-eyeliner-wearing waitress at your local diner asks “What kind of meat you want with those eggs?”, avoid the obvious pornographic implications of that sentence and simply say, “I’ll have the hash.”
You like Outkast? How about Aesop Rock? Brother Ali?
Then try this. Hell, even if you don't like any of them give this a try. Sufjan Stevens remixed with, well, those rappers.
You can listen to the whole album here.
Good movie, but a perfect microcosm of Spike's up and down directorial career.
Up next in the Netflix queue: Fargo
(That title was a poorly conceived attempt to replicate the opening line from "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Fail)
So I turn 25 today. I’ve made some mistakes (frosting my hair in ninth grade comes to mind), but for the most part I think I’ve led a pretty decent life. I mean, c’mon, I have OVER 800 Facebook friends, so I must be doing something right (right?).
Nov. 4, 1984. The day that will live in infamy, at least for anyone who doesn’t remember Pearl Harbor Day as the day that will live in infamy.
When I was a little kid, I remember having this poster on my wall that highlighted all the “important” things that happened on Nov. 4, 1984.
Here are some of them, updated with my responses, 25 years later.
The number one song in the country is Billy Ocean’s “Caribbean Queen”
If you told Billy Ocean that 25 years after this song came out that he would look like this:
Instead of this:
…he probably would’ve punched you in the face.
Michael Jackson wins a Grammy for Album of the Year for Thriller
Hair catches on fire.
Gives an entire interview from a tree.
As far as 25 year chunks go, Michael’s rivaled anyone’s for pure weirdness.
The American unemployment rate soars to 9.5%
The basic United States stamp cost 20 cents
“What the hell is a stamp?”
(Oh and that kid at the top? Totally not me, got it from Google Images. Suck on that, 1984! The Internet!)
These aren't two people you'd ever expect together, would you?
Well, to be fair, they aren't really together. Which is probably better for Dame Gaga, considering what Walken does to "Poker Face" in this clip. Enjoy.
Via Jezebel, via K.
In the long history of rock and roll, there are the overrated bands (U2, the Allman Brothers Band) and the underrated bands (The Kinks, The Band). There are the classic bands (Beatles, Stones, Pink Floyd) and the niche bands (The Replacements, Fugazi).
Then there are the bands that divide us. Rush is one of those bands.
Detractors will say that Neil Peart’s lyrics are ridiculous, steeped in sci-fi and fantasy worlds. Well you know what? So were Robert Plant’s and Jimmy Page’s, and Led Zeppelin seemed to do alright for itself.
But put the lyrics aside and what you’re left with is a wall of sound by three of the hardest rocking men in history.
As far as musical trios go, the top five look something like this:
4. Big Star (okay maybe they’re a little light for “power” trio, but they kick ass)
2. The Jimi Hendrix Experience
Yes, Rush is higher than Hendrix, Cobain, and Clapton. And the reason is consistency. Nearly every Rush album is a great, layered piece of art.
Rush songs sound perfect, whether on a stereo or headphones. Peart is one of the greatest drummers of all time, and Geddy Lee bassline on “Spirit of Radio” is one of the most recognizable in all of music.
The band has 24 gold records, and 14 platinum ones, selling more than 40 million albums worldwide.
So why no respect? Number one, they’re Canadian. I usually hate Canadians (like most good Americans should) but I’ll put my hatred aside for Rush.
Number two? Well, there is no number two because you should love Rush.
And look at this! Jason Segal, from How I Met Your Mother and Forgetting Sarah Marshall, loves Rush! Well, at least his character in Freaks and Geeks does. Check it:
Oh and they somehow aren’t in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Just another reason why I hate that stupid place.