Monday, June 30, 2008
The dates that went well were boring, because you didn't get to hear any of the good stuff. It was the 80's so even if there was some hot, sticky, up against a bathroom wall sex going on, we never got to hear about it. And so it has gone on reality/dating shows up till now. Sure we got a little bit of hooking up on "The Real World" and you get a few exobitionist freaks on "Blind Date" and other shows like that, but it's all just a bit to PG-13 for my liking. Enter Playboy TV's show "Foursome" and I do mean enter:
On this show two men and two women get 24 hours together in a huge mansion. In addition to the ever present cache of booze, sex toys, and lube they are also given events to get them closer to critical mass. These range from a tantric sex class, a trip to the sex toy shop, a chocolate tasting (minus utensils) even to an in house strip club. Sufficed to say, they tend to have the result the produces are hoping for, as the clothes come off and the contestants pull a Noah's Ark and pair off in twos, although the promotional material for the show seams to indicate that larger groups are possible, including all four at once.
Seriously, this is full service television here. You see them get to know each other and then you see them know each other, in the biblical sense. It's dating: soup to nuts, but with actual nuts! You see everything people! Sure it's still a bunch of impossibly hot people fooling around in a hot tub, only now you get to see full frontal (of the men to, ladies). I think a Peabody is in order.
While this show has many gifts to give mankind, you can't underestimate it's profound sociological impact. This is born out in the fact that in the few episodes we've watched the guy that comes in talking about how he's "gonna close the deal" almost always ends up getting shafted, by which I mean: he doesn't end up getting to use his shaft. The less obnoxious guy is batting 1.000 on this show, and the same goes for the girls. The dumb club-girls seam to be the ones who end up wanting to sit on the edge of the bed and talk about feelings, while the "good girl" (how good can she really be when she's on this show, but I digress) is the one who normally ends up between a guy and a bed, shower wall, floor, etc.
This show, in and of itself, justifies the cost of cable/satellite TV. Hell, this show justifies the existence of cable and satellite! What's that? You don't want to order Playboy TV? Well, you can always buy the DVDs. I never stop giving...
Saturday, June 28, 2008
This is a segment from the Australian Talk Show "Rove" which is hosted by Rove McManus and stars a number of other Aussie comedians. This particular video follows Hamish and Andy as they try to see how long they can ride a roller coaster all night without throwing up, or chundering if you will. To make things more interesting Rove has the boys eating hot dogs and drinking milkshakes between each go on the ride. It get's real good.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
So they had it sent to Sotheby's where it was cleaned and prepared for auction with other Cortes works. It ended up fetching 40k, all of which will go to the good works done by Goodwill. I, for one, think that the store manager and employees should get a commission because if they hadn't been on the ball, that painting could very easily be on an Eastern Shore wall. I wouldn't go as far as the Baltimore Sun article did in saying that the wall in question would necessarily have been in a double wide, but that would just be so I don't offend XL, and my own Eastern Shore connections.
The Goodwill in question is just a few blocks from the apartment Inky and I lived in when we got married. My cousin also lives about a mile away from said second hand crap palace, and some of my other family members also called the area home for more than a decade. So, I'm not one to go painting with a broad brush when talking about the people of the area, something John Woestendiek at the Sun wasn't afraid to do apparently. His email address is email@example.com by the way.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to run to the York Goodwill to see what these dumb ass rednecks have given away without checking first. Shit, now I've done it too.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
I have to admit that I’m pretty stoked about the release of Liz Phair’s “Guyville Redux” which is a documentary about her groundbreaking 1993 record “Exile in Guyville” In the doc she interviews the likes of Ira Glass, Steve Albini, John Cusack, and producer Brad Wood who all share their memories of life before, during and after the records release.
As I have said before, I have never stopped loving Liz Phair, even when she “sold out” at Capitol, I’ve always thought she was a great artist making due with her situation. Now, she’s at ATO and free to make another Indie record, which we should see in the Fall of ’08, and which I am waiting for in wrapped anticipation.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
I was doing 108 in a 100 on the Princes Freeway as we passed through the town of Lara. The traffic camera snapped a photo of the cars license plate, and they issued a ticket to the cars owner: the rental company. The company kindly let the coppers know that the car was being driven by me, and gave them my info. Their kindness didn't end there, because not only did they dob me out to the cops but they charged me $50 for violating the terms of my rental agreement. That's full service!
Let me digress for a moment to say that, while I have received quite a few tickets in my life - although none for the last 5 years, having narrowly escaped one this winter - I have never gotten a ticket for so small an infraction. Doing 108 in a 100 sounds bad, but remember this is KPH not MPH. The limit of 100 KPH constitutes 62.14 MPH. (That's right fuckers, I did the math!) I was going 108 KPH or: 67.11 MPH for a total overage of 4.97 MPH! The only way you get a ticket for going less than 5 MPH over the limit in the US is if you are also drunk, Muslim or black. If you are all three, you get the ticket plus a trip to Guantanamo Bay. I have never, repeat: NEVER gotten a ticket for going 67. All my tickets have been in the 70s, which I find respectable and worthy of punishment.
I love Australia, but this is trying my patience. The question is: do I pay the ticket? Apparently if I don't then the next time I go down under, we will be pulled aside at arrival and forced to pay not only the ticket but an additional fine before we are let into the Country. For some people that is fine, they may think that they will never go back to Oz, but Inky and I still have a few things to cross off of our to do list (including your mom... aww, sick burn!)
I would love to think that if I skipped out on paying the ticket that I would start getting letters from the Solicitor General, and the Hopping Mad Collection agency like Bart did when he made his collect call to find out which way the water went in the toilet. Maybe they would even extradite me to suffer a booting, a penalty I would gladly accept, as long as I could take Inky along as my barrister -and to write "don't tread on me" on my butt too.
So I ask you, my readers, should I pay this ticket, or roll the dice?
Monday, June 16, 2008
The owner of the place says he wasn't going to cook and serve the turtle, it was just there for good luck. Yeah sure, and Ricky Williams wasn't smoking that pot, he just kept it for good luck. And isn't it rabbits that are good luck? I think this guy has mixed up his tortoise and hare based wives tales. There is no other reason to have an animal in a kitchen than to cook it, believe me. I would have to think that turtle meat would be kind of tough, but I guess it's all in how you prepare it, maybe sweet and sour turtle is delicious, who knows. I do know that this kid is a fan.
Word has come down that the place is open for business again today, and I think I may drive by on my way home from work to see how busy it is. One thing's for sure, this is now the nastiest turtle-centric story I have ever heard. What was my previous number one you ask? Well, I'll tell you: It involves my cousin telling me about the cock and scrotum Olympics wherein you mold your junk into different shapes. When one pulls the balls up and over the cock it forms a dome like visage that they dubbed "the turtle" and which could have easily been in the "penis showing game" in the movie Waiting. I bet you're sorry you asked.
Who's hungry for Chinese?
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Sometimes, however, my love of all things Aussie manifests itself in strange ways, like an Australian shaped steak. The picture above is a steak that I cooked on our grill for dinner tonight, and when I looked down on it, the shape looked familiar to me. Kind of like that chicken cutlet I made a few years back.
I guess we'll just have to go back to try and fully get it out of our system...
Friday, June 13, 2008
50) A-Ha - Take on Me
49) Augie March - One Crowded Hour
48) Le Tigre - Eau d'Bedroom Dancing
47) Tristan Prettyman - Songs for the Rich
46) Rilo Kiley - Portions for Foxes
45) Counting Crows - Einstein on the Beach
44) Ass Ponys - Little Bastard
43) Death Cab for Cutie - What Sara Said
42) The WAiFS - The Bridal Train
41) Archers of Loaf - Web in Front
40) Liz Phair - Divorce Song
39) Frank Sinatra - Wave
38) Lou Reed - Walk on the Wild Side
37) Crowded House - Weather with You
36) Hey Mercedes - Playing Your Song
35) Paul Kelly - From Little Things, Big Things Grow
34) Less Than Jake - Automatic
33) Pearl Jam - Jeremy
32) The Cyrkle - Red Rubber Ball
31) Son Volt - Route
30) Cold Chisel - Khe Sanh
29) The Smiths - There is a Light That Never Goes Out
28) R.E.M. - Crush with Eyeliner
27) Dusty Springfield - Son of a Preacher Man
26) The Beach Boys - God Only Knows
25) Johnny Cash - Ring of Fire
24) The Kinks - Picture Book
23) The Indigo Girls - Least Complicated
22) Don McLain - American Pie
21) Missy Higgins - The Special Two
20) The Clash - London Calling
19) XTC - The Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead
18) Green Day - When I Come Around
17) Janes Addiction - Jane Says
16) Red Hot Chili Peppers - Suck my Kiss
15) The Jimi Hendrix Experience - All Along The Watchtower
14) Bob Dylan - Quinn the Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn)
13) The Beatles - Let it Be
12) Queen - Under Pressure
11) Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here
10) Dead Milkmen - Methodist Coloring Book
9) Bob Marley & the Whalers - No Woman, No Cry
8) Ani DiFranco - Little Plastic Castle
7) The Allman Brothers Band - Melissa
6) Sheryl Crow - Hard to Make a Stand
5) The Band - The Weight
4) Eric Clapton - Layla
3) Janis Joplin - Me and Bobby McGee
2) Led Zeppelin - D'Yer Mak'er
1) Billy Joel - Miami 2017 (Seen the Lights Go Out on Broadway)
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
To this day the Queen graces the currency in many parts of her former realm. While Canada and Australia are independent nations with their own Parliament and leadership they can still be impacted by actions taken in London (just ask Gough Whitlam about that). People North of the Border and in Oz are more likely to drink tea than coffee, and have a tendency toward other English institution such as Rugby and Cricket. Not to mention a system of government that is patterned after the constitutional monarchy of the UK, despite becoming nations in their own right long after the progressive advances made by the French and American Revolutions.
One other major difference involves our language, both spoken and written. The South Africans and Aussies have an accent that more closely resembles that of the mother country, and they tend to use many of the same slang words as the Brits. Likewise, all of England's other offshoots also maintain the use of the Queen's spelling. Honour, colour, harbour and flavour. Or even centre. While we chose to augment the spelling of these words between the Atlantic and Pacific, they have remained unchanged on 5 other continents.
Why have we moved from all these conventions of speech, custom and recreation? Unfair taxation without representation and 50,000 casualties in the Revolution were a good start. Add to that a burning desire for freedom (note: freedom was only available to white, land owning men) and you have a group of people that wanted to start doing things in a different way then the country they came from. Then to really make the divide wider, stir in people from all around the globe bringing their piece of the puzzle and you 200 years later you get a much different society.
Drop that U, fuck the cuppa, pass me a coffee and lets come up with our own sport to play with a bat and ball or even an oblong ball. Later, we also came up with the car, telephone, personal computer which were all great, but we also invented redneck D-bags, yuppies, Paris Hilton and the SUV so who knows where we stand these days. One thing's for sure; when you fight to sever yourself from the King, you reserve the right to make a few changes. The Aussies asked nicely to be independent, and they got that right (sort of: see the Governor Generals Office) but they still go ape shit for that old bag from Windsor Castle. We go ape shit for White Castle. God bless the USA.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
In times gone by (eg last year) people would set up chairs along US route 30 to watch the rods burn rubber, and fuel, in a catwalkesque parade of American muscle. Talk about a cheep way of entertaining the kids! I was out on 30 a few times this weekend and I hardly saw any hot rods. We all know why, of course, but I am still surprised. If you are going to put 30k into fixing up a 1954 Ford Fairlane, I would think you could drop a few Franklin's on gassing up and driving to York to show off what became of your kids college fund. I guess four dollars plus per gallon for high octane was the breaking point for this particular group of car enthusiasts.
I didn't think they'd be scared away so easily, god knows the bikers won't be when their weekend to descend on York comes in the Fall. Then again, they get like 50 MPG on those things, so they have a leg up. They also have tee shirts that say "if you can read this then the bitch fell off" so lets not go crazy and declare them the winners or anything.
Of course we are all finding out the hard way that if you have some place to get to, and you can't walk, bike or take mass transit, then we are all the the losers. Hey wait, wasn't our invasion of Iraq supposed to pay for itself in oil? Didn't someone say that? Maybe the heat is just getting to me...
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
As long as we are talking about chocolate covered confection perfection, I might as well mention the Picnic bar next. My brother informed me that he tried a Picnic bar in Ireland, but I have discovered that the Aussie Picnic is different from it's UK cousin in one major way: no raisins. I see no reason to ever run a good candy bar with raisins, and apparently the Aussies agree with me. I like to think of the down under Picnic as a Baby Ruth with an added wafer base. Like the Baby Ruth, it looks like a turd, prompting the slogan: "taste buds can't see." I also brought a few of these home, customs was a funny experience.
On our first flight to Oz back in '05 we were informed that Schweppes Lemonade is the number one Australian lemon/lime soda. At first we couldn't figure out just what made it, and all the other soda we had so damn good, but then it was pointed out to us that they don't use high fructose corn syrup in Oz, so they all contain real sugar. We drank quite a bit of the stuff on this trip, but there is a trade off. At home we can get as much Sprite or 7UP as we want on the cheep. But in Oz, with no free refills and expensive prices in markets you REALLY have to want to pay two bucks for a 16 Ounce bottle.
The bottles in the picture that have the green labels are VB or Victoria Bitter, arguably the Aussieist of all Aussie beers. This particular type of bottle is known as a stubby, who's shorter neck allows for easier chugging. Inky put the these bottles down pretty quickly on our last night in Sydney, but the chugging was minimal.
These are just a few of the myriad of things we loved in Australia, in addition to the meat pie, ricotta pancakes and kebab. Who knows what we'll discover the next time we go?
Sunday, June 01, 2008
The clock struck midnight as Inky and I laid in bed in our Sydney hotel, and it was May 31st 2008. Back home on the Eastern Seaboard it was 10 AM on the 30th, in LA is was 7AM on the 30th.
We woke up at 8ish in Sydney, eight hours into my birthday and it was still the 30th in the States, 6:00 PM in NYC, 3:00 PM in LA.
11 Hours into my birthday and Inky and I walked across Carrington Street to Wynyard Station to board the train to the Airport. It was still 9 at night in York PA, and 6 in the Afternoon in Cali... on the 30th.
2:00 PM found us checking and past security at Kingsford Smith Airport. At this moment the calender flipped to the 31st in the timezone of my birth, but it was still 9 PM on the left coast.
3:40 PM and we finally took off an hour late thanks to a few douchebags who didn't get on the flight when the boarding was called. Sitting in a metal tube on asphalt in the hot Sydney sun is no fun, birthday or no. 15 hours and 40 minutes into my 32nd and we were finally airborne. Still the 30th in LA.
Around 10:00 PM Sydney time we crossed the International Date line, and things get hairy. For a few hours We went back in time to the 30th in our actual time, but planes maintain their time of origin in times like these. Still we are 22 hours in the day, and have been awake for 14 of them.
10:00 AM in LA on the 31st and we are on the ground. It is 3:00 AM on June 1st in Sydney and we are on our 27th hour of the 31st. It's 1:00 in the afternoon in Philly, but we have some unscheduled stops to make. Our flight from LA to Philly is delayed so we swap (thanks to the very helpful people at Southwest) and are now bound first for Chicago, where, just to confuse you more, it is noon on the 31st.
2:10 PM on the 31st in LA and our Jet is taking off, bound for Chicago. It's 7:00 AM on the 1st in Sydney and we've been up for 23 hours with only short naps on the Qantas flight. We are also 31 hours into my birthday, which has involved two sunrises and one sunset so far.
7:45 PM in Chicago and we've just touched down at Midway. It is now 10:45 AM on the 1st in Sydney. We have an hour to kill at the gate in the Windy City before we ride that strong tail wind in to the City of Brotherly love.
8:45 PM on the runway at Midway and we are about to take off on our 10th flight in the last 21 days. All told we end up spending just shy of 50 hours in the air on this trip and believe me, none were as taxing as the last 6 over US soil. Inky and I each pass out for immediate REM sleep naps on each cross country flight. Just about the time we got over the lake, we had been going for 36 hours worth of May 31st.
11:05 PM, May 31st on the Tarmac at Philly airport and we are in the 38th hour of our day. It is now 1:05 in the afternoon of June 1st in Sydney, but we are working on about 4 hours of sleep in the last 30 and we just want the travel to cease.
11:55 PM at the Arrivals terminal and we are picked up by Inky's Mom and Ween. I wrap up my birthday and 5/8ths. Sydney to LA. LA to Chicago. Chicago to Philadelphia. Four of the biggest and best cities in the world, and we set foot in all of them on my birthday. I'm still working on getting two gifts out of Inky though.