D-O-H

This just in…National Spelling Bee Favorite Samir Patel was knocked out in the 5th round of the Scripps National Spelling Bee this afternoon.



Samir tripped up on the word “Clevis”, which is some sort of type setting device. He spelled the word - “C-L-E-V-I-C-E”.

Samir, for those who don’t follow the “spelling bee circuit” was in his 5th national competition and was the favorite coming in. However the 13 year old will now go home empty handed for the 5th year in a row.

Perhaps he should change his name to “Samir Nagonnaspellhereanymore”. Ouch. The rest of the bee will continue this afternoon with the finals aired lived on ABC this evening. I’m predicting Akeelah to win tonight.


Akeelah’s sass and cold, calculating demeanor should land her the Spelling Bee title this evening

It's all been done before...

Ooh ooh ooh...it's all been done...ooh ooh...it's all been done, before...

That Barenaked Ladies song popped into my head when I read an article this morning that Mark Cuban, the much ballyhooed owner of the NBA's Dallas Mavericks, wants to launch his own professional football league.

http://sports.yahoo.com/top/news?slug=ap-newfootballleague&prov=ap&type=lgns

Cuban's idea centers around taking lower round draft picks to populate the league, which will save on having to pay high salaries to players. I actually thought about that point after the recent draft. How many NFL players drafted below the 3rd round actually get a chance to play? I mean not to say you don't have "gems" later in the draft (i.e. Tom Brady) or guys that weren't drafted at all (i.e. Tony Romo), but by and large most guys drafted end up on practice squads or playing in Europe. So conceivably this idea of another league, which if they do it right should be positioned as a development league, could stick. Not to say it'll be popular as NFL football on Sundays...but if minor league baseball works...then why not "minor league football?". People love to tailgate. As long as they kept ticket prices down and did some zany local market promotions (like the minor league baseball team in Sauget with the deep fried White Castles at their concessions).

I honestly think this could work though. I was an avid and rapid fan of the New Jersey Generals of the USFL in the early 80s. Mainly because it gave me a local team to root for since I was a Dallas Cowboys fan.


Walker hitting the hole for the Generals

Plus Herschel Walker ended up getting a "promotion" to the "big league" a few years later landing a spot on the Cowboys years later. But it doesn't just end with Herschel. Look at all of the great NFL talent that came directly from the USFL:


Future Super Bowl Champion and MVP Doug Williams of the Redskins


Future 4 time Super Bowl participant Jim Kelly of the Bills


Future Super Bowl Champion and one of the greatest scrambling QBs in NFL history, Steve Young of the 49ers


Reggie White would become arguably the greatest defensive end ever to play in the NFL for the Eagles


Without the USFL, we may never had been introduced to Flutie Flakes and longtime fan favorite Doug Flutie of the Bills

Other players who made an impact in the NFL coming from the USFL include:

Mel Gray - RB/KR Lions
Mike Rozier - RB Oilers
Bobby Hebert - QB Saints
Albert Bentley - WR Colts
Anthony Carter - WR Vikings
Ricky Sanders - WR Redskins

So when done right, an alternate league can yield some great undiscovered talent. Even the short-lived XFL contributed to the NFL by giving them Rod Smart of He Hate Me fame. Plus the NFL also stole the XFL's roving field cameras and started using them during games (despite the NFL saying these were once-in-a-lifetime revolutionary cameras which as anyone who watched the XFL know was complete bullshit).

So even though I hate Mark Cuban because he's a meddling pompous asshole who complains and whines about everything (hmm...remind you of a Mr. Steinbrenner?), I wish him well with this new league. After all, I'd love to see the next Herschel Walker or Doug Flutie in action before they hit it big!

Things that make you go hmmmm...

So Juliana sent me this link yesterday to a picture posted in a Belgium playground.



Innocent enough playground description right? Children holding hands. Playing on swings. Fucking each other up the ass.

I guess that's what they call the Belgium Dip? I mean really though...I know sexual rules are less stringent in Europe than they are here but starting at the playground...that's a bit too early, no? You can say, oh, they're just describing a wheelbarrow game. But honestly, how close do you get to the person who's legs you're holding during the wheelbarrow? Close enough to have your dick in their ass? I think not. You're holding by the ankles...maybe the calves. Unless you're hung like Ron Jeremy I don't think you're getting close enough to penetration. Could you see this picture in an American playground? Bad enough kids are having sex starting at 13 these days. Don't need to be giving them new positions to try out!

Anyway...it reminded me that I forgot to share a few silly pictures from my London adventures with y'all. Oops. Here's some more pictures/signs that will hopefully make you laugh a little on this "hump" day (Wednesday is often called "hump" day since it falls in the middle of the week - for those a little slow on the uptake).




Nothing says entertaining your guests like a little "cockfighting"


Remember, people with chlamydia feel healthy, just like you do!


Take me to Cockfosters, pronto!


Taken in a London "loo"..."Sir, would you care for a hot towel, mint, condom?"

Southern Hospitality

So spent my weekend in rootin’ tootin’ Nashville. Cool city - fun filled and action packed. We had our Field & Stream Total Outdoorsman Challege at Bass Pro Shops in Nashville on Saturday so that was entertaining watching these guys compete. Unfortunately didn’t get a chance to visit Graceland to bust out my Elvis impersonation, but an Elvis impersonator did come into the bar on Saturday night. Although he was wearing a red plaid jacket. I turned my head to the group I was standing with and said “Elvis didn’t wear plaid, did he?” Need to investigate that a bit more.

We stayed at this 5 star hotel called The Hermitage. Awesome place. Everything in the place was treated with white glove service, right from the top hat and coat tailed bellhops to the marble encased bathroom counter and floors. The lobby was exquisite with a huge arched ceiling and chandeliers galore.


The lobby of the Hermitage

The bedroom was awesome as well, with a king sized bed with at least 800 tread count silk bedsheets and soft down comforter and pillows. The bathroom was huge as well, with a sunken tub and separate glass doored standing shower. They even had a separate room for the toilet. Yep, a separate little room. Cool stuff. Just an awesome hotel all around and just a few blocks from downtown Nashville. And affordable too…my room rate was only $249 a night (which for a 5 star hotel is really good!)


The down comfortable and silken bed sheets await

I happened to grab dinner at the hotel one night at their bar (The Oak Bar). I of course went for the traditional Fried Green Tomatoes which were outstanding. They looked and tasted just like crab cakes. Delicate enough to cut with a fork but meaty enough to withstand the breading I can tell you "FGT" is definitely worth all of the hype!



Just like the watching movie, I cried tears of joy eating some Fried Green Tomatoes

I also treated myself to some Fried Quail in a Jack Daniels demi-glaze. It tasted like a sweet and sour fried chicken – unreal. The bartender said their fried quail dish is their answer to chicken wings down there. I’d have to agree. I think I would’ve eaten the bone if it was edible – it was that tasty! Paired with a local brew called Yazoo – and you had yourself a great dinner worthy of a Rachel Ray Yum-O (more on her in a bit).

We went out on Broadway in Nashville on Saturday night, which is almost like a Carson City meets Times Square meets the Vegas strip. It’s basically a three block radius filled with bright lights, street performers and bars galore. Downtown Nashville is hoping on a weekend night, with most of the bars having long waits just to enter. Each bar has their own band playing and for the most part they are no-frills kind of places with people drinking, dancing, hootin and hollerin as the band cranks out country rock and blues classics. We visited both Lola’s Bluegrass Inn and The Stage in Nashville. Both places were hoppin but The Stage was truly packed. There must have been 300-400 people jammed in their. Looked like a Frat house party with an open pit of people rocking away and a balcony for those who wanted to oversee the action from above. Although I'm disappointed we didn’t hit any Honky Tonk bars so didn’t get to see any line dancing or any boot scootin booging going on. But nonetheless, I’d definitely recommend visiting Nashville if you’re looking to spend a fun weekend away.


The Stage in Downtown Nashville

And about that whole stereotype about people marrying young in the South. I had known it has existed but to see it first hand was eye-opening. Literally everyone over the age of 18 was married down there. The 24 year old worker at Bass Pro Shops was upset that it took her that long to get married since she looks “old now”. Are you kidding? Then again compared to everyone else who was married down there she did look old. Out at the bar there was a bachelorette party. The bride to be was maybe 21 at most. All of her bridesmaids were around the same age as well. Not one of them didn’t have an engagement or wedding ring on their finger! Unreal. I’d feel bad for anyone over the age of 25 who was single down there. It would probably mean you’ve either been divorced, widowed or you’re really the runt of the litter. It’s like in Kindergarten they tell you: Ok Billy Bob, you’re gonna marry Peggy Sue when you turn 18. Or else no grits for you. Understood mister? Crazy stuff especially coming from the Northeast where people by and large wait till they’re at least old enough to drink before we get married.

Anyway, back to Rachel Ray. Came across this hilarious video on YouTube of a montage of Rachel Ray from $40 a day. The video is cut closely so it shows her “orgasming” on camera about the food she’s eating. Pretty funny stuff if you have 2 minutes to spare while you spill your Chinese food all over your keyboard during lunch.

Lady...it wouldn't kill ya...

So last night I got on the uptown 4 train at Bowling Green and at Wall St. this rather "weighty" (to say it politely) lady sat next to me. She sat down with a bag of McDonalds on her lap and starting eating. At this point I was starving having just played racquetball for almost 2 hours so the smell of fries and burgers was making my stomach grumble. She opens the bag and I peer in. She had like 4 quarter pounders with cheese and an overflowing portion of fries. I tried not to stare as she devoured fries and burgers.

Anyway, at 14th street, a very skinny and sickly looking homeless man came onto the train looking for some change or food. I actually had no bills smaller than $20 lest I would have given him some change. The lady, seeing that the man was approaching, stuffed a hunk of burger in her mouth and rolled up her bag of McDonald's. Not sure if the guy saw her or not but as he politely asked her if she could spare some change or food, she shook her head no as she tried to chew her food slowly. The guy stared at her for a few seconds and then walked away.

I mean really...lady...it wouldn't kill you to spare one of the burgers in your bag. Unless you were bringing it home for your family...which it appeared that you weren't, I think you could've done without an extra cheeseburger. I mean I'm sure the 2,000 calories you already downed with the burgers and fries didn't come close to filling you up. But if you ever even complained about being fat...well...now you know why.

I looked at her in disbelief and disgust. A guy across from me looked at me and shook his head and we smiled. Cause he was thinking the same thing I was. You fucking fat ass...spare a fucking cheeseburger... (at least I think that's what he was thinking - it was what I was thinking). Anyway, its a good thing I had my "inner voice" working lest I would have created a messy situation. And that wouldn't have been good.

Anyway, been stuck in a land of work today so many apologies for the late blog. That and I'm heading to Nashville tomorrow for a work event. Maybe I'll run into my girl Gretchen and she can show me a rootin tootin good time down there! Although I'll need to download some country onto my iPod to get me caught up on the latest country hits. And I may have to have Bridget give me some quick line dancing lessons. I wouldn't want to be the only one not doing the "Boot Scootin' Boogie" at the bar!


"Oh get down, turn around go to town boot scootin' boogie"

Anyway...sorry for the short and sweet post for now...I'll try to give y'all something good before we hit the holiday weekend!

Oh and btw...about American Idol...TOLD YOU SO! America loves a crier!

American Idle

So I'm probably the only person in America (or the world for that matter) who didn't watch American Idol last night. Well make that Bridget & I since we went to grab dinner at the Barking Dog. We got back at 9:15 and I flipped on Fox to see some guy giving a monologue type performance on stage. Then I remembered Idol started at 8 not 9. Oops. Oh well...I'm sure I didn't miss much and I don't really need to watch tonight to know who wins. Cause I know. It's Jordin Sparks.

How do I know? Well the two best female singers got knocked out already in LaKisha and Doolittle, and Blake is basically playing the Clay Aiken to Jordin's Kelly Clarkson winning role. I read online this morning that she even shed a tear while singing the new Idol single - "This is my now" or something like that.

So she pretty much just wrapped it up. America loves a crier.

I won't be watching tonight. I have better things to do. Like laundry. That and I won't be voting either. Mainly because I can't vote for Jordin. Why...because I'm a Dallas Cowboys fan. Although Sparks did play one season for the Boys in 2000, hauling in 5 INTs. Although they didn't win the Super that year and by and large he was a Giants player for his whole career. So can't root for the enemy and thus can't vote for her. Sorry Jordin. Although you're gonna win anyway. Sorry to ruin the surprise for everyone.

IF I did have to vote...I'd vote for Gretchen Wilson.


My "Idol" vote goes to Gretchen Wilson

And don't give me this bullshit that you can't vote for someone else besides the final two. I'm voting for Gretchen simply because her song "All Jacked Up" has popped into my head more than any other song over the past few months. So I'm basing my decision on that.

Don't know the song? You should get to know it. It's a boot stomping, head nodding, rootin-tootin good tune. Great also for working out in the gym and perfect for sculpting those abs for the summer. I think it should be the official song of the Jersey Shore for the summer. Hell, maybe even the MLB should adopt it in a new marketing campaign.


Bonds will star in the new MLB Marketing Campaign - "All Jacked Up"

Makes perfect sense, since all of the players have gotten "Jacked" over the past 10 years off steriods and human growth hormones.

Actually I think I may even go ahead and produce the marketing video for them. Would be pretty easy to do. You could just flash before and after pictures of Bonds, McGwire, Canseco, Giambi, Sosa, etc. You can start out with them as they came into the league, skinny and non-muscular and show pictures of them downing vitamins or injecting the HGH into their asses gradually becoming bigger and bigger. All while "All Jacked Up" plays in the background. Not a bad concept...maybe I should get a job in marketing someday ;)

Juice ain't worth no two dollars!

So getting breakfast this morning at Chicken Deli on 33rd btw Park & Madison (good for a cheap breakfast if you're in the hood), a young male grabbed a bottle of juice - one of those V-8 Fusion drink things - and proceeded to hand the cashier a dollar bill.

The cashier responded: "$1.79"

The youth: "$1.79???"

The cashier: "$1.79"

The youth reluctantly pulled another dollar out of his pocket: "God dam...juice ain't worth no two dollars"


Is V-8's V-Fusion worth two dollars?

I tried not to laugh but you know what - the kid is right. A 10 ounce drink used to be a buck. But not anymore...and definitely not in midtown. But I feel for you son, I agree that juice ain't worth no two dollars.

And while we're talking about price gouging...do an experiment and see how much your local deli charges you for Vitamin Water. Up in East Harlem, I can get a 20 oz bottle (regular size) for $1.50. At our little newsstand in my building on Park & 33rd, I can get Vitamin Water for $2. But go to any food place, deli, etc, and you're paying $2.50-$3.00 for it. Ridiculous. Maybe next time I should complain and say "Vitamin Water ain't worth no three dollar"!

Anyway, thank you to the Yankees for actually showing up last night. Although they still have this problem with the whole manufacturing runs thing. Runners on 1st and 2nd with no one out, and they don't score a run in the inning. That's the kind of shit that's prevented them from winning championships these past few seasons. Although for the first time ever I actually gave Jorge Posada a standing ovation. Yep (all my friends probably just had a heart attack upon hearing that). I've long thought Posada was a bit overrated, mainly because despite being one of the best catchers in baseball, he's consistantly failed to be clutch when they needed him, especially in the postseason. Anyway, I gave him an ovation when he tried to lay down a bunt for a hit. I couldn't believe it. A bunt. I turned to the guys behind us and said where was that when they played the Red Sox in 04 in Game 6 when Schilling had his ankle hanging from his leg by sutures. Makes sense right?

Anyway it was like fight night at the stadium last night. Every two seconds someone was being thrown out. Probably cause half the stadium was Red Sox fans and the Yankee fans are getting desperate for wins at this point. Although almost every fight involved a girl. I guess that shouldn't surprise me though because when you have a group of drunk girls in Red Sox jerseys sitting next to a group of drunk girls in Yankees jerseys...well you can only guess the conversation won't be where they happen to get their manicures from.

The one thing that kept me "cool" last night were Dippin Dots. You know, the self proclaimed "Ice Cream of the Future". Although they've been saying that for the last 10 years now so maybe it's time for a new slogan! Anyway, I had never had them before, but Bridget picked me up some chocolate dots on her way back from getting a beer. And you know what, they weren't half bad.


Dippin Dots - The Ice Cream of the Future

The dots just melt in your mouth and they have a crunchy but soft texture to them. Definitely a tasty treat. Although Bridget nearly ate my whole dish of them. So I had to bust out the Napoleon Dynamite on her. "Gosh, get off my dots. Get your own dots. Gosh." But pretty good stuff if you ever need a sweet treat sometime!

If 50 is the new 40…

So as they say these days, 50 is the new 40 (largely thanks to advances in “wrinkle cream” cosmetics, botox shots and plastic surgeries galore). Also it is commonly said that 40 is the new 30, due to 40 year olds being more active and looking younger these days (which is largely thanks to the recent explosion of 40 year old “hot” female stars, like Madonna, Teri Hatcher, etc. Read this article for more details)

Drilling down even further, it’s been also widely said that 30 is the new 20. In that case, happy 20th birthday to me! I’ve been waiting sooooo long to turn 20. I mean thank god I can finally put those dreaded teenage years behind me and sound much more “adult-like”. People take you so much more seriously when you say you’re “20 something” rather than being a “teenager”.

To celebrate my “20th birthday” this past weekend we went where any responsible “20 year old” would go: Charlie Brown’s Steakhouse. Being that it’s also my mother’s birthday (yes, I was born on the same day as my mother. And please no more jokes about “that’s the best present she’s ever gotten” or “wow, what a birthday present for her”) we made a group decision to go out to eat. Instead of picking anything in Brooklyn or going to a “chain” like Cheesesteak Factory or Olive Garden, we decided to take a trip out to Staten Island to eat at the good ole’ family fun destination of Charlie Brown’s. I personally had voted for Burger King so I could get a crown, but I was overruled.


That bitch stole my Burger King crown

Before you make fun, let me just tell you there’s no knockin the Charlie Brown’s. The fun atmosphere, good food, and fair prices make it the ideal location to celebrate a birthday, as evidenced by the “Happy Birthday to You” songs that seemed to be sung every 5 minutes by the staff (of course we got ours too...but we didn't get a balloon so I was disappointed about that). But fun atmosphere aside, for a family of 5 to eat dinner, which included appetizer, salad bar, steaks all around (filet mignon’s, porterhouses, prime rib, sirloin and shrimp, etc), two hulking pieces of dessert (including the world’s biggest piece of carrot cake) and 2 rounds of drinks, the total bill was $150 bucks. That’s it. $150. That would have cost like $500 in the city. Our first round of drinks, which included 2 beers, a martini and a jagerbomb only cost $20. That’s like highway robbery right there. They even advertise a margarita night, with $1.50 margs. They also advertised a new “Carlito’s Taco Salad” for just $9.99. Which prompted me to say “Say hello to my lil’ salad”. Although I guess you had to be there to appreciate it. It’s much funnier after a few beers – trust me. But all in all, if I had a car or lived on S.I. or in N.J, Charlie Brown’s seems like the place to be!

The other highlight of the weekend was going to Tea & Sympathy with Juliana and Bridget. Tea & Sympathy is located in the “Little Britain” area of NYC, down on Greenwich Avenue. If you’re not familiar, some of the stores, along with Virgin Atlantic want to rename this area of the West Village “Little Britain”. Albeit there are only a few British shops such as Tea & Sympathy and A Salt & Battery on this one block stretch, so it’ll be interesting to see how that pans out.

Since we had to wait over 30 minutes for a table at Tea & Sympathy, I was starving so decided to get some Fish & Chips at A Salt & Battery. I was especially after craving them after devouring Fish & Chips in London last week (plus I was curious to see what all the hype was about, after seeing Bobby Flay challenge them and lose on one of his Bobby Flay Throwdowns. I got a small order to go with a coke and the total price was over $10. Pretty hefty but there’s not too many places to get authentic Fish & Chips in the city so you’re definitely paying a premium. The fish was deep fried and crispy and the fish was tender. Although it definitely paled in comparison to the authentic British version. The “chips” or fries weren’t that good and we threw half of them out. On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d rate them a 6.5 (with the fish getting a 7/8 and the chips getting a 4/5). The one cool thing was all of the beers they had available to drink, including several British favorites such as Kronenburg, Old Speckled Hen, Boddington's and Carlsburg. So that's a bonus. But overall, definitely disappointing as a package though and if I wasn’t starving I probably would’ve been more disappointed.


Even if the fish & chips were "so-so", A Salt & Battery had quite the beer selection

Anyway, it whet my appetite for some tea, scones and tea sandwiches at Tea & Sympathy. After the wait we were crammed into a small area that neither of us could really fit into. I mean I was practically sitting on both Bridget’s and Juliana’s laps at the same time. Plus my ass was practically on top of the table behind me. Definitely not the place to be if you’re over 200 pounds. Especially since their seating capacity is only 23 seats and they use every square inch of their dining area. Plus everything is so delicate, so if you’re clumsy please stay away. The food was ok, although it may have been more enjoyable had the space not been so confined. The scones were delicate and tasty and the claddaugh cream and jam were a good compliment. The tea sandwiches were good too, although a little disappointing compared to the afternoon tea was had at the Ritz Carlton in London. The dessert was good as well, but the pieces of cake were huge and rich and definitely put us over the top as far as fullness is concerned. Overall, I'd give it a 7 out of 10. If they gave you more room to eat the experience would've been a lot more enjoyable.


Tea at "Tea & Sympathy" couldn't hold a candle compared to tea at the Ritz Carlton

The other food related highlight of the weekend was seeing a Captain Softee truck. Yes, Captain Softee. Not Mister Softee (as Juliana wittingly said, perhaps he was promoted from Mister to Captain). Anyway I would have taken a picture of the truck but I was told that “I’ve beaten the whole Mr. Softee thing to death on this blog already” – which I begrudgingly admitted too. Although I wonder if the ice cream at “the captain’s” tastes superior? I guess I’ll need to find out someday.

Anyway, it was a good "20th birthday" weekend for me. My favorite present was from my lovely girlfriend Bridget, who bought me a trip to Dallas to see my beloved Cowboys play the Patriots in October. Thanks Bridge! Although maybe this time Romo will hold onto the ball.

Speaking of sports…if the Yankees don’t come out with a “do or die” attitude tonight against the Red Sox I’m gonna be pissed off. I mean, 2 or 3 losses against the Sox can pretty much bury the season. Even though it’s “only May”, mentally its tough to come back being 14 games down. I know its been done before but this team needs to take at least 2 out of 3 from Boston this week, especially with Anaheim coming to town, a team they never beat. So I’ll be there tonight…don’t disappoint me Jankees!

“We made brownies …and I think we’re dead”

So before I “sink my teeth” into the culinary adventures I had in London, I have a funny video to share with you. Some may have saw/heard this already, but nonetheless still good for a laugh on a Friday.

Basically it’s a police officer calling 911 because he thinks he’s dying from a marijuana overdose.

I watched this about 10 times already this morning and I keep cracking up. Love the line:

911 operator: “How much did you guys have”

Policeman: “I don’t know we made brownies. And I think we’re dead. Time is going by really really really really slow”

Hahaha. Great stuff. God bless the internet.

Anyway, onto food. England has long been known by outsiders as a culinary wasteland of sorts. A place where fish & chips was the most salvageable meal and by trying anything else you were taking a culinary risk. Well there has been a culinary revolution of sorts in recent years in England, led by the likes of Gordon Ramsey, Jamie Oliver and friends, who have tried to use their popularity and influence to put those misconceptions to rest.

After hearing all of the negative stereotypes about English cuisine I was excited to put this recent “culinary revolution” to the test. The first order of business was to sample the infamous Fish & Chips.

We stumbled upon a random pub in the Kensington area of London where we had our first meal. Firstly, for those who haven’t been to London before, the pubs are vastly different than they are here in the states. Most of the pubs are smoke filled chambers (although a smoking ban is set to go into affect in July) and most of the pubs (besides ones like The Archers where the brawl took place) are very homey, with couches and comfy chairs for patrons to sit and relax.



The bar resembles someone’s house with spaciousness and comfort

The greatest difference between English and American pubs is there is no “table service” at an English pub. You place your food order at the bar and inform the bartender where you are sitting. When the food is ready, one of the bartenders brings the food over to you. The other difference is the fact that you rarely tip in a London bar. Unlike the states where you tip for everything, you don’t tip the bartender for pouring you a beer and you don’t tip the “waitress” for bringing your food to you. Bar workers make by and large a higher salary than bar workers in the states, so in essence they’re not really working for tips.

Anyway, back to the Fish & Chips. I was excited to sink my teeth into some local caught fried fish goodness and let me tell you I wasn’t disappointed. The batter was crisp and flaky. The fish tender and moist. Even dousing the traditional English vinegar on the fish only heightened the flavor. Normally one to pass on Tartar sauce, I couldn’t dip my fish enough. Fantastic stuff!


I would’ve been happy eating Fish & Chips all weekend, but I’m sure my arteries would’ve hated me.

When paired with a Leffe Blond (which by the way was 10 times stronger than the Leffe here for some reason. The bartender even told me apologetically that they only serve Leffe in “half pints” since patrons normally don’t realize how much alcohol they’re consuming) the fish & chips were even tastier! Plus the breading and frying helped absorb some of the alcohol. Despite that, after two Leffe's I was starting to feel it! Crazy!


Just a few Leffe's in London will give you a quick buzz

Anyway, I was happy to check that off my list as a successful culinary triumph. Breakfast we ate at the hotel since it was included in our room rate. It was the traditional full English breakfast buffet with tea, scones, danishes, muffins and beans, plus other favorites like eggs, Canadian bacon, sausage, hash browns, broiled tomatoes and toast.


The full English breakfast in all its glory

Despite the food being tasty, especially the scones, crossaints and danishes, luckily I avoided multiple trips to the buffet since that would have led to some problems later on in the day.


It's a good thing there's plenty of public toilets in London in case the full English breakfast starts fighting back!

Another bright spot on our culinary adventures was the popular chain Wagamama. Bridget had loved Wagamama when she took a trip to London last year and she was eager to try it again. Wagamama is set up cafeteria style, with long wooden tables in which you could fit at least 20 guests, including being placed next to complete strangers. Unlike traditional English restaurants, there is table service at Wagamama’s, in which the waitress/waiter takes your order on a handheld device and zaps your order to the kitchen. They also write a number down on a large piece of paper that serves as your placemat which is coded so the server knows where to place the dish. Also the food is cooked to order, meaning that as soon as it’s ready, it’s headed to your table, regardless of who got ordered what and who ordered first.

Being that I’m a fan of Pan-Asian cuisine I sunk my teeth into an order of fried Udon noodles with shrimp, chicken and all sorts of veggies. The meal was awesome and the portions were definitely very American sized.


The portions are big and plentiful at Wagamama

We were so giddy about our meal that we were thrilled to find out that they opened a few chains in Boston. So unless you happen to be in the UK, Ireland, Australia, Belgium, Cyprus, Denmark, Netherlands, New Zealand, Turkey or even Dubai you’re shit out of luck finding them in the states other than Boston. But definitely worth a visit if you happen to be abroad.

The most shocking culinary experience in London came on a whim, when we decided to try a pizza restaurant. Refusing to visit a Pizza Slut or other chain like Domino’s, we were starving and looking for a place to eat. My sister mentioned that this place called Pizza Express was supposed to be pretty good. I was skeptical at first being that Pizza Express sounds like something you’d see in a strip mall somewhere, but being that we were on a culinary roll at that point, we figured to give it a shot. Walking into the place it smelled really good which only added to our anticipation to eat. I don’t know if it was because we were starving or not, but the pizza was actually very, very good. We had this four cheese pizza that was fantastic, especially when paired with this light Italian White wine we had ordered. It was so good that we actually ordered a third pie after polishing off the first two.


The surprisingly good pizza at Pizza Express

By and large we never had a bad meal once in London. Even the late night Burger King we got to absorb the alcohol we drank was decent. I’m happy to report that the culinary revolution is well underway in London, and that you don’t need to eat at a top notch restaurant to get good food in England anymore. I don’t think any meal cost us more than 40 pounds in total, and that included three of us with plenty to eat and drink. Converted to American dollars, that would be about $85-$90 dollars, which is still very reasonable considering bottles of wine or multiple beers are involved. Although when you’re only paying 30-40 pounds for the entire meal split three ways, it feels very, very affordable!

Copycats! Copycats!

Before I delve into some of the wonderful food adventures we had in London, a coworker of mine, Mara (who you’ll remember as having taken down that 29 pound turkey on her first hunt), came over to my desk yesterday morning with a “scoop” for me. It seems that the folks at "Time Out New York" did a story on the best walks to do in New York City. But lo and behold, in their story they had a sidebar called “Walk of Shame” in which they discussed giving “violations” for offenders of “pedestrian crimes”.



Hmm. Does this idea sound familiar? It should, considering that back in March I unveiled a posting on the “Rules of Pedestrian Engagement”.

I have tons of admiration for Time Out New York and often keep issues for months and years as references. And the Time Out New York crew obviously has a larger budget than I do (my budget is a whopping nil, zilch, zero, none, you get the point). They were even able to go out and produce video of their reporter dressed up as a policewoman, zapping pedestrians for their violations and giving them tickets (again, sounds a little familiar doesn’t it?)

Some of the violations they handed out were for:

“Walking too slow in a crowded area”

“Stopping in an inconvenient place”

“Stopping at the top of the stairs at a subway station”

And…drumroll please…

“Walking side by side in a group of three or more”

Now...as much as I love Time Out New York for their articles and viewpoint on New York City life I became very suspicious. Especially considering the violation I had specifically discussed giving pedestrians was:

“Persons in groups of three or more who are walking together side by side”

Hmm...can someone say plagiarism?

Now I know my blog is not as popular as say Gawker or any of the other celebrity or humor blogs out there, but how was I to know that someone hadn’t seen my blog, read that post and decided that that would make a great idea for a story. Giving them the benefit of the doubt, I wrote a letter to Time Out New York explaining I was a loyal reader and that I was curious on where they got their idea and inspiration for this pedestrian rules story being that I had covered a similar story months back.

I got a prompt and courteous response back from their deputy editor saying that their ideas are discussed in their brainstorming sessions, and they had an idea about walking etiquette in general and came up with some nagging pedestrian gripes, like walking in threes, impeding traffic, etc. They assured me they had no knowledge of my blog and thanked me for also shedding light on the subject.

I thought it was very nice of them to send a response in acknowledgement. And I’m sure their initial response was like, “Fuck this guy, we’re Time Out New York, who gives a shit about his little blog”. And rightly so. But in this day and age of “The Blogger” and with journalistic integrity under scrutiny now more than ever, I was a little disappointed they didn’t research their subject a little before going to press with the story. Not to say pedestrian rules haven’t been discussed before in many aspects and I know I’m certainly not the first nor the last to come up with zany ideas on how to punish pedestrian rule violators. However, I know that with my journalism background, Journalism 101 says always research your subject to see if it’s been discussed before.

I know I do that with this blog, and if come across an idea that has been discussed already, I’ll decide if my spin on things is unique and then move forward from there. If my idea is not fresher or better than the one already out there, maybe I’ll acknowledge the point and give credit to the person who came up with the idea. Case and point, I thought up an idea when I (ok...Bridget) launched this blog over a year ago to call myself “America’s Next Top Blogger”, after the widely popular “America’s Next Top Model” show with Tyra Banks. However, a quick Google search yielded some people had already used that term so I decided that I could just be seen “copying” off them even though I had the idea pop into my head without seeing it elsewhere.

Anyway, I was a little upset that no one on their team did any research on Pedestrian Rules or Pedestrian Violations or giving tickets to pedestrians in a humorous sort of angle. Not to say they necessarily would have seen my posting, but with just a little Google digging they could have seen the topic had been discussed. I do however applaud their ingenuity and brainstorming ideas and, taking the high road (which I almost never, ever do!) gave a kudos response back to their staff for the idea. I also mentioned they can feel free to contact me about future ideas, for which I of course was met with no response.

So I’m gonna give them the benefit of the doubt for now. Although I can proudly say that I “went to market” and developed an idea way before a whole staff of journalists did for a popular magazine! Just shows that thanks to blogs anyone can voice their opinions and ideas, no matter how far-fetched or arcane! And maybe they’ll take me up on my offer to help brainstorm a few ideas for them for future stories. Although that's highly doubtful.

Anyway, this is a warning, Time Out New York staff. If I do see any articles in the future that even remotely resemble a topic I’ve discussed on this blog I’m calling bullshit on you! I'll go to your offices and inflate one of those union rats in front of your building! I'll say mean and nasty things about you...like your mother is a french prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet! So let this be a warning!


An inflatable rat awaits the next person who plagiarizes this blog!

I’ll post more later on my food adventures through London, including my yummy rendez-vous with Fish and Chips and my experience at the widely popular chain, Wagamama.

Bar fight – the story

So as promised (and because I know everyone’s been patiently waiting for it) here’s the story of the bar fight we witnessed in London.

Bridget (my girlfriend), Abriana (my sister) and I were exploring the East London area visiting the popular Indian/Bangladesh street known as Brick Lane. Brick Lane is home to some of the best Indian/Bangladeshi food in all of London so we figured we check out what all the hype was about.

We got to the strip around 5pm but alas all of the restaurants weren’t open till 5:30. So we decided to visit the only Irish bar on the strip next to one of the restaurants we wanted to try, called The Archers.



The Archers is a small corner bar, with an inside wooden frame and hints of smoke in the air. The bar contains a few bar stools and some side tables for seating. A very no frills type of bar, serving no food just alcohol.

There were only 4 other patrons in the bar when we walked in. Sitting at the bar was an English man, probably mid 50s in age, and a Russian couple, around the same age. Another younger guy of Indian/Bangladeshi decent was at the bar too, coming in and out.

There were three workers at the bar, two females and a male, who was the manager of the bar. I walked up to the bar and the Russian guy was talking to one of the female bartenders who appeared to be Russian. He was asking her where she was from Russia. She basically ignored him and just poured the glass of vodka he was asking for. The Russian man paid for his drinks and upon getting his change asked for change in paper (he received coin pounds for change). When she said that that was his change he mumbled something incoherently and proceed to pound his shot of vodka. The bartender poured my beers and I brought them to the table where we were sitting, which was right behind the Russian couple.


Bridget and I with our beers moments before the fight erupted. The Russian man is behind my shoulder

No more than a minute later, the Russian man starts raising the back of his hand to the female bartender. The female bartender backed away and told the man to leave the bar. The male manager, a slight Indian man, about 5’5” tall and maybe 150 lbs soaking wet came over and took the man’s shot glass away and said something to the effect of “no more, you’re cut off”. The Russian man didn’t take too kindly to that, and grabbed a beer mug and smashed it on one of the taps of the bar. The Russian man was a bulking man, about 6’2” tall and easily over 250 lbs. Plus he was stumbling, incoherently drunk. He took the broken glass and started threatening the Indian male with it. In response, the Indian man broke a glass of his own and threatened the Russian man right back.

We decided at that point we should get out of harm’s way so we moved to the side. The Russian man proceed to drop his broken glass and pick up a bar stool. He cracked the bar stool on the ground, breaking the legs off. He swung the bar stool across the bar, knocking over a few more mugs in the process. Sensing this was about to get out of control, we quickly gathered our stuff and left the bar. Bridget, being the smart Irish woman she is, grabbed her beer and took it outside. My sister and I, left our beers on the table inside as chair swinging and glass breaking continued. Seeing that our full beers were sitting on the table, I ran back in, retrieved our prize possessions and ran back outside looking for anyone to call the police.

While asking the friendly Indian neighbors to call the cops we were left with blank stares. I yelled out, “can anyone call the police….anyone…policia?” met with utter silence. One person asked what’s going on in there and I said your bar is being destroyed. They shook it off like it was no big deal. It was like only gun shots may have prompted a call to the cops.

Peering back inside the bar, the Russian man went to the side of the bar to get behind the bar. The Indian man took a stool of his own to cut off his path. The Indian man held his own despite the 6 or 7 inch height difference, shouting to the male to leave. The younger Indian gentleman at the bar tried to calm the Russian down…but to no avail. The wife of course just stood there idly with no control over her husband. I mean if the guy was willing to hit a female bartender why wouldn’t he hit his wife?

In the meantime my sister decided to call the cops. The fight inside continued with another stool being broken and glass strewn about the floor. The bar manager had his back against the wall and fought off the Russian valiantly. Finally after 5 minutes of back and forth of jousting, screaming and pleading, the Russian man left the bar.

We walked back inside the bar and the bar manager was catching his breath and white as a ghost (maybe not white…but white as he could be for his skin tone). The female bartender started sweeping up the glass and picking up the broken stools. We informed them we had called the cops, which apparently didn’t go over well with them (seems like they didn’t want to be bothered). The Russian man stumbled outside and his female companion came back into the bar to get their change they apparently left on the bar! Some fuckin nerve huh? You destroy a bar, then come back in to get your change. In the states, they would have been tossed out in the streets and wouldn’t dare come back. But since this bar was “outmanned” size wize they had no muscle to enforce their own defense.

Anyway, the female bartender gave the lady back her change to avoid any further trouble. The couple stumbled away, going around the corner. I kept tabs on their whereabouts along with the other Indian gentleman who was helping to diffuse the fight. They had gone into a store next door and minutes later the cops had arrived (nothing like a timely arrival guys). We instantly directed them in the direction of the gentlemen but meanwhile it looked like nothing had happened to the bar. All of the glass was swept up, and the broken chairs were disposed with. The police were confused when they came in, but we had to point them to all of the broken glass that was swept up to even show an indication of the fight. I mean, really, I’d be like, look what that fuck did to my bar. Its like the bar manager didn’t even care.


The bar back to normal after the brawl

The cops eventually arrested and placed the Russian in the paddywagon. Apparently he had finished 7 beers at the liquor store next door by the time the cops got to him. That’s 7 beers in about 3 minutes if you’re counting at home. One cop came into the bar to take statements, and my sister, since she called the cops, was elected to go off and provide her statements.

The bar manager chose not to press charges against the Russian man. Instead of thanking us we basically got an annoyed look from them like we’re the ones who caused trouble. Well excuse us for caring, maybe you would have thought differently had your throat been slashed to your veins. You think they would have bought us a round of drinks? Nope. They just went about their normal business, albeit a bit shaken by the events that just transpired. I asked the bar manager if they have fights often and he said not really…that’s the first one he’s had in a year.

Anyway, after my sister was cross-examined by the police and gave her statement the cop told us to get out of the neighborhood by sunlight. Apparently East London is rough and tumble and not a place to venture at night.

Anyway, I guess you had to be there to witness the fight. I've seen my share of bar fights before, but never one that was such a mismatch in size. I had a camera on me and I was tempted to take pictures and video, but didn't want to have my camera confiscated as evidence. I would have tried to break up the fight as well, if I was in my own country and knew the bar. But in a foreign country trying to break up a fight between a drunk Russian and an Indian with broken mugs in their hands as weapons I was wise to stay out of it. Besides, I think America's done enough meddling in foreign countries...I don't need to add to that persona!

Stay tuned for my food reviews and other comments about my journey to the UK.

Mow Em’ Down

Howdy everyone! I’m finally back from my jaunt over to London and let me tell you I’m glad to see the sun again. I almost forgot what it looked like. I think I saw the sun for a total of 15 minutes over a 4 day period in London. No joke. Maybe the Upper Uncton Bundy curse is still on.

Anyway have some great stories to share over the next few days with you all, but wanted to comment about some of the profound differences I found between London and New York. One of the major differences I saw right away was the lack of fat people. Seriously, is there anyone in London that weighs over 200 pounds? If you switched transportation systems and placed London tubes/underground in New York half the people wouldn’t be able to fit through the doors let alone fit in the seats! It’s crazy, some of the half doors that open on the trains, I was inches away from having to carry a stick of butter with me to fit through the door (if I have to explain that reference to you, you’re reading the wrong blog!).

And then there’s the seats themselves. The padding on the chairs is a great touch and the arm rests are great. But good luck to any fat people. I think the max someone can be to squeeze into a seat on the Tube is 250 pounds. At most.


My sister on the skinny seat person tube. You think John Pinette would fit in those seats? I think not.

Anyone weighing over 250 pounds their fat would literally start spilling over the arm rests. I know, disgusting sight. But it’s the truth. But can’t say I actually saw anyone over 250 pounds on the Tube to prove my theory.


The tube is a great way to get around London, unless you’re fat

That and no one has an ass out in London. Everyone’s ass is flat as a board. Both Bridget and my sister noticed that, and then when I paid attention I noticed that too. Crazy. Maybe that’s why the Tubes are so narrow…no worries about anyone’s “badunkadunk” getting in the way.

The second difference between New York and London has to do with pedestrians. In New York, pedestrians rule the roost. We can stop traffic just by crossing the street and cause traffic jams all by ourselves by refusing to let cars pass as soon as the Walk sign appears. In London, however , pedestrians are lower on the food chain than ants. Seriously. So much as place a toe out into the street and say goodbye to your digit. You WILL get run down. Besides the whole getting used to looking the other way for traffic nonsense, there’s no stepping off the curb in London to get a head start on crossing the street. Cars DON’T slow down. They speed up. Buses, cabs, bicycles, you name it. Crossing a busy street in London is like trying to play Level 20 in Frogger…you’re inches away from being road kill. In NYC, you have a better chance because cars will at least swerve to avoid you once in a while. But in London, fughetaboutit. Even as a brazen New York who will cross in the most adverse conditions I kept my feet planted on the curb in London.


If you're confused by the signs, don't step off the curb in London

This just in...I found out through a friend there are indeed fat people in London. Found out they live in the South somewhere away from the fashion-centric inner city. They just take the roomier commuter trains and avoid the Tube at all costs. Whew...glad to know not everyone out there is a stick figure.

There's plenty more fun stories coming your way, including a bar fight between a 300 pound Russian and a 150 pound Indian so stay tuned!

Makollig Jezvahted and Levdaroum DeBahzted

So tonight Bridget & I are off to London for a weekend Jaunt to visit my sister who is studying abroad for the semester. I have never visited the U.K. before although have heard many fun stories about the island from friends and acquaintances throughout the years.

In fact this will only be my second trip across the pond (I went to Ireland in Feb 04) so I’m definitely looking forward to getting “my knickers in a twist”, eating some fried paddock & chips and checking out all that London has to offer.

Although perhaps my favorite impression of England came a few years back when I got some audio clips of pranksters who played a joke on the PA system in Heathrow. Most of my crew has heard these before…but the rest of you may not have.

The pranksters had the airport PA announcers read off names of “passengers” who they were waiting for. These passengers had “hard to pronounce” names which made the PA announcements all the more funnier. Without giving it away too much, go here to listen the audio clips. Definitely good for a few laughs. Especially the “Makollig Jezvahted and Levdaroum DeBahzted” one! I know I would have started cracking up had I heard that in the airport!

Anyway, I’m hoping to be able to post updates when I’m overseas but in case I’m too busy continuously riding around Big Ben and Parliament, the next update won’t come until Monday.

I know, I know…how can ANYONE possibly live without a What Pushes My Buttons update for 3 days??? What’s this world coming to!!! Well to make it up to you, enjoy these clips from European vacation to hold you over for a few days:


”It’s mearly a flesh wound”


”Look kids…Big Ben…Parliament”

Pump it up

So taking the subway back from my mom’s house in Brooklyn late last night I spotted something I hadn’t seen in a while. No, not someone taking a piss on the train (although come to think of it I haven’t seen that in a good few months). I saw a pair of Reebok pumps. You know the old school pumps that were all the rage back in the day.


I spy a pair of Reebok Pumps

The guy wearing them was a tall white guy who looked like a cross between Randy Johnson and Tom Hanks, complete with the Randy Johnson half mullet. There was also a lady on the train who looked like Hedda Nussbaum, without the bruises all over her face (ouch - although I think that reference is wayyyy too random for mostly anyone…but me of course!)

Anyway this guy was also wearing some highwater acid washed blue jeans so he obviously just stepped out of 1987. The only thing that could have made him a man of the “double zeros” is some Jovan Sex Appeal!


For those guys who weren't born with "sex appeal"

Cause you know nothing says “sex appeal” like some good ole Jovan Musk. I love the line: "This provocative, stimulating blend of rare spices and herbs was created by man for the sole purpose of attracting woman. At will.”

Rare spices and herbs. Nice...cause you know I've also wanted to smell like ground cumin mixed with oregano and lilacs. Come to think of it, I think I threw away every bottle of Jovan Musk I’ve ever gotten as a present. Or used it to ward off those imaginary vampires I battled as a child. I mean for christ's sake, was that the only cologne that was produced in the 80s? (Along with Stetson for Men or Brut of course). Seriously, the shit smelled like formaldehyde. I think funeral directors used it to embalm corpses. No joke.

I saw this bottle of Jovan Musk "Sex Appeal" at Walmart last weekend - which explains everything of course – because nothing says upscale cologne like a cologne sold at Wal-Mart. I resisted putting on some Sex Appeal lest I want to be followed around Wal-Mart by some lady named Betsy with bad teeth. And wouldn’t you know…right next to the Jovan Musk on the Wal-Mart shelf was – you guessed it – Stetson.



Stetson Black - Finally you too can smell like a mixture of wilting catcus and three day old chewin tobacco

Okay. Okay. I’ll stop with the Wal-Mart cracks and the knocks against Stetson and Jovan Musk. I know there's millions of guys out there who unfortunately wear the shit. Plus last I checked I wasn’t on the Blue Collar Comedy Tour and therefore don't qualify to make fun of Rednecks. Although I give Wal-Mart some props - the store does have some damn good values. Mmm…hmm…that’s right child.

Anyway, it’s been a crazy day today as I cram in some last second projects before heading off to London on Thursday night. And suddenly today has become meeting day which hasn’t really helped matters much. In fact off to another 2 hour one right now. Great...thanks Milton. Don't they know I'm busy! I have a meeting with the Bobs'!

Terrible call...just terrible

So last night I was at the Yankees game with Bridget, Paul and Juliana (thanks to Juliana for getting corporate seats for last night’s game that were only 13 rows off the field allowing me to scalp my meager bleacher seats). In typical Yankees fashion they failed to score any runs with runners in scoring position, leaving the bases loaded once and leaving 6 runners in scoring position for the game. Just one hit in that situation would have yielded at least one run – but clutch this team is not.

Anyway, they actually got a decent pitching performance from their rookie starter Matt DeSalvo, who went 7 strong innings, only giving up 1 run on 3 hits (2 of which came in the first inning). Nursing a 2-1 lead in the 8th, Kyle Farnsworth came on to pitch. With two outs, Jose Vidro hit a cheap ground ball up the middle just past the reach of Jeter. Willie Bloomquist came on as a pinch runner for Vidro. What happened next will go down as one of the worst calls in major league history – and I was there to witness it first hand.

Bloomquist tried to steal second. Posada’s throw was on line and Robinson Cano applied the tag in plenty of time to tag out the stealing Bloomquist. However the umpire called him safe.

Safe.

Take a look at this picture.



How many feet was he out by? Three? Four? And he was called safe.

You can view the video recap of the game to see the replays

Granted the game is played at full speed, but still, it was plainly obvious to everyone in the stadium that he was out by a mile. Even using the cardinal rule of “the ball beating the player” would have been excuse enough to call him out. But come on dude that wasn’t a hard one to make. It wasn’t even close to being a “bang bang” play. The umpire, Gerry Davis, flat out blew the call. Mr. Davis will now go down in infamy as making one of the worst umpiring calls in recent memory. Right there along with the infamous Don Denkinger call in game 6 of the 1985 World Series between the Cardinals and the Royals that ultimately cost the Cardinals the game and the series.



There’s also a famous portrait out there that shows an ump making a safe call at first when the player was out by a few feet. It wasn’t a Normal Rockwell, but something similar. Despite searching this “wealth of information” we call the “internet”, alas I can’t find shit on it. But I used to have the damn picture so I know it exists. Maybe I’ll have to dig it up tonight at my parent’s house.

Anyway, back to the game. Much to my surprise, Don Mattingly, who was filling in as manager due to a suspended Joe Torre, didn’t come out to argue the call. Cano hopped away thinking he made the tag but didn’t raise a fuss. The call was that bad it was shocking. But the Yankees lack any fire and passion this season so they didn’t argue the call. If I were them I’d be hopping mad. I’d scream in the umps face. Make him throw me out. But nope, they went along with their “gentlemanly play”. If that was Paul O’Neill out there he would’ve argued until they carried him off with police escorts. Same with Billy Martin or Lou Pinella. But nope…this team has a much passion as a quilting night at a senior citizens home.


You know damn well Zimmer would’ve protested the call last night, helmet and all

Granted, the call was completely terrible, but you got to score more runs than 2, especially with the offense the Yankees have.

But the game will be remembered for the bad call. Even if it’s “only May” and the call was not made in a crucial playoff or World Series game thus it may not get the attention it deserves. But it should. Because it should go down as one of the worst baseball calls of all time.

Thankfully for my own sanity I had the salvation of a Starbucks Iced Cinnamon Dolce Latte this morning to put me in a better mood. That, along with an Apple Fritter, made my morning much cheerier thanks to the impending sugar rush that came along with the meal. Oh Iced Cinnamon Dolce Latte with Whipped Cream, how do I love thee, let me count the ways!