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!

No more Freedom Fries!

So with the news over the weekend that conservative, and pro-American Nicolas Sarkozy was elected as the new French President, I guess it’s time we all finally say goodbye to the Freedom Fry.

If you remember, freedom fries were concocted after the French refused to show any sympathy or support for the US after 9/11. Many irate U.S. congressmen decided that the French were so appauling by their non-support that we could no longer refer to anything with French in its name.





Everything and anything French had become taboo.

French fries became freedom fries

French toast became freedom toast

French poodles were massacred by the dozens. Those French poodles who escaped the massacres were called Freedom Poodles

French dressing was banned and all containers containing French dressing were relabeled Thousand Island dressing (since half of American citizens can’t tell the damn difference between the two anyway).

French braids were banned. Anyone wearing French braids was sent to the gallows to be hung

French kissing was banned. Anyone caught French kissing had their tongues sliced off.

French Dips were aptly renamed “Roast Beef sandwiches dipped in an American made gravy”.

The movie French Kiss was banned from all video store shelves.


Even Meg Ryan felt the wrath of the Anti-French movement

Even Vidal Sassoon products were boycotted and his salons were torched. It was a bad time in American culture as we basically committed genocide against anything that had French in its name or even sounded remotely French. But now that France has basically taken a tumble in the past few years, with high unemployment rates, a struggling economy and racial tensions running rampant, the French people actually used Democracy to dictate a change. And their voices were heard loud and clear by electing Sarkozy – a pro-American politician who now faces the daunting task of turning his country around.

So citizens of France: We forgive you for basically turning your backs on us after we saved your asses in WWII. We forgive you for not willing to send any of your troops or offer assistance against our “war on terror”. We even forgive you for giving us Tony Parker who basically stole our hottest American girl away from us (Eva Longoria). We do not forgive you however for Frederic Weis, who inexplicably was the Knicks draft choice in 1999 and who refused to play basketball in the NBA thus causing the Knicks to waste a pick. The fact that you even produced a 7 footer in France is incredibly shameful considering how “soft” your country has become. I mean he should have been ruthless on the court, like a Napoleon or Marie Antoinette. Instead he was softer than Charmin. Don’t believe us? Well just watch Vince Carter basically jump OVER him during the 2000 Olympics when the U.S. played France:



Anyway, except for Mr. Weis, we forgive you French people. On behalf of all American citizens living on the mainland and abroad, I’m happy to officially announce our truce with France and the abolition of the Freedom Fry once and for all!

Viva la French Fry!

Viva la France!

Also want to send out happy birthday wishes to Tom and to Jason. Or in Jason’s case it’s: Taredartzet shnorhavor!

Part of a Nutritious Breakfast

Growing up we all saw those “nutritious breakfast” commercials. Where the mother and children are sitting at the kitchen table and the children have a whole smorgasbord of food in front of him to start their day off right. You know the whole “part of a nutritious breakfast” plugs that the cereal companies normally advertised. The ones that contained:

The bowl of cereal

The slice of toast

The scrambled eggs

The glass of OJ

The apple or orange

The occasional slice of bacon

I have to say as I child I tried to have a nutritious breakfast each day before school. Normally it was a bowl of cereal since that was the quickest and easiest. But it wasn’t your healthy cereal, like Corn Flakes or Bran Flakes or Raisin Bran or Chex. Nope, my fat ass wanted the Golden Grahams, the Cinnamon Toast Crunch, the Crunchberries, the Count Chocula or the Frosted Flakes that were always being advertised. Two scoops of raisins? Wheat and corn double sided Chex? Nigga please. More like 10 scoops of sugar for me. The more sugar, the better! Or if I was running late and needed to run out of the door quickly, the pack of sugar laded Pop Tarts more than did the trick.



Cereals such as Fruit Brute and Post Mortems are all part of your child's nutritious breakfast

On weekends? Well my friends, that was time for cholesterol heaven. My weekend breakfast courtesy of my dad or grandmother was either fried salami and eggs or corned beef hash and eggs or butter laden French toast. All the healthy stuff that sits in your stomach all day never to be digested.


Nothing says healthy breakfast like a side serving of Corned Beef Hash

But these days who has time for healthy and nutritious breakfasts? I mean most of us are on the go, eating whatever is quickest and most convenient. Myself included. My breakfast mostly consists of a deli bought egg & cheese or toasted bialy/bagel. Or if I’m in a rush, the cup of tea and donut/buttered roll from the street vendor. Hardly the breakfast of champions, I know. Hell, even Rachel Ray herself, the queen of the quick meal, now endorses Dunkin Donuts, who basically make a living promoting breakfast on the go.

So the other day I actually got up early enough to make myself a “nutritious” breakfast. Shocking, even for myself. But since I’m the “omelet master” thanks to my days being a short-order cook at a Bagel shop up by Marist, I can whip up breakfast fairly quickly. So I whipped up a one-egg yolk/two egg white omelet (less yolks means less of that cholesterol nonsense everyone’s worried about these days) with cheddar cheese. For my “meat” requirement I sizzled up two slices of South Beach Diet approved Turkey Bacon. And I even was able to add in the quintessential breakfast “must-haves” in the way of Soy Chocolate milk and a healthy glass of OJ.

I could’ve filmed one of those “healthy breakfast” commercials with the meal I whipped up

But unfortunately I eat these types of breakfasts too few and far between. But I take comfort knowing that I’m not alone. I did a Google search this am on nutritious breakfast. And I found some good ones I’d like to share with you today. After all, wasn’t Friday always “show and tell” day at school? Although I think they banned show & tell in my elementary school once one kid pulled down his pants and said this is what my daddy told me to show the girls to impress them. Ok, maybe the kid just pulled down his pants and didn’t say anything. But either way, show & tell was banned ok??? Anyway, here are some delicious breakfast ideas sure to get your day off to a fast moving start!

1. Everything you could ever need to get your day off to a great start. Once you've filled your stomach with eggs, bacon, sausage and the all-important tator tots, then you can move onto the glazed scone, muffins and french toast sticks. This my friends is what breakfast is all about!


2. Stack em high and stack em proud! Nothing says "get me ready for a light day on my feet" more than a short stack of pancakes. Add the extra syrup for a sugar rush and you're ready to pound the pavement!


3. Sunny side up egg, toast, 2 sausage links, 2 slices of bacon. Oh hell yeah - that's breakfast! But wait...don't forget about the grilled tomato, the vegetable puree, the homefries patty and the sauteed mushrooms! Nothing says breakfast like mushrooms!


4. Umm....yeah...not sure where this fits into the traditional American breakfast of carbs and cholesterol. Fruit? That's for wussies! Portion control? What's that? Everything about this breakfast is a big thumbs down. Except for the fish. Besides, what's more quicker and convenient than chewing on a raw fish for breakfast! Plus it fills your daily need for fish oils!


5. Now, that's more like it! Eggs benedict! That quintessential American breakfast. The creamy, fat filled Hollandaise sauce. The indigestion-bearing Canadian Bacon. The poached eggs and English Muffin. Yum-O! Add in a side of home fries and if you must, some melon, and my friends you're ready to take on the world and go shopping for that skin-tight bathing suit for the summer! Make sure to down a few Bloody Mary's before you go so you're extra-skinny when you try on that two-piece or that speedo!

Crazy Train

So after playing racquetball for a few hours last night down at the NYHRC on Whitehall Street, I headed back uptown on the 5 train. I was able to secure a seat on the train although it was semi-crowded for 10pm. At Fulton Street more passengers came on the train, including a very bizarre interracial couple. The white guy had big bushy blond hair with a pink headband that had a large metallic reflector on it. The black girl had big dreadlocked hair that was pushed back by a white headband (unfortunately no reflectors for her). At first glance I didn’t know if they were people or Fraggle Rock characters.


The couple on the train looked very “Fraggle-esque”

While everyone has different fashion sense, and certain this was one of those couples, the male was holding something unusual on the train - a stuffed Panda Bear. Its not too often you see a grown man with a Panda Bear on a train, but then again this is NYC, you see just about anything here. I would have been more impressed if the panda was real.


I hope the Panda Bear paid his fare too

Anyway, another young male (early 20s) sits across from me. He looked to be exhausted as he slumped over to put his head on his bookbag. There was a guy sandwiched between him and another gentlemen who was getting squashed by the young male who was slumped over in his seat. The guy who was getting sandwiched kept clearing his throat to let the young man know that he was basically two inches away from giving him a lap dance. The guy looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders in an “I feel bad for you dude” sorta way. Anyway, the train pulls out of Grand Central as this young male keeps slumping over. As we make the turn coming out of Grand Central all of the sudden the young male pukes. Yes, he puked. And wouldn’t you know, the vomit splashes across the aisle and some of it splashes onto my duffel bag that was sitting between my legs.

Are you kidding? I look at the youth and he was pale as a ghost. I get up from my seat and stand over by the door. Luckily I had some tissues on me so I could wipe my bag. A few other people, including the guy being squashed left their seats and got away from Mt. Vesuvius. Fortunately he didn’t throw up again, and got off the train at 59th. The same guy who was being squashed earlier looked at me and laughed. Actually a few people were trying not to laugh. After initially being mad, I just shook my head and smiled. Because I too have puked on the subway before (although it was at 3am and I was completely fucking hammered). Plus I know he probably didn’t mean too. It’s just my luck that he happened to puke in front of me.

I guess that’s what I get for taking a picture of the Panda Bear on the train. Apparently the bear didn’t like to be photographed and summoned this youth to puke in front of me.

So Mr. Panda Bear, if you’re reading, I apologize for taking your picture. I know that paparazzi stalk you everywhere you go and now you’re starting to get even. You win. No more pictures.

Tap That Ass!

So as discussed on this blog before, I run into some interesting characters on my way to the subway in the am through the EHP (East Harlem Projects). This am was no different as I passed by a group of young men and women (probably in their early 20’s) hanging out outside one of the public schools on 102nd and 2nd. As I’m walking past I hear one of the male youths tell the group:

“Yo, yo, check this. Last night I bent that bitch over and pow – I tapped that ass”. The young man made a slapping motion with his hand to emphasize his point.

The group started laughing and hollering and I turned my head towards them as I walked by and laughed. The guy who was telling the animated story then says:

“Yo – even the white dude knows what I’m talking about. Kapow”. Followed by more laughs. I just shook my head and laughed and kept walking as he kept telling the rest of the story. (For the record I ain’t know nothin’ bout no ass tappin!)

I guess its just one of those things where it’s funnier when you hear it first hand, but nonetheless I got a nice laugh out of it. Unfortunately its been about the only thing I could laugh about today since it looks like a tornado hit my desk this morning. That and I have a small novel to work through in the way of an 18 page RFP from one of our prospective advertisers. Seriously, 18 pages for a request for proposal! It’s not like we’re talking about bidding for the Olympics here! (although only those in the media/advertising space will understand what I’m talking about).

Anyway I’m disappointed no Vinny Goombats sightings at the Rangers game last night. Although my “friend” was probably too busy banging Jason Kidd’s ex-wife while the team was in Toronto last night. Actually I’m gonna go out on a limb and almost guarantee that’s where he was last night. Scumbag.

On a happier note, I’m glad the Yankees decided to score some runs for a change last night. Although it figures that Hughes pulls his hamstring in the 7th in the middle of a no-hitter. I have a feeling its gonna be that kind of season for the Yanks pitching staff. So Mr. Torre, Mr. Cashman – if you’re reading – I’m a lefty. I can hit high 70s on the radar gun. And I throw strikes. No movement. Just straight “fat” pitches smack down the middle. I mean if Chase Wright can be a major leaguer, why can’t I!

He'd rather be fishing

So apparently a bit of controversy surrounded the NFL Draft this past weekend in NYC. No, no one got shot outside of a club. And surprisingly no Bengals players got arrested. Instead the controversy stemmed over one of the top draft picks, Joe Thomas, who wasn’t present at Radio City Music Hall on NFL Draft Day.

Let me explain a little. Thomas, who was regarded as one of the top offensive lineman in the nation coming out of college, was projected in many mock drafts to get selected by one of the top 5 teams. Which means (for those who are not familiar with the process) he was in for a big pay day. As in a multi-million dollar pay day.

Imagine for a second that your new boss was about to hire you and make that announcement to the world. Imagine that the media was omnipresent at that event and the whole world was watching as your new boss announced that you were a new member of their organization. And imagine that you stood to make upwards of at least $20 million dollars with your new company. You’d be pretty psyched right? And you’d probably show up for your first day or “orientation” at work to have the media take your picture and bask in the glory of the announcement.

Well what if you had a previous commitment that day? Say a family obligation or a tradition you took part in every year. Would you renege on that obligation because of a big announcement to the world in which you were set to make millions of dollars with your new job?

I guess that my friends is the million dollar question! (no pun intended)

Anyway, this is exactly with Joe Thomas had to face this weekend. Instead of coming to NYC to the NFL Draft to bask in the spotlight of the announcement that the Cleveland Browns had selected him as the 3rd overall pick in the draft, Mr. Thomas stuck to his previous plans.

Which was a fishing trip.

With his dad.


Thomas not only caught a keeper, he just became about $20 million richer

Awesome stuff. I commend Joe for sticking to his original plans for that day. When the Browns came calling to tell Joe that they were considering taking him with their selection and to come to New York to Draft, Thomas said thanks, but no thanks. Which is very rare in this day and age of greed and instant gratification. Athletes more often than not will take the money over everything, including family. Most, you can argue, need the money to help support their families. Others would disown their own families now that they were rich and famous.

Granted it was very weird as an observer to see someone get selected at the top of a draft and not be present on stage to shake hands with his new bosses and hold up a jersey with the number one on it. But knowing the background story and seeing him on his boat fishing (they had a camera crew follow him that day) made me smile. Not just because it’s a great plug we can make for Field & Stream and Outdoor Life on the popularity of fishing. But because here was a guy who got it.

Tradition won over notoriety.

You can argue both sides of the equation. You could say that he was disrespectful to his new organization by not showing up for the “first day” on the job. You can say that as a professional athlete he has an obligation to represent his new team on its biggest stage. And partly, you would be correct. However it’s hard to argue with someone selecting time with their family in an annual tradition, which happens far too rarely in this world of crackberries and PDAs. Plus don’t you think some of the players there rather had been somewhere else on Saturday? Don’t believe me? Just ask Brady Quinn.


You think Brady Quinn would have rather been fishing than being subjected to hours of sitting there watching team after team pass him by?