Archive for November, 2006

Ho Ho Ho!!

In response to the question “What’s a gal with too much time on her hands, some watercolors , and a pack of Worst Case Scenario Handbook postcards to do, anyway?” The answer is “Make Christmas cards.”

If I had a line of real cards, I might call them Seasonally Affected Cards or something else hilarious…but since I don’t, you can consider these an offshoot of my unconventional sense of whimsy. Or something.

And so, lucky friends, if your kiss is on my list you will be lucky enough to get one of the very special, very circa ’99 cards I have made this year.





Nom de Plume

Perhaps it’s because I’m uncouth enough to dispose of my writing implements when they are no longer useful. Perhaps I am just of a lower caste and was not allowed in on this secret place that, upon entry, is realized to be mightier than a thousand swords. Whatever the reason, I am now privy to the information that there is a store in New York City called:


What goes on in such a place? I can only imagine…

(Fade out on reality)


“*Cough* I been shot! Doc, I’m inking everywhere! You gotta help me! Oh God!”


“Calm down, sir, just calm down. I’m applying pressure to the wound to stop the inking, you’re going to be fine. Just stay calm and tell me what happened.”


“It was like this, see. My wife. She caught me. I was runnin’ around bein’ stupid…I’m a man, doc. A man wit’ needs! So’s *cough* I was wit’ my secretary and we was in my offfffice…foolin’ arouuuund…and my wife. She caught us. She shot me and who knows what she did ta my secretary!”


“She caught you with your someone else’s ink?”


“Yeah. Am I gonna live? Doc tell me! I gotta know!”


“I’m gonna be honest, it’s not looking good.”


“WHERE IS HE? Where is that nib-dipping, lying son-of-a-Bic?”


“Ma’am! I’m going to have to ask you to step aside, this is highly unacceptable and your husband is in an extremely fragile state right now!”


“FRAGILE? Ha! That is a laugh and a half! I’ll tell you who’s fragile. ME! And my SON! This guy only thinks with his nib, never caring about anyone else. I’m not sad about what I did doc, and I want to relish the time he has left by watching him die! Ahhhhh HAHAHAHAHA!”


“Hi Daddy!”


“Ma’am, I understand that you’re upset but this is highly inappropriate, I’m going to have to ask that you and your son please remove yourselves from the ICU and wait outside.”


“Amber-Lou, you know yiz the only one for me. I just got caught up and one thing led to anothiz and I…I love y–”



“Daaaaaaaddddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, nooooooo!!!!!!”


“I’m sorry. We did all we could. He’s gone.”


“I’m here to read the last rites. Sorry I’m so late, someone parked in my spot.”


Be: Present

My birthday is less than a month away and I don’t think it’s too early to start talking about the Amazon Wish List. It sits tight all year over in the right-hand margin, just waiting to be updated and viewed and this year, I know this will disappoint you all, there is no 20 lb. wheel of cheese on it. But there are plenty of other gifts you can get me. You can even pool your money together to get me one big gift, as I have seen to it that there are a few of those on there. But you can also get me a bunch of little small things, there are some of those too.

What do I do if there are gifts that I want that are not on Amazon? Why, I post them here. Now. For you. To Consider. Putting on your credit card. Now. For your (or was it my?) delight, here is a smattering of all the adorable things you can choose from:






New addition, I just found this thing of beauty on the Target site….what house is complete without an illuminated beverage fountain? Perhaps a better question is, will it hold liquid chocolate?



Glennis and I are girl-music loving girly girls. If we had known each other during my Ani DiFranco-Tori Amos-following high school days, we would have embraced our sensitive, girl power selves and cried into our hemp necklaces and rape whistles. Now we just do the New York equivalent of that, which is whine on IM and go shopping before heading out to see a music show. We saw the incomparably adorable Jenny Lewis a few weeks ago and this past Monday we saw the ever cheeky Lady Sovereign at Bowery Ballroom. She seemed irritated with the audience, but for the right reasons. Lame, quiet audiences do suck. New York should be more interesting. But instead of giving a bland performance because she was annoyed, she told us that we needed to step it up a little. At one point she even fake passed out onstage and after a moment of the audience milling around waiting for her to get up, she was like “I could have been dead and none of you cared!” But really, we were just too excited to hear “Hoodie”, so you can’t blame us.

My favorite part of the night was when Glennis and I realized that even though doors were at 8pm, Lady Sov wouldn’t be going on till 11. So bright and early we realize we have our pick of almost any seat in the house, so we head to the tables on the balcony. There was a couple at the very first table toward the front, and we asked a guy at the second table back if we could share it with him, and he was nice enough to say yes. At about 9pm, a security guard came to inform the couple at Table 1 that, regretfully, they had to move because that table was reserved for an agent. They protested for good reason – there was no sign on the table, they were the first people to arrive and deserved a seat more than “people who got there later” (at which point they actually point at Glennis and me, and we start mouthing a fake conversation back and forth so we couldn’t possibly acknowledge or feel guilt for their situation because we kinda wanted our seats). So Table 1 guy asks to speak to a manager. He’s annoyed but his girlfriend is, how you say? Superannoyed. The security guard had felt bad about the situation but the manager…not so much. Table 1 guy said “I get that we have to move but what are you going to do for us? We want free drinks.” And girlfriend is chiming in about having worked on her feet all day, blah blah. Which is when the human explosion of a manager started screaming at them to get up and pelted them with a barrage of interesting comments like “This is not Macy’s so the customer is not always right!” and “Don’t even GO there. Oh, you WENT there? Ok well now I’m bringin’ you BACK”. Which, although completely unwarranted, did the job and even made Table 1 Couple cower with fear and apologies. The agent didn’t even show up until after 11 and stayed for 4 songs. So while it is a horribly unfair situation for Table 1, maybe karma will come back and give them presents. In the meantime, enjoy the picture I took from balcony jail.

My very first digital picture taken at any show ever.

Dis-Comfort Diner

Things I don’t like:
Making people feel bad
Being wrong
Admitting I’m wrong
Competitive people who want to prove they are better than you
Feeling uncomfortable

Things the show “Throwdown with Bobby Flay” represent:
Making people feel bad
Bobby Flay is never wrong
Bobby Flay never admitting he is wrong
A competitive chef who wants to prove he is better than you
The apotheosis of feeling uncomfortable


I love food TV – Jacques Pepin and PBS, the Food Network and Iron Chef America ,and I will even admit to watching Top Chef, as you know. But enduring Bobby Flay’s latest endeavor is 9,000 times worse than watching Katie Lee Joel try to master the English language. (I know, I know, poor Katie was put out of her misery and there’s a new leggings-wearing sheriff in town, but I will always have a soft spot for making fun of the defenseless wife-of-Billy).

But now:Throwdown. Ugh. The premise of this piece of flung monkey poo is that an unknown but talented chef is given a “Food Network special” because they have gained recognition in their food field, be it BBQ, baking or whatever. The fact that they think they are getting their own special is why they agree to be on the show. Assy Move #1. They are given the opportunity to talk about themselves and what their particular skills are, and the show is to culminate in a party or event where their cooking is shown off to friends and family – a supportive environment but, should something go wrong, quite an embarrassing one.

It is at this event that Assy Move #2 is made when Flay ambushes them, challenging them to a cook-off — may the best chef win. HAHAHA! You thought this show was about YOU, you stupidhead! You were wrong! It is about me being better than you! I have red hair and I compensate by being mean! HAHAHA! When I was a kid people called me Booby Gay! HAHA! I’m lonely.

Bobby thinks he is the best chef, is the thing. He just spent a week preparing for this ambush, and he is excited to make formerly happy people full of that bad, I-might-get-diarrhea feeling. If the underdog refuses, there goes their shot at national exposure. If they agree, they are pitting themselves against a famous asshole. At least if they lose the cook-off, they win the decent-human-being off. I’ve watched several epsiodes of the show, and it’s never been pleasant. But the least pleasant episode is the one I watched this weekend. (Note: I don’t think this episode was brand new, so this could be somewhat outdated). The episode featured the man who founded NYC bakery The Doughnut Plant. He is a Hare Krishna from the looks of his ponytail. So I will call the episode Krishna Kruellers.

Doughnut Krishna founded his company from nothing, just making doughnuts in his basement and then perfecting his recipes. So he is exuberant and normal at the beginning of his “Food Network special”. When Bobby shows up and challenges him in front of his friends and business associates, Doughnut Krishna is visibly shaken and despite agreeing to the challenge, freaks out to his partner and does the whole hand over the camera “Do NOT tape this” move we know and love from watching so many Real Worlders get upset because they have Lyme Disease or are dating a producer. He is, frankly, pissed off. And, in a delicious turn of events, Bobby is the one who feels bad and it is so obvious that he must lie to us to make it seem ok. “This is fuunnn?”

He bumbles his way through the rest of the episode talking about how his doughnuts are going to kick Doughnut Krishna’s hole, but not a single shot for the rest of the show implies “Fun”. Doughnut Krishna is shown scowling, looking menacing, and when Bobby offers an olive branch in the form of a jelly doughnut, Donut Krishna insults it. The coup de grace of Krishna Kruellers came in jelly form when Doughnut Krishna went to shake Bobby’s hand, but not before filling his own hand with the insides of Bobby’s creation, and he squished blackberry jam into Bobby’s hand. “HAHAHA…fun?”

Finally the judges, two of NYPD’s finest, award Doughnut Krishna’s Tres Leches cake doughnut Best in Show and the horrible, humiliating discomfort is brought to an end. At least, it’s over until the next time Bobby chooses to make innocent people who make a respectable (but not Food Network famous) living feel bad about themselves. He may be a chef, but really, that’s what he does best.