Saturday, November 25, 2006

Christmas in Baltimore, 2006

The first Saturday following Thanksgiving means more than just the opening day to hunting season, my friends. It means that it is now officially Christmastime in Baltimore. To celebrate -- if that is, in fact, the right word -- I took my family to the famed Miracle on 34th Street. For those unfamiliar, the Miracle is the tradition, started some 47 years ago by folks who wanted to raise the cost of electricity, whereby the residents of a certain street of Baltimore row houses ("34th Street") try their best to attract aliens to land on Earth.


These are a few lo-res shots of the environs that I took with my camera-phone before it was confiscated by the police:


LOTS OF DRUNK BALTIMORISTAS AWAITING THE MOMENT OF TRUTH




YOUR MIND ON DRUGS




SANTA WEARS EYEGLASSES (TO HELP HIM TELL WHO ARE THE JEWS)




XMAS IN BALTIMORE MEANS BIG LIPS AND DUCKS ON LIGHT BULBS




DON'T FORGET YOUR KING-SIZED JESUS TOTE BAG




PEACE, HON




BIG FLAMINGO SHITS A BUICK





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Saturday, November 18, 2006

There Will Always Be a SUNY-Buffalo, Part I

This Post is written for intellectual purposes only and is not intended to encourage anybody to gamble all of their savings on college football. Pro football is a MUCH safer investment.


DATELINE: SOMEWHERE IN WISCONSIN, November 18, 2006.

I should have told you all about this beforehand, but for my lead pipe cinch of the week* I returned to *MY* alma mater: SUNY-Buffalo** which, studies show, is still located in Buffalo, NY.

Past plays showed that the Bulls have NEVER failed to win ATS*** when playing a top-15 ranked regional opponent on the road in November following a road loss to a below-.500 conference opponent.

And this week, as always under those circumstances, my Bulls rose to the challenge.

It would have been easy for an uneducated football fan to come to the conclusion that the Bulls sucked -- especially after they had the chance to take the lead, down only 7-3 with about 4 minutes left in the 1st half, and having 1st and goal at the Badgers' 4 yard line**** ... and then somehow managing not only NOT to get 6, but also missing the 25-yard chip shot field goal.

But the Bulls did not suck. They did the opposite of sucking. The Bulls defense held tough, giving up a mere 28 more points*****, with the Badgers stealing from the Bulls a tight, 35-3 win.

Sadly, the respect the Badgers had for the Bulls was something less than impressive. Here's a post-game quote by a Badgers' defensive back: "It'd really be an insult to us if [Buffalo] got in the end zone."

To which I'd respond: "Hey, cornerback: shut your fucking pie-hole. Next time, save your trash-talking for when you COVER the spread, fuckface. Buffalo plus 38, baby!"



FOOTNOTES

* - "Lead pipe cinch" - A term well-known to professional gamblers which, roughly translated, means "I really, really hope I win this bet, oh please Lord let me win this bet and I swear I'll never ever place another bet ever again really." The phrase is believed to be etymologically derived from the world of plumbing, where there is a water-tight crimped seal (a "lead pipe cinch") that helps flush vomit down the toilet after you've consumed 14 margaritas and three Jack Daniels shots and absolutely sworn to your Lord that if you survive until the morning you would never ever take another sip of alcohol ever again really.

** - "SUNY-Buffalo" - State University of New York at Buffalo. Historians will note that for some reason, while every other state university system seems to have figured out how to field a competitive college football team, New York hasn't.

*** - "ATS" means "Against the spread."

**** - The 4-yard line is 12 feet away from the end zone. In terms my readers would understand: 12-feet is approximately the distance you are from the McDonald's drive-through window when there is one car ahead of you.

***** - To put this in context: I know that a number of my readers have more points than that on their respective driver's license records.



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Friday, November 17, 2006

A Brief History of Cheese

Imagine, if you will, a world without happiness. A world where the sky remains grey and overcast, and where one can barely tell night from day. A world where despots rule, and where each individual is consumed with a tangible hopelessness that permeates one's solemn soul.

Imagine, my friends, a world without cheese.

THE BEGINNING OF CHEESE

I quote from the Bible (Cassiopians 14:1 - 3)[*]:

"For it came to pass that, midway through the fifth day, as sayeth the Lord, that ... Well, it wasn't quite midway. It was more like late morning, I guess, somewhere around 10:45 a.m. or so. In any event, it was after the Lord did the whole creation of animals thing, but at some point before Eve ate the apple, that the Lord created breasts.

"And they were good. And they came in pairs, and that was pretty cool, too.

"But, because they weren't human breasts, they weren't all that good. I mean, they weren't bad -- they could be better -- but remember that it was before Eve, so they were animal breasts. I'm not sure what kind of animal and, given that this was waaaaay before the Internet, I'm not sure it makes a difference as to what kind of animals had breasts. But they were big, luscious animally breasts. And, as I said, they were good.

"And fromst thou luscious animally breasts, sayeth the Lord, cometh milk. And it, too, was good.

"But thy milk spilleth over and, upon thy rock and heated by thy sun, cometh forth cheese. And there was much rejoicing."

THE MIDDLE AGES

By 1407, almost every educated country on the planet had developed its own unique variety of cheese (sorry, Sweden, you didn't develop your own cheese until the 19th century). French cheese ("fromage" or, literally, "from age" referring to the fact that the first French cheeses were found under the armpits of elderly women[**]) was wildly regarded as the world's finest, thus explaining why many French men of the time could be found lovingly stroking the udders of French cattle. At least, I hope that's the reason why French men spent so much time lovingly stroking their cattle.

MODERN TIMES

Today, most grocery stores sell many different types of cheeses which are easily distinguished by their names and by the number of days that they are beyond their "Best If Consumed By" dates. Here is a handy chart to help you with your basic cheese identification skills:

IF A GIVEN CHEESE IS
THIS MANY DAYS BEYOND
ITS "BEST IF CONSUMED BY" DATE .... IT IS CALLED THIS:
1-3 days ................................... American cheese
4-7 days ................................... Cheddar cheese
8-14 days .................................. New York "Hard" Cheddar
15-21 days ................................ Vermont "Aged" Cheddar
22-31 days ................................ Colby
32-90 days ............................... Cheese "Spread"
91-180 days .............................. Processed Cheese Spread
181-365 days ............................. Gouda
1 to 3 years .............................. French Gouda
3 to 7 years .............................. Camembert
7 years to 15 years ...................... Brie
15 years to 75 years ..................... Cream Cheese
More than 75 years ...................... Cottage Cheese

THE FUTURE OF CHEESE

The future of cheese is exciting and unpredictable. Who knows? Maybe we'll discover Space Cheese ... or Undersea Cheese ... or New Jersey "Hard" Cheddar. The only thing for certain is that today's American Cheese will become tomorrow's Cheddar which, eventually, will become the Cottage Cheese eaten by our children's children. And it doesn't get any better than that.



[*]The Book of Cassiopians was officially edited out of the Bible pursuant to the Third Ecumenical Congress in Lourdes, circa 454 A.D. It was a controversial decision, which pissed off a bunch of the priests and cardinals who were in attendance at the Third Ecumenical Congress, although some have subsequently speculated that the priests and cardinals were actually pissed off because the buffet ran out of lamb before noon.

[**]To this day, elderly women in France are regarded as important members of Cheese Society and, as such, the minimum age to be voted French Cheese Queen has been raised to 78.




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Tuesday, November 14, 2006

SUPER BATTLES, PART I

I've always been obsessed with clashes of the titans. You know, debating such important topics as who would win: A grizzly bear or a pack of pit bulls? A badger or wolverine? A great white shark or a swarm of killer bees (if killer bees could swim)? Herman Munster or Gomez Adams? Samantha (from Bewitched) or Jeannie (from I Dream of Jeannie)? [Hold on a second. I just want to ponder that last one for a little longer.]

Okay, back.

Maxwell Smart or Inspector Clouseau? I could go on all day.

Well, those particular battles may remain unresolved, but here are some others that I've stumbled upon recently:



SUPERMAN v. BATMAN



Superman Vs. Batman - video powered by Metacafe




OCTOPUS v. SHARK





CROCODILE v. TIGER



Tiger VS Crocodile - video powered by Metacafe




ELEPHANT v. 7 LIONS



Elephant VS 7 Lions - video powered by Metacafe





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Saturday, November 11, 2006

Rick Majerus is Not a Big Gay Guy

Okay, I know that I have the maturity level of a 12-year-old, but watch Steve Lavin's (the guy on the left's) reaction during this interview. Every time I see it, it makes me smile.


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Saturday, November 04, 2006

Out of the Mouth of Babes

Recently I received the following email from Beth W., who is the wife of my good buddy Mark F.:


Olivia [their 4-year-old daughter] and I went to the library and she decided to "read" the titles of the Maisy books by looking at the covers - pretty logical. One "title" Olivia saw at the library today and very loudly announced was this: "Maisy drives a hooker!"


Maisy Rides a Crane was the actual title.


I was so proud of MYSELF for not losing it right there. Unfortunately, I DID ask her, "What did you say?"


After she repeated it I said, "Oh, that is a crane, Sweetie. 'Maisy Rides a Crane' is the title."


Upon receiving Beth's email, my mind immediately locked on to a story involving my own daughter, Phoebe.


When Phoebe was first learning to read about 3 years ago, she practiced by sounding out many of the words she saw around her until, by context, she'd "guess" what the word was. Results were less than perfect. For example, one night we were sitting at the dinner table. In front of me was a 2-liter bottle of Pepsi. Phoebe saw the brand name on the bottle and began sounding it out, one letter at a time. "P. P. P. Pe. Pe. Pep." Suddenly she stopped, looked at the 2-liter bottle, then looked at me and made her guess with complete confidence: "Beer!"


I thought this was so damned insightful (the idea that it must be beer because it was big and in front of Daddy) that I immediately left the dinner table and shot out an email to various friends and family recounting the story. My buddy Bill R. obviously was at his computer when it arrived and it only took him about 5 minutes to respond in kind.


"That's nothing," Bill shot back. "Last night, me, Lisa [his wife], Henry [his 10-year-old son] and a friend of Henry's went to dinner at a local restaurant. During dinner, Henry casually mentioned that he hated the New York Yankees. I, of course, was pleased [Bill, as discussed elsewhere in this Blog, is a Red Sox fan], but Lisa was mortified.


"Henry," Lisa gently reprimanded him. "We don't use the word 'hate' in this family. 'Hate' is the worst word."

"Without missing a beat, and with complete seriousness, Henry's friend spoke up: 'I thought 'motherfucker' was the worst word.'"



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