I grew up in a great beach town in Southern California, and anyone that knows me (or has been to my home or office) knows that I am very nostalgic for stuff back home. Luckily, a woman at my firm's L.A. office lives in the town next to mine, which is part of the South Bay (south Santa Monica Bay, that is).
The significance of that is that like me, this woman loves to read our local weekly paper, The Beach Reporter. And with the advent of interoffice mail, I get it the Beach Reporter on my desk once a week, and can keep up with whatever's going on back home. It's like any local paper -- pictures of high school sports, ads for movies, real estate, etc. One of my favorite things about the Beach Reporter is the weekly "Crime Report." Luckily, the South Bay is super safe (to the point where our local police are what the Big Lebowski would refer to as "fascist" [stay out of my nice beach community], but that's a Blogtari for another day all in itself.). So the Crime Report is hilarious to read. Sure there are robberies and even a murder every few years, but usually it is something like "The wind blew over a tree branch, which hit a car parked on the street and set off a car alarm. The alarm, in turn, was loud and frightened an elderly man nearby who was walking his dog."
Anyway, the recent cover of the Beach Reporter is the best I've ever seen. I will have to finagle technology to post a pic, but my description will do for now. The cover of the 1/15/09 Beach Reporter plasters a huge picture of three girls on the highs school water polo team sitting by the pool. They are each around 14-15 years old, and kind of smiling. And the huge headline you can't help but see half a mile away?
"WAITING TO GET WET"
I love local newspapers. No one at the Beach Reporter caught that? "Hey let's throw up a pic of three pubescent girls with the headline 'Waiting to Get Wet.' And then distribute that paper to those girls' parents, friends, and teachers."
Rad.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Obama Schmobama Y'all!
I am out in a red state for business, and must admit that this is a very interesting place to celebrate the inauguration of our 44th President, Barack Obama.A lot of folks were very grumbly here this morning leading up to the inaugural speech, and waxed poetic about the good old days of President Bush. Yes, apparently, out here, there were some good old days. I think they are all very happy to have him back home. Probably not as happy as the rest of us.
After the speech, a few folks commented surprisingly about what a great speech Obama had given, and I was whisked away to an old Chris Rock joke... "He's so well-spoken! He speaks so well!"
In the cafeteria, we were served free inauguration cake that was no doubt provided by a minority worker in a gesture of good faith. While everyone was thrilled about the cake, I'm not sure they were equally thrilled with what it represented.
The buzz died down after lunch, or so it seemed to me, as I was in a meeting for most of the afternoon. But then Obama madness struck again. My team was discussing plans for after work tomorrow night and we "all" agreed on a trip to the shooting range. After all, we have to get some shooting in before Obama takes our guns.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
More Crap That's Rotting My Brain
You know my social life is dim when all I have to blog about is reality TV shows on VH1. In fact, it is so dim, that the majority of conversation when I am out being social with real, live human beings is about reality TV shows on VH1. This happened to me both Friday night and Sunday afternoon.Sigh. If only a deep knowledge of VH1 cast members and their love triangles could earn me 7-figures.
And while I am at it, I'll dig myself in a little deeper. I actually teared up last night when Real picked Cornfed in the finale of Real Chance of Love. I chanted the phrase, "Oh! He looks so much better!" ad nauseum during the makeover of Hobie Buchanan on Confessions of a Teen Idol. I almost peed my pants at the trailer for I Love Money 2.
The problem isn't that I don’t enjoy quality television, the problem is that CinS doesn't enjoy the same quality television as me. We have very few shows that we watch together (thank the Lord for the return of LOST!), and so, like most of America, we find ourselves watching the lowest common denominator. Also, like most of America, we spend most of our together time in front of the TV. We don’t have pets or children. Please don’t judge.
And there you have it. Two, almost-consecutive posts about VH1. Damn you Chris Abrego and your mad genius! You have won!
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
In Your Head! In Your Head!
CinS got a new video game involving zombies, which is probably my all-time favorite video game topic - probably only because there is yet to be a sweet vampire vs. werewolf video game. Maybe there was some kind of Van Helsing tie-in years ago, but I'm really waiting for a rad Underworld game. Both star Kate Beckinsale so it should be a wash, but IMHO I think Scott Speedman makes a much more compelling video game star than Hugh Jackman, as evidenced by the very lame X-Men 3 game and the "Boy from Oz Dance Party" that was never greenlit by our friends at Xbox.
But back to the zombies. The latest in zombie gaming, Left 4 Dead, is a phenom that has swept the Tribeca gamer community (of CinS and his 2 buddies). And all of these zombies remind me of a fateful night on a quest for McDonalds.
One night, CinS and I were out with some friends, and like most boozy nights, we got a little hungry after hours. Our usual late night snack is the mighty delicious bodega tuna salad and jalapeño dirty chips. But this night, we wanted something different. Something hot. Something from McDonalds.
I was jonsing some McNuggets and CinS was planning his usual combo of a Double Cheeseburger and Filet O'Fish. So we went to the 24-hour McDonalds in our neighborhood as we always do, and the joint was closed. CLOSED! I think it was the Sunday of Labor Day or some other random holiday that definitely involves liquor and late night runs to 24-hour fast food restaurants. The closing was puzzling. And frustrating.
Hopeful and hungry, we took a cab up the street to the other 24-hour McDonalds. It too was closed. Now we're talking about a conspiracy. I was wearing some kind of giant shoe at the time, yet refused to take another cab. At this point, it was a matter of principle. We would find tasty food this night. Oh yes, we would.
And so, we set off on foot towards an often overlooked Burger King on Canal Street, just a few blocks from home. We marched from Houston and Varick to Canal and Broadway. No more than a mile, but in the middle of a drunken night, waiting in vain for tasty treats, the walk was epic.
We arrived at the BK and, of course, it too was closed. But what was that in the distance? All glowing and full of light? A 24-hour McDonalds that was actually open!
We raced down the street and entered the hallowed doors. To our dismay, they were only serving a limited menu at this hour, but it was now close to 3:30 am and we just didn't care. French fries please! It took us about a minute to come down off our high and take in our surroundings.
The McDonalds was packed. But not with people eating. It was filled - wall-to-wall - with dead bodies. Bodies splayed out across the tables, passed out on the benches, some with feet dangling in the walkway. None of the bodies moved. There were a few tables open, but as hungry as we were, there was no way in hell that we were going to eat at this McDonalds. It looked like a scene out of any zombie movie, at the point when all the zombies are asleep and have no idea how close they are to real human brains.
We tiptoed out, fries in hand, and started running home as soon as the door closed behind us. We swore to never return to the Zombie McDonalds. It was lucky that we made it out alive the first time, we weren’t about to push our luck.
The Zombie McDonalds is visible on my way to and from work. It's funny that I never noticed it before, and now it looms at me, hungrily glaring, as if I'm the brains that got away. From the street, I noticed that the McDonalds claims to have three stories of seating, but windows only mark levels one and two. I bet the zombie hideout is on the third floor. There must be something in the secret sauce keeping them alive.
But back to the zombies. The latest in zombie gaming, Left 4 Dead, is a phenom that has swept the Tribeca gamer community (of CinS and his 2 buddies). And all of these zombies remind me of a fateful night on a quest for McDonalds.
One night, CinS and I were out with some friends, and like most boozy nights, we got a little hungry after hours. Our usual late night snack is the mighty delicious bodega tuna salad and jalapeño dirty chips. But this night, we wanted something different. Something hot. Something from McDonalds.
I was jonsing some McNuggets and CinS was planning his usual combo of a Double Cheeseburger and Filet O'Fish. So we went to the 24-hour McDonalds in our neighborhood as we always do, and the joint was closed. CLOSED! I think it was the Sunday of Labor Day or some other random holiday that definitely involves liquor and late night runs to 24-hour fast food restaurants. The closing was puzzling. And frustrating.
Hopeful and hungry, we took a cab up the street to the other 24-hour McDonalds. It too was closed. Now we're talking about a conspiracy. I was wearing some kind of giant shoe at the time, yet refused to take another cab. At this point, it was a matter of principle. We would find tasty food this night. Oh yes, we would.
And so, we set off on foot towards an often overlooked Burger King on Canal Street, just a few blocks from home. We marched from Houston and Varick to Canal and Broadway. No more than a mile, but in the middle of a drunken night, waiting in vain for tasty treats, the walk was epic.
We arrived at the BK and, of course, it too was closed. But what was that in the distance? All glowing and full of light? A 24-hour McDonalds that was actually open!
We raced down the street and entered the hallowed doors. To our dismay, they were only serving a limited menu at this hour, but it was now close to 3:30 am and we just didn't care. French fries please! It took us about a minute to come down off our high and take in our surroundings.
The McDonalds was packed. But not with people eating. It was filled - wall-to-wall - with dead bodies. Bodies splayed out across the tables, passed out on the benches, some with feet dangling in the walkway. None of the bodies moved. There were a few tables open, but as hungry as we were, there was no way in hell that we were going to eat at this McDonalds. It looked like a scene out of any zombie movie, at the point when all the zombies are asleep and have no idea how close they are to real human brains.
We tiptoed out, fries in hand, and started running home as soon as the door closed behind us. We swore to never return to the Zombie McDonalds. It was lucky that we made it out alive the first time, we weren’t about to push our luck.
The Zombie McDonalds is visible on my way to and from work. It's funny that I never noticed it before, and now it looms at me, hungrily glaring, as if I'm the brains that got away. From the street, I noticed that the McDonalds claims to have three stories of seating, but windows only mark levels one and two. I bet the zombie hideout is on the third floor. There must be something in the secret sauce keeping them alive.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
You Smell Like My Soulmate
As you know, I watch a lot of bad reality TV. Last night was no exception.
Everyone's favorite wig-wearing, fake-tanning, guyliner-sporting "rock star," Bret Michaels, is (finally) back with installment 3 of his reality dating show on VH1. This season, the whores are on a bus. Bret peppers the "unscripted" dialog with more catchphrases than ever. Madcap antics involving giant fake guns ensue.
We watched the premiere last night, and it was dirtier than ever. All I can say to those who have not yet tuned in, is that the action was so vile that VH1 couldn't even discuss it, let alone show it. From the clever editing and Portuguese euphemisms provided by one contestant, I can only assume that one girl did a body shot off of another girl's vagina. So, so frightening.
After the show, CinS declared, no more reality dating shows tonight. This was before the TV changed to NBC and we caught wind of Mamma's Boys. This show is so bad (sorry Seacrest), yet I cannot look away. Especially when earnest black chicks are cooking brisket and playing dreidel.
I'm sure it comes to no surprise to you that I dreamt last night about reality dating shows. And I think I have a winning idea. Here's my pitch:
The premise is based on pheromones and the idea that everyone's unique scent has some cosmic mate. The producers match up couples prior to the show so that everyone cast has a match. All of the contestants know that their match is out in the pool somewhere, but have no idea who it is. Contestants will definitely include super studs and blonde bombshells for everyone to fight over. The contestants are, of course, living on a bus. (this may or may not be part of my pitch, but it was a critical element in my dream. maybe it's easier to smell people in an enclosed space?) No one gets eliminated, we just watch what happens.
In my dream, CinS and I were cast on the show, and sitting together on the bus. We knew we were married, but no one else knew. I guess we were trying to punk the system, which is something we talk about doing all the time either on TV or on eHarmony. On the episode featured in my dream, the contestants had already paired up and they decided to insert an undesirable element on the bus to see how the pairs dealt with difficult situations. They basically had some actors dressed like homeless people boarded the bus and harassed everyone. CinS and I knew they were actors and made fun of them instead of being scared. I’m sure the producers were annoyed.
I would totally watch this show. Of course I would, it is A) my idea, and B) a crappy reality dating show. It is a compelling idea that has the potential for cat fighting. I am a programming genius. The only problem would probably be the budget. Gas is expensive these days. I also wonder how expensive it would be to smell test everyone? Surely, it has to cost less than disinfecting 20 girls for Bret every 9 months.
Monday, January 5, 2009
We're 100!
Can you believe we've been around for 100 posts? Yeesh!
Like any good sitcom hitting their 100th milestone, today's post will be a contrived rehash of this blog to date.
To celebrate this momentous occasion, may we (re)present our favorite posts of 2008. Enjoy!
http://blogtari.blogspot.com/2008/04/snapshot-of-ny-living.html
http://blogtari.blogspot.com/2008/05/charity-case.html
http://blogtari.blogspot.com/2008/05/redemption-blong.html
http://blogtari.blogspot.com/2008/05/grand-theft-auto-4-youve-stolen-my.html
http://blogtari.blogspot.com/2008/07/frank-sinatras-got-lousy-taste.html
http://blogtari.blogspot.com/2008/08/wont-you-be-mine.html
http://blogtari.blogspot.com/2008/08/petty-cabs.html
Oh, and our apologies for never blogging in earnest about cocktails or neon, despite our tagline.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Make Money in Your Pajamas!
Happy New Year dear readers! We've taken a holiday hiatus to refuel our creative fire for 09. We hope you won't be disappointed.
The last two weeks of the year are traditionally slow for business folk... actually, only office-style business folk, but since we're both officey, I naturally assume everyone else is officey, which I guess is some form of "-ist" (racist, sexist, careerist?) Well, you can tell things have been slow for me since I'm ranting within a rant, which is a sure sign that I haven't spoken to a human being for a solid 2 weeks.
I went to the office the week of Christmas, and a few others were there as well, so things weren't too depressing, but the Monday after the holiday I was the only person in the office. It was very creepy. Mildly liberating, but mostly creepy. I made the executive decision to work from home for the rest of the shortened week so I wouldn't be alone and a target for corporate takeover/gang violence.
Working from home is not for me. Especially when it's a dead week and there is little to no work to keep me occupied.
Working from Home - Day One: Tuesday
I settled into my desk with a steamy bowl of oatmeal and sat in corporate silence for about 10 minutes. It was deafening. I turned on morning TV. The Today Show makes NBC my network of choice, and I was thrilled to find Mario Cantone co-hosting the 4th hour of Today with Kathie-Lee (on vacation) and Hoda. Homosexual hilarity ensued. The channel stayed tuned, and Martha Stewart snuck up on me. I'd never seen a Martha Stewart show in my life and was surprised(?) to find her smug and un-compelling. But you know who is way worse than Martha? Guest star Terrence Howard. GOOD LORD! You are not a singer. You are an actor. Deal with it.
Working from Home - Day Two: Wednesday
So it's New Year's Eve and not much is getting done today. I have resigned to work a half day anyway. I again start my day with oatmeal and the Today Show. And guess who's back? Mario Cantone! But today, Mario and Hoda are celebrating the New Year a bit early. They are drinking champagne. Mario is clearly unconcerned about being asked back to guest host again. Boyfriend is wasted and ranting about penises on morning television. It is painful to watch Hoda drunkenly attempt to calm him down. He is then set loose on the streets of Manhattan, where he asks tourists trivia questions while unsubtly berating them. After Mario, I do not give Martha a second chance. I watch the girls of The View bicker about creationism. Happy New Year.
Working from Home - Day Three: Friday
I have no idea why my company is open today. It may not be. I work far from the corporate headquarters and am blind to things like vacation days. And if we are open today, absolutely no one from my team is working and none of my clients - even the ones who bother me on both Christmas and New Year's Eve - are around either. It is the deadest day of the year.
I started my day with some eggs. They were delicious. It got me thinking that it would be awesome if my office had a stove and if it was socially acceptable to cook eggs at work. I then remembered my 7th grade Home Ec class where the entire cooking portion of the class was dedicated to cooking in the microwave oven. I am totally serious. We made an omelet in the microwave, which sounds totally gross, but I remember being pleasantly surprised. I wonder if the microwave curriculum is still in place, or if it was more of an ode to new microwave technology than empowering tweens to cook for themselves.
After breakfast, nothing was happening. Desperate for a break from morning TV, I cleaned out my refrigerator. Pulling out the crisper drawers and washing them in the sink. Good times. I waited around the house, desperate for an email or client call, until 1pm when I made a break for it. Lucky for me, this was in the height of the day's snow. I didn't care. I needed to get the F out of my apartment. I bought some new jeans. I spent way too much time at Whole Foods. And then, as always, I had to go to the regular supermarket to get all the real groceries I can't get at Whole Foods. But don't worry Whole Foods, I'm not mad. That hippie dude you sent to my apartment with my groceries totally made up for my sliced provolone run at the Food Emporium.
Needless to say, I am really looking forward to getting back to the office on Monday. To my fellow office workers, I hope you appreciate what you have. Because no matter how crappy your job is, and no matter how little you are looking forward to Monday, I guarantee that your office is bigger than 800 square feet.
The last two weeks of the year are traditionally slow for business folk... actually, only office-style business folk, but since we're both officey, I naturally assume everyone else is officey, which I guess is some form of "-ist" (racist, sexist, careerist?) Well, you can tell things have been slow for me since I'm ranting within a rant, which is a sure sign that I haven't spoken to a human being for a solid 2 weeks.
I went to the office the week of Christmas, and a few others were there as well, so things weren't too depressing, but the Monday after the holiday I was the only person in the office. It was very creepy. Mildly liberating, but mostly creepy. I made the executive decision to work from home for the rest of the shortened week so I wouldn't be alone and a target for corporate takeover/gang violence.
Working from home is not for me. Especially when it's a dead week and there is little to no work to keep me occupied.
Working from Home - Day One: Tuesday
I settled into my desk with a steamy bowl of oatmeal and sat in corporate silence for about 10 minutes. It was deafening. I turned on morning TV. The Today Show makes NBC my network of choice, and I was thrilled to find Mario Cantone co-hosting the 4th hour of Today with Kathie-Lee (on vacation) and Hoda. Homosexual hilarity ensued. The channel stayed tuned, and Martha Stewart snuck up on me. I'd never seen a Martha Stewart show in my life and was surprised(?) to find her smug and un-compelling. But you know who is way worse than Martha? Guest star Terrence Howard. GOOD LORD! You are not a singer. You are an actor. Deal with it.
Working from Home - Day Two: Wednesday
So it's New Year's Eve and not much is getting done today. I have resigned to work a half day anyway. I again start my day with oatmeal and the Today Show. And guess who's back? Mario Cantone! But today, Mario and Hoda are celebrating the New Year a bit early. They are drinking champagne. Mario is clearly unconcerned about being asked back to guest host again. Boyfriend is wasted and ranting about penises on morning television. It is painful to watch Hoda drunkenly attempt to calm him down. He is then set loose on the streets of Manhattan, where he asks tourists trivia questions while unsubtly berating them. After Mario, I do not give Martha a second chance. I watch the girls of The View bicker about creationism. Happy New Year.
Working from Home - Day Three: Friday
I have no idea why my company is open today. It may not be. I work far from the corporate headquarters and am blind to things like vacation days. And if we are open today, absolutely no one from my team is working and none of my clients - even the ones who bother me on both Christmas and New Year's Eve - are around either. It is the deadest day of the year.
I started my day with some eggs. They were delicious. It got me thinking that it would be awesome if my office had a stove and if it was socially acceptable to cook eggs at work. I then remembered my 7th grade Home Ec class where the entire cooking portion of the class was dedicated to cooking in the microwave oven. I am totally serious. We made an omelet in the microwave, which sounds totally gross, but I remember being pleasantly surprised. I wonder if the microwave curriculum is still in place, or if it was more of an ode to new microwave technology than empowering tweens to cook for themselves.
After breakfast, nothing was happening. Desperate for a break from morning TV, I cleaned out my refrigerator. Pulling out the crisper drawers and washing them in the sink. Good times. I waited around the house, desperate for an email or client call, until 1pm when I made a break for it. Lucky for me, this was in the height of the day's snow. I didn't care. I needed to get the F out of my apartment. I bought some new jeans. I spent way too much time at Whole Foods. And then, as always, I had to go to the regular supermarket to get all the real groceries I can't get at Whole Foods. But don't worry Whole Foods, I'm not mad. That hippie dude you sent to my apartment with my groceries totally made up for my sliced provolone run at the Food Emporium.
Needless to say, I am really looking forward to getting back to the office on Monday. To my fellow office workers, I hope you appreciate what you have. Because no matter how crappy your job is, and no matter how little you are looking forward to Monday, I guarantee that your office is bigger than 800 square feet.
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