All I asked him to do was stay with us until the roadside service arrived. And then he’s asking me if I have a spare. Then he’s in the trunk getting the spare out. [...] He just kept saying it was no big deal.
"Your such a listener and a romantic Kevin will be the guy for you. You'll talk about anything and everything. and your dates will be remembered forever."
I look forward to dating my new husband, the Latina one.
The horses in the field for tomorrow's race, in order of predicted finish as judged solely on how awesome each horse's name is:
"Bodies would turn up all over the city, bound and gagged and showing signs of torture. Often they were found with a tell-tale yellow ribbon tied in bow around the victim's head: a gift from the cartel."
If you haven't been reading John Murray's fantastic series on the Mexican Drug Wars (over at The Awl), then, well, FUCK. Go, read it.
Like this one, from Halloween of 1988, in which former New Republic editor (and current New Yorker commenter) Hendrik Hertzberg sizes up the then-imminent next Vice President of the United States, Dan Quayle:
Despite his pee-pants performance in the Omaha debate against Lloyd Bentsen, it looks as if Dan Quayle, 41, will be president one of these days. Consider the politico-actuarial probabilities. Assuming the Republican lead endures, the junior senator from Indiana will be elected vice president. This alone will give him an even chance of becoming president. Three out of the last five presidents were vice president first. Seven out of the last ten vice presidents have ended up heading a national ticket, and four (five if you presumptively count George Bush) got all the way to the Oval Office. Of this century's vice presidents Quayle's age, all became president. Admittedly, the sample is small: T. Roosevelt, vice president at 42 in 1901, and R. Nixon, vice president at 40 in 1953, Still, makes you think, doesn't it?
Well, good news. The Red Hook "Mercado" is set to open on May 15, on private land, and will feature all the open-air delights that always made the trip down to the Hook worth it, plus a bunch of crafts and produce and other stuff. You know, like a Latin American mercado. The new market will be on Van Brunt Street between Coffey and Van Dyke.
"I think this will be fun, lively, and all-around entertaining," said David Letterman just before the cast of American Idiot performed "Holiday" on his show last night. No such luck, though. Unless you're really into the dopey, mugging and over-acting that's required of all Broadway actors, even those who look like they were styled by the manager of your local Hot Topic. And am I the only one who thinks they don't even sing it very well? Or are they just being punk? God, it hurts. Ew, yuck, cringe, etc.
P.S. On a personal note, in the heartwarming vein of "dumb-ass public school boy does good," my wife went to Spence. And yes, she's smarter than me (but I can beat her in an arm wrestle).
Wow. This is awesome. Fox 5 anchor Rosanna Scotto, in talking about whether or not soy products have the right to use the term "milk," straight-up demands some "soy jism." Enjoy.
Is it me, or is this shaping up to be a super boring day on the internet? I do not care to write about Colin Meloy's new book deal (a road we've been down once before), or about the terrible Kele Okereke song I wisely slept on when it surfaced a couple days ago, or about how John Lennon's handwritten lyrics to "A Day in the Life" are expected to fetch almost a million dollars at auction this summer, or, honestly, even about Lala shutting down. It's nice out, you see, and it is Friday, and it's our seventh birthday, and even though I'm working from home so that I can help look after my two-week-old daughter, I'm mostly just waiting for someone (Jonny?) to email me and tell me when I'm allowed to open up a beer. (Or, you know, take the kid for a walk.)
After about three minutes on RandomYouTubeVideo.com I was directed to this video of a man in a wig and dress singing the words of a book by the late American anarchist philosopher Terence McKenna. Thanks, RandomYouTubeVideo.com! (TheDailyWhat)
I know I'm almost an entire day late with this, but a new Band of Horses video hit the internet yesterday, for the song "NW Apt," from their forthcoming third full-length (out May 118h), and I'm sorry, but I just got around to watching it a little while ago. It's quite good, too—my favorite of the four album-tracks we've heard so far.
I wish the folks at Threadless would approve designer C D S's latest idea for a shirt already: a charticle version of the chorus from Skee-Lo's classic track "I Wish" (embedded after the jump, for good times). For those of you watching from someplace where you can't blast vintage nerd-hop (you wish), that's: "I wish I was little bit taller/I wish I was a baller/I wish I had a girl/who looked good/I would call her/I wish I had a rabbit in a hat with a bat/and a '64 Impala."
Sirk’s poker-faced take on widow wish-fulfillment, a grocery store fantasia—playboy Rock Hudson falls for wife of man he killed, studies, cures her uncurable blindness in bare-chested operation—starts in death, ends in salvation, and updates a medieval mythology of efficacious grace into the apostatic 50s of luxury condos and kultchah, with uneasy overtones of capitalist will-to-power: a full-grown stereotype of moonlit joy rides, canted California beachlight, Swiss oompahpah, the world’s best optometrists in labcoats, a hidden desert valley in Arizona that exists only for a hospital that exists only as the bedspring of recovery—emotional and physical—for our cut-out protagonists. Like Sirk’s great films to follow, it doesn’t really make sense, except emotionally.
You know, I actually really admire Christina Aguilera for straying from recent trends and not even bothering to attempt incorporating anything resembling a storyline into the S&M-themed video for her new single, "Not Myself Tonight." But if there's one thing to complain about, aside from it being an obvious Gaga ripoff, of course, it's the clumsy, tasteless product placement (2:16-2:23) of Christina's own brand of perfume, which she applies just moments before sexing up some dude. (Also possibly worth complaining about is the part, during said sexing up of dude, at 2:49 when dude is on all fours and she's riding him like a horse. Do people do that? Why would people do that?)
This just convinces me even further how repellent BDSM is. You must be mentally ill…
elvis costello perfomance link (the published one here is not working) http://videos.mediaite.com/video/Elvis-Costello-Radio-Radio-1977
I need a sweet baby