September 29, 2005
Sit on It!
The WaPo's take on Butterstick: "A rogue sixth choice -- Butterstick, referring to the cub's size at birth -- has been vigorously promoted by Web bloggers but has not caught on with zoo officials and is not on the naming list."
When Kyle was in town, he suggested that we form an organization to counteract the poo-pooing of Butterstick by FONZ, the Friends of the National Zoo. I think he's onto something.
Following the lead of Arrested Development's brilliant move of replacing a lawyer played by Henry Winkler with a lawyer played by Scott Baio, I propose the following organization:
CHACHI: "Confer on Him A Creamy, Happy Identity"
Okay, that's not so good. Alternately there's POTSIE (Pandas Ought To Secure Innovative Epithets). Hmm, not so much. Any ideas?
September 28, 2005
I think I fell in love with Sufjan Stevens last night
With the trumpet, xylophone, upright piano, trombone, and music stands, I could just as easily have been in any high school band room in middle America as at the 9:30 Club last night. Of course, Washington Post photographers don't usually show up for band practice. Sufjan Stevens and the Illionisemakers are still pretty much band geeks who rock.
And how can you not love a group that does cheers between songs? (Complete with spirit fingers, mind you.)
But what I really enjoy about Sufjan is that in between all the silliness is this very special thing. Something very American, but not in a blind-to-our-faults way. The other day I was listening to "Detroit, Lift Up Your Weary Head!" on the bus. It put a lump in my throat. I'm not embarrassed to say that it almost moved me to tears (perhaps only avoided by my realization that then someone would think of me as "that guy who was crying on the 42"). The relentless march as the song progresses--it got me thinking about the promise of America. The beauty of our good ideas. The sadness of their not-always-great implementation. The power of that song, and much of his music, is that it's optimistic and pragmatic at the same time. I got the same feelings when I read Sarah Vowell's The Partly-Cloudy Patriot.
And, to be honest, it doesn't hurt that he's downright gorgeous.
This Is Not Your Father's Washingtonian
As a teenager, I read my parents' copies of Washingtonian. My stepmother had a treasured snarky note from then-columnist Rudy Maxa on her fridge, but he stopped writing for them before I really started reading it. I enjoyed their restaurant reviews and secretly perused the "Men Seeking Men" section of their personal ads, but it never really thrilled me like other magazines. I can't remember the last time I picked one up.
May I should start again thanks to the fresh perspective of one Garrett M. Graff, the first blogger to be invited to the White House briefing room and now Washingtonian's editor-at-large.
Of course it has nothing to do with the fact that they picked up on the Butterstick campaign.
September 27, 2005
Ways to Scare Your Co-Workers
Person delivering mail: What's that you're listening to?
Me: Um... a song called "Look at Your Game Girl"
Person: Who's it by?
Me: [long pause] Charles Manson.
Person: Oh. [leaves behind a cloud of dust]
"Something's different about you..."
No shit. Remember that whole mess of hair that went from my ears to my chin? It's skin right now.
In a fit of I'm-not-sure-what, I shaved my beard Sunday afternoon. I think I just wanted something different for fall. Also it makes sense to be clean-shaven just as the temperatures dip. Right?
Or maybe it was a wascally wabbit.
Next up: full-body waxing!
September 22, 2005
That Trophy Needs Polishing
I'm off today. Actually, I'm off most days. Today I'm off work, though. Mostly since Kyle's in town, and we're going to raise hell.
September 21, 2005
Ripped from the Headlines
Tyra Banks Proves Breasts Are Real on TV (thus ending a great national debate)
Nicole Richie & Paris Hilton Come Face to Face (a new experience for both)
Ibiza is Kate Moss's Favoured Stress-Buster (heroin being a close second)
Hatcher Is Delighted for Huffman (if you believe that, maybe she should get an Emmy)
September 20, 2005
The National Zoo Has Made a Tiny Huge Mistake
What's new in the world of baby pandas?
The little fella's growing fast. Soon he'll have a name. Meanwhile, I've put his photo up in my office. He'll always be Butterstick to me, even if my friends tell me that the Friends Of the National Zoo are not amused.
It seems Britney also has decided not to follow my sage advice to name her child "Butterstick" and opted to dub her child Preston Michael Spears Federline. That's right: PMS Federline. Two things that will ruin any woman's day.
By the way, butterstick.com is not available. Life's just not fair.
September 16, 2005
Does She Still Think His Tractor's Sexy, Though?
The most awesome Lisa writes this morning to share her anger:
...because you have neglected to share your reaction to the tragic ending to the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Chesney with your readers. I really can't process staggering news without the snark that I have come to depend on from this website. How can you be so remiss?Ooops, that's what I get for going out to see Kung Fu Dykes and Bang! Bang! last night. I've missed an entire news cycle of important celebrity happenings!
The WaPo states: In court papers filed Wednesday, Zellweger listed "fraud" as the reason for the breakup but did not elaborate.
Fraud? How could Mr. Chesney have defrauded Ms. Zellweger? Maybe she didn't realize how bald he was until 3 months into the marriage when he finally removed his cowboy hat. Or perhaps she didn't really have him from hello.
Or maybe Renee just needs to gather her best girlfriends and watch Waiting to Exhale this weekend. Shoop! Shoop!
September 14, 2005
I don't know why John insists on alarming me by sending links like this WaPo editorial about a "clear risk" for our fair city. Sure an attack on a railroad tank full of chlorine could kill me and many of the people I love most in the world, but doesn't he know there are more important things going on in the world?
Britney Spears could very well right now be having her baby!! Finally someone's life will be more messed up than Bobbi Kristina and Frances Bean.
Besides, I'm sure the federal government is on top of this whole bleach thing.
Who Wants Steak in a Sac?
Seriously, who does?
September 12, 2005
Feels Like the 1rd Time
After hearing him talking about the "rubbles" of Trent Lott's house, I was even more convinced that George W. Bush simply doesn't understand proper English. Apparently it's contagious.
September 09, 2005
My Dear [Papa] John Letter
Dear Papa John,
I'm sure you're busy coming up with new tasty pizza creations. Good for you. Even better, I see you're not greedy like most of your fellow CEOs. That's commendable.
Of course, apparently the sauce isn't the only thing red at Papa John's. That makes this whole thing easier for me.
You see, I can't be with you ever again. I just can't. We had a good run. I remember the first time I had you. You'd just come to College Park. As a promo, you gave freebies to all the fraternities in town. It was late summer and not many guys were around, so another brother and I snuck you into the basement and devoured you. I was hooked.
The other night, though, you crossed a line. I called you up. Your place at 2400 14th Street in Northwest DC. I know the number by heart... 202-986-2222. All those 2's. And guess which number's worn out on our phone? I bet that was from all the times I called you. Wednesday had been a rough day at work. I didn't get home until almost 8:00 that night. I immediately called you up. Glenn and I needed you.
After an hour, I worried. Your place is only four blocks. Hmm, could you have forgotten me? I called again. "Anytime now," the voice said, "anytime." Of course, that was after being on hold for ten minutes.
Next thing I know it had been almost two hours. Glenn and I were concerned. We needed you. But we also needed you piping hot.
Then the phone rang. Was it you? Oh, dear sweet Papa John at my door.
What's this? Glenn got a concerned look as he listens to the phone. You won't come to the door? You aren't even coming up to the building? You're on the street and want us to come get you? Again?
"But I'm not dressed!," Glenn protested. And then a moment. "You know what? Nevermind. Take your cold pizza back!"
It's not nice to piss off Glenn.
I called up and spoke to Tim the manager. Why had it taken so long? Why wouldn't you even come to the door? The pizza must have been cold!
"Well if you'd let me talk, I'll explain. It would not be cold because..."
Oh no you didn't, Tim. You most certainly did not.
"No, Tim, I won't let you talk, and here's why--you've lost me as a customer forever so there's no point in you talking. If I wanted a goddamn pizza after 10:00, I would NOT have ordered it at 8:00. Good-bye!"
And with that, our 12-year relationship is over.
Best of luck,
September 08, 2005
Floods of Denial
Ken Mehlman really is a master of denial:
While countless Americans are pulling together to lend a helping hand, Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid are pointing fingers in a shameless effort to tear us apart.
I'm so incredibly tired of people evading responsibility by throwing the term "blame game" around. Didn't Kenny pay any attention to his bossman a few years back?
Encouraging responsibility is not a search for scapegoats, it is a call to conscience. - George W. Bush, First Inaugural Address, January 20, 2001
September 07, 2005
Who Can Turn the World Off with Her Style?
Some of you may be outraged at Mama Bush's comment the other day:
What I'm hearing, which is sort of scary, is they all want to stay in Texas.
But, really, isn't it scary to stay in Texas?
And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this is working very well for them.
Right on, Bar! Just like that little boy who got cancer and then got to meet Spongebob Squarepants. It's not anyone who gets to meet Spongebob. Sure, he may have died, but it did work out well for him. For a little bit. In your sick (but beautiful) mind.
The sad thing, and this is where the cynic and the liberal that live inside of me get together for Cosmos and bitterness, the sad thing is that what happened in New Orleans and in much of the Gulf Coast seems to me to just be a more concentrated form of what happens on a daily basis. Each day, the urban and rural poor die of hunger, treatable illness, and plain neglect. We just don't usually have Anderson Cooper telling us about it.
Can't Stop the Cropp
Last night as I passed a slew of mayoral candidate Linda Cropp's DCist-approved signs, I couldn't get her name out of my head. I suppose that's the point: Think Cropp.
As I commented on DCist yesterday, I was hoping for Total Cropp being the slogan. Maybe Cropp-tacular! Or Holy Cropp--to bring out the religious vote. She could flesh out the differences between her and Tony Williams with a longer slogan. Something like Want DC General? You want Cropp!
But if you really want to know why you could have seen me giggling at the intersection of 11th and Columbia for a good two minutes, it's because I got the following in my head:
That's my Cropp! That's my Cropp!
September 02, 2005
From across the pond, Uncle Bob tagged me. It felt good. These answers took a lot longer to come up with than I thought. Who knew navel-gazing required such good eyesight?
7 things I plan to do before I die:
1) Have a job that I love going to 80% of the time (or more)
2) Better understand the complexities of red wine
3) Get something published
4) Be crowned messiah in a Senate office building
5) Go to Ireland
6) Dye my hair blue
7) Vote for a Presidential candidate I really believe in (again)
7 things I can do:
1) Wiggle my ears
2) Make a mean spinach lasagne
3) Triple entendres
4) Get extremely defensive of my friends
5) Recognize 95% of the people in Star magazine
6) Change clothes five times before going out
7) Sleep through most anything
7 things I cannot do:
1) Control my temper much of the time
2) Hold in a giggle
3) Tell my friends and family how much I love them
4) Eat mushrooms
5) Remember birthdays
7) Get haircuts as often as I need
7 things that attract me to the [opposite of my] opposite sex:
2) Laughs at my jokes
3) Makes me laugh
4) Knows when to care a lot
5) Knows when to be carefree
7 things that I say most often:
2) I dunno
3) Shit, I'm late
4) Can we order in?
6) Wanna go out?
7 celebrity crushes:
1) Mark Ruffalo
2) Jamie Bamber
3) Jake Gyllenhaal
5) Rupert Brooke
6) Jake Ryan
7) Brandon Flowers
7 people I want to do this (And as Bob said, "no one I've tagged should feel obligated." But you should really do it, since I don't usually tag just anyone.)
4) Cubby D
September 01, 2005
Somehow I doubt many residents of the Gulf Coast would agree with the late President Reagan when he said that "the 10 most frightening words in the English language are, 'I'm from the Federal Government, and I'm here to help'."
I'd venture that "there's no clean water, shelter, food, medical facilities, or security" is more frightening.