if you cant laugh at yourself, you got nothin.
Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
if only (my homage to the print journalism of larry king).
if i could have two women sing me happy birthday together, they would def be diana ross, circa 1964 (baby love), and stevie nicks, circa 1977 (dreams).
erykah badu would be sitting silently, wearing a funny hat. actually, she could wear the cake as a hat.
i dont have anything against badu - i actually really like some of her stuff - but that scenario would drive some people i know absolutely crazy, which would be a nice present for me.
if i could meet one athlete, it would obv be michael jordan. but if i could meet two, they would be john elway and your mother.
if i could eat one food right now, it would be my cuticles, without the dont bite it polish on them. fortunately, this is not possible.
erykah badu would be sitting silently, wearing a funny hat. actually, she could wear the cake as a hat.
i dont have anything against badu - i actually really like some of her stuff - but that scenario would drive some people i know absolutely crazy, which would be a nice present for me.
if i could meet one athlete, it would obv be michael jordan. but if i could meet two, they would be john elway and your mother.
if i could eat one food right now, it would be my cuticles, without the dont bite it polish on them. fortunately, this is not possible.
brooklyn rules.
on my way to the train this morning, i saw jeffrey wright walking his dog in ft. greene park. i was about to pay him some compliment, when i remembered i already have.
i left him in peace.
i left him in peace.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
the evolution of, and eventual widespread purveyance of, the truly spongy whole wheat bagel, might be the best nyc development of my lifetime.
narrowly edging out the revivification of union square, the renovation of innumerable subway stations, and the running and biking paths on the lower circumference of manhattan.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
ground control to major mom.
Whenever one of my parents calls me to help them with something on the computer, i feel like the guy at mission control who has to tell the monkey in the unmanned space station how to fix the pod bay door.
i know what im talking about, and that my directions are clear and precise, but their little computer-unintuitive monkey brains leave so much room for misinterpretation that something as simple as 'printing an on-screen graphic' turns into a journey so quixotic it would make leopold bloom blush.
monday night i spent forty minutes outside a bar trying to explain to my father how he could print an electoral map, from a 'printable version' wikipedia page, no less. various things kept going wrong - the printer would truncate the image, por ejemplo - and every time i thought we solved the last problem ('go to page setup and choose landscape'), another would sping up ('now the 'print' command is grayed out in the drop-down menu' [i think he was accidentally clicking outside the web browser after page setup, meaning he was in the finder, which of course doesn't print anything]).
ten minutes in, i was already at the end of my rope and i was just blowing up on the old man.
'every other computer in the world works one way, but im sure yours works another!'
'if you had bothered to pay attention the other hundred times ive walked you through this, youd know how to do it by now!'
'i wish i had never been born!'
ok, i never said that last one. but i was pretty harsh; afterwards, i felt very guilty for getting so frustrated.
since then, ive thought about how incredibly frustrating it must be as a parent to watch your child make much more significant mistakes than errant mouseclicks, knowing that our little, inexperienced reptile brains dont know any better.
all those times they had to soothe my sadness over some inane, little lord fauntleroy want, like us not living on the upper east side.
all those times pops came home to find me watching threes company reruns yet again, instead of reading a book, let alone doing homework.
all those times i forced my mom to help me dissect some precarious romance i was fighting for that she knew was never gonna go anywhere, anyway.
all those times i was getting high when i should have been doing anything else.
all those times i blatantly squandered my money.
all those times they witnessed me being some kind of assh*le to my peers.
finally, but particularly, all those times when i ran my mouth about some life choice they had made, and how i knew better cuz i had it all figured out, cuz while everyone else in the world had to have experience to know anything, i was somehow different.
generally speaking, my parents kept their relative cool during these incidents, even though many of them must have been excruciating to watch.
and there i was, going postal on my dad for not being able to print a graphic.
who the hell do i think i am?*
*and how the hell did he keep effing the printing up?
i know what im talking about, and that my directions are clear and precise, but their little computer-unintuitive monkey brains leave so much room for misinterpretation that something as simple as 'printing an on-screen graphic' turns into a journey so quixotic it would make leopold bloom blush.
monday night i spent forty minutes outside a bar trying to explain to my father how he could print an electoral map, from a 'printable version' wikipedia page, no less. various things kept going wrong - the printer would truncate the image, por ejemplo - and every time i thought we solved the last problem ('go to page setup and choose landscape'), another would sping up ('now the 'print' command is grayed out in the drop-down menu' [i think he was accidentally clicking outside the web browser after page setup, meaning he was in the finder, which of course doesn't print anything]).
ten minutes in, i was already at the end of my rope and i was just blowing up on the old man.
'every other computer in the world works one way, but im sure yours works another!'
'if you had bothered to pay attention the other hundred times ive walked you through this, youd know how to do it by now!'
'i wish i had never been born!'
ok, i never said that last one. but i was pretty harsh; afterwards, i felt very guilty for getting so frustrated.
since then, ive thought about how incredibly frustrating it must be as a parent to watch your child make much more significant mistakes than errant mouseclicks, knowing that our little, inexperienced reptile brains dont know any better.
all those times they had to soothe my sadness over some inane, little lord fauntleroy want, like us not living on the upper east side.
all those times pops came home to find me watching threes company reruns yet again, instead of reading a book, let alone doing homework.
all those times i forced my mom to help me dissect some precarious romance i was fighting for that she knew was never gonna go anywhere, anyway.
all those times i was getting high when i should have been doing anything else.
all those times i blatantly squandered my money.
all those times they witnessed me being some kind of assh*le to my peers.
finally, but particularly, all those times when i ran my mouth about some life choice they had made, and how i knew better cuz i had it all figured out, cuz while everyone else in the world had to have experience to know anything, i was somehow different.
generally speaking, my parents kept their relative cool during these incidents, even though many of them must have been excruciating to watch.
and there i was, going postal on my dad for not being able to print a graphic.
who the hell do i think i am?*
*and how the hell did he keep effing the printing up?
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
american conscience.
god bless jerry sanders, the mayor of san diego, for this heartfelt and thoughtful endorsement of gay marriage, which he gave on sept 19.
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