Getting it done with the end of gun.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
What About That $100 Million We're Saving?
Remember when President Obama said he'd be cutting $100 million from the budget in 90 days? Well, it never happened. I guess it hardly matters anyway considering what our budget is growing into. To get an idea of what $100 million represents in the grand scheme of our overall Federal budget, look here.
A Slightly Silly Article On Serie A
Here. The writer tells us that many Serie A teams are thrashing their opponents in pre-season friendlies. But he doesn't go too far out of his way to tell you that these opponents are the equivalent of bar softball teams. If I beat up a 4 year old in a fight, yes, I'd be personally stoked because I finally won a fight, but I wouldn't make it a point to say "Hey all of you people, I am the bombs because I just busted this girl up". Similarly, if I were on Genoa I wouldn't get too excited because we just beat Stubai 17-0. Especially if I'm not even certain that Stubai has an actual competitive team.
Monday, July 20, 2009
David Beckham Is No Eric Cantona
The Beckham, who is mad hard, dog, confronts an angry fan at a Galaxy match. Lots of farting, no poop.
We've already gone over Carlos Tevez and his inability to find the men's section.
Just another example of how international football is being taken over by ladyboys.
Like here, where Ronaldo admits that he likes short shorts. Oof.
And here as Emanuel Adebayor arrives to sign for City at Middle Eastlands in an outfit from the Blue Osyter Bar Collection.
We've already gone over Carlos Tevez and his inability to find the men's section.I can't find a picture of it but I saw on Sky Sports out of the corner of my eye last week where Joleon Lescott was walking through a parking lot dressed like a refugee from The Thunderdome.
What's up with the footballers, man? They should remember two fundamental rules while out in public. 1 - they are grown men. 2 - they need to dress like grown men.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
German Experimental Artists Film United Match
This is weird. Fair warning, the first 2 minutes are just George Best staring into a camera. It's unnerving so skip ahead if you need to. But the remainder is oddly interesting, if not a bit sad. The drink was starting to take its toll on old George's game by this point and a bit of the spark seems gone.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
More Thoughts On Tevez
Here's Tevez giving his explanation why he left United and went to City. I'm embarrassed for Tevez. He's dug himself into a hole but can't seem to put his shovel down. You can't say you are ready and happy to fight for a place in the starting lineup at City but you're leaving United because you weren't in their starting lineup enough. What about fighting for your spot in the United lineup? Instead of shooting wide all the time why not score more goals (your job). Then you'll start all you want. This guy is being very poorly advised. He shouldn't be allowed to speak to the media anymore.
Is that a crocheted headwarmer? I'm going to put out a wild guess here and say that this item was not purchased from the mens section.
On another note, just what the hell is going on here?
Is that a crocheted headwarmer? I'm going to put out a wild guess here and say that this item was not purchased from the mens section.
Thoughts On Tevez
He claims he was greatly disrespected through his lack of starting opportunities, and so he's leaving. But he's leaving to join City - a team that has Robinho, Santa Cruz, Benjani, and Bellamy. That's 4 strikers who can match him easily in the goals department. And they might be signing Adebayor too. It's hard to say I'm leaving the champs as their third striker and joining the chumps as their 4th choice striker for any reason other than "I'm looking for a payday and I don't care about trophies". His payday will be in the neighborhood of £150,000 per week. I just hope he uses some of that 30 pieces of silver to get a haircut.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Hot, Moist, Pink Meat
Maybe not pink. I guess I prefer medium rare. Anyway, I bring it up because I am halfway done with my Summer Of Steaks Tour™ and so it's time to discuss my thoughts thus far. From best steak to least bestiest steak, here we go:
Keens - My favorite place in the world to eat. The NY Sirloin (all reviews are based on the NY Sirloin) is without peer, always cooked just as you want it, and there's even sea salt at the table. Even better than Keens' steaks - which are the best - is Keens' Mutton. It's a Flintstones sized mountain of otherworldly lamb that requires neither salt nor sauce. It is the best meal in the city.
Ben And Jacks (5th Avenue location)- Let me tell you that I generally do not like getting my steak pre-cut. Bugs the crap out of me and usually lets all the bloody goodness of the meat run out onto your plate instead of going into your stomach where it belongs. But whatever it is they do while pre-slicing the steak at Ben And Jacks - owned and operated by ex-Lugers staff - works. Really well. It comes drenched in a sizzling bath of grease and butter and is incredible. I know, you're wondering "but what about their sauteed spinach?" Rest easy, fair reader, for their sauteed spinach is equally incredible. Ben And Jacks also has the best - the best, Jerry, the best - lunch special in town. $25ish for a good sized steak, veggies, and potatoes.
The Old Homestead - Had been my second favorite for years until Ben And Jacks came along. Still home to legendary steaks and unbeatable onion soup. I sat there like a pig in poop loving my steak until I noticed that Mrs. Bloggity Blog Blog was almost crying into her uneaten steak sandwich. Or should I say her steak tartar sandwich. I like a the rare meat, but this was too rare even for me. And it was strangely presented on a smallish hamburger bun with a mountain of crinkly looking onions. You can't really send this back for further cooking. It's already cut up and messy and then they're disassembling and reassembling. . . Gross, and likely dried out by recooking. So I gave Mrs. Bloggity Blog Blog my steak and ate all of the various sides. I love the place but the Mrs. will not be going back.
Benjamin - Solid. Can't go wrong there. And the dining area is pretty cool - it's a converted club, so it's got the wood-lined walls, giant fireplace, etc..
The Palm - Not one of the crappy chain locations, the Second Avenue mothership. It's certainly one of the niftiest looking places you'll ever eat in, with hand-drawn cartoons dating from as far back as the 20's covering the walls. My steak was a bit on the underwhelming side, a bit too tough for my liking. I guess I was expecting to have my socks knocked off but it didn't happen. It wasn't bad but it wasn't the best either. Not how I remembered it. But of course as the laws of marriage and irony dictate, it turns out that Mrs. Bloggity Blog Blog found their steak sandwich to be the best that she's ever had by a mile. She thought the same about their french fries, and I would have to agree with her on that. Our carrot cake dessert was good and impossibly gigantic.
Morton's - Reader, beware of Morton's. They offer a disgraceful combination of high prices and average (I'm being kind) steaks. I don't expect anything amazing from the chain steakhouses but come on. Lifeless atmosphere, meh steaks, titanic bills. Few if any redeeming qualities other than that when I went it was raining out and at least by being inside I was not getting soaked. Unless you count the bill . . .
Keens - My favorite place in the world to eat. The NY Sirloin (all reviews are based on the NY Sirloin) is without peer, always cooked just as you want it, and there's even sea salt at the table. Even better than Keens' steaks - which are the best - is Keens' Mutton. It's a Flintstones sized mountain of otherworldly lamb that requires neither salt nor sauce. It is the best meal in the city.
Ben And Jacks (5th Avenue location)- Let me tell you that I generally do not like getting my steak pre-cut. Bugs the crap out of me and usually lets all the bloody goodness of the meat run out onto your plate instead of going into your stomach where it belongs. But whatever it is they do while pre-slicing the steak at Ben And Jacks - owned and operated by ex-Lugers staff - works. Really well. It comes drenched in a sizzling bath of grease and butter and is incredible. I know, you're wondering "but what about their sauteed spinach?" Rest easy, fair reader, for their sauteed spinach is equally incredible. Ben And Jacks also has the best - the best, Jerry, the best - lunch special in town. $25ish for a good sized steak, veggies, and potatoes.
The Old Homestead - Had been my second favorite for years until Ben And Jacks came along. Still home to legendary steaks and unbeatable onion soup. I sat there like a pig in poop loving my steak until I noticed that Mrs. Bloggity Blog Blog was almost crying into her uneaten steak sandwich. Or should I say her steak tartar sandwich. I like a the rare meat, but this was too rare even for me. And it was strangely presented on a smallish hamburger bun with a mountain of crinkly looking onions. You can't really send this back for further cooking. It's already cut up and messy and then they're disassembling and reassembling. . . Gross, and likely dried out by recooking. So I gave Mrs. Bloggity Blog Blog my steak and ate all of the various sides. I love the place but the Mrs. will not be going back.
Benjamin - Solid. Can't go wrong there. And the dining area is pretty cool - it's a converted club, so it's got the wood-lined walls, giant fireplace, etc..
The Palm - Not one of the crappy chain locations, the Second Avenue mothership. It's certainly one of the niftiest looking places you'll ever eat in, with hand-drawn cartoons dating from as far back as the 20's covering the walls. My steak was a bit on the underwhelming side, a bit too tough for my liking. I guess I was expecting to have my socks knocked off but it didn't happen. It wasn't bad but it wasn't the best either. Not how I remembered it. But of course as the laws of marriage and irony dictate, it turns out that Mrs. Bloggity Blog Blog found their steak sandwich to be the best that she's ever had by a mile. She thought the same about their french fries, and I would have to agree with her on that. Our carrot cake dessert was good and impossibly gigantic.
Morton's - Reader, beware of Morton's. They offer a disgraceful combination of high prices and average (I'm being kind) steaks. I don't expect anything amazing from the chain steakhouses but come on. Lifeless atmosphere, meh steaks, titanic bills. Few if any redeeming qualities other than that when I went it was raining out and at least by being inside I was not getting soaked. Unless you count the bill . . .
Saturday, July 11, 2009
How High Taxes Kill Sports Leagues
They drive away players who can make much more elsewhere. Excessive taxes is a the no good.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Ring A Ding Ding, It's The Grunge, Dollface
So last week I found myself receiving liberal doses of adult refreshment at the swank Campbell Apartment. It's in Grand Central Terminal. Very upscale, old-fashioned sort of place, and you won't hear rap or rock in there. Anyway, as I'm sitting there I hear a Rat Pack type version of Smells Like Teen Spirit come on over the sound system. I thought I'd heard it before, and sadly I had though I can't remember why. It's Paul Anka covering Nirvana. Here it is - share my pain
What can one say about this? Nirvana, as influential as they were, were dreadfully bad. When you take crashing drums and all three fuzzy deafening chords away from the lyrics and finally get to hear the words almost spoken instead of shouted, you realize just how bad they were. But on the flip side you have Paul Anka desperately trying to remain relevant by copying the "bad" music from the kids on the street. What a weird moment in music history.
UPDATE** Who can forget this Paul Anka outburst?
What can one say about this? Nirvana, as influential as they were, were dreadfully bad. When you take crashing drums and all three fuzzy deafening chords away from the lyrics and finally get to hear the words almost spoken instead of shouted, you realize just how bad they were. But on the flip side you have Paul Anka desperately trying to remain relevant by copying the "bad" music from the kids on the street. What a weird moment in music history.
UPDATE** Who can forget this Paul Anka outburst?
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