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Sunday, January 30, 2011
Locker Room Stargazing
Walked into the locker room yesterday and there, amidst the display of partiall/totally naked old men (don't be jealous) was this guy who could have just walked off the set of Sopranos. He had all the goods: well-rounded gut, big facial features, combed jet black hair with a grey streak running down the middle (kind of a reverse Pauly Walnuts kinda thing), gold chain, that "whaddyoulookinat???" expression permashmeared on his face. I was waiting to see if he would pull out a bright red track suit or something comparably stylish before I remembered that, mafia guy in your sites or not, it's just not good form to stare at half-naked dudes in the locker room of a gym. Well, then again, I guess it all depends on the gym...
ANYHOOO, I decided that particular day wasn't a good day to tempt fate, so I turned around only to find myself face-to-face with a man that bore an uncanny resemblance to his Holiness the Dalai Lama. Now, if you're like me and your exposure to Dalai Lamas consists primarily of having seen Seven Years In Tibet once or twice and some pictures on the internet, then this would have been an equally exciting experience for you (i.e. there is a small chance that this guy may not have looked that much like the Lama in actuality, but was a spitting image to the untrained eye). Again, it wasn't exactly most optimal time to verify my theory--namely, that he WAS the 14th Dalai Lama, himself. But, I swear, slap some red and yellow robes on this guy and you'd have the sweaty spiritual leader of Tibet in MY locker room!
And then I thought, "hmm...wonder why the Dalai Lama goes to Lakeforest Sport & Health? Does he get a discounted rate, being of reincarnated status and all? Or does he just like racquetball? I bet he lifts. Yeah...he totally lifts..."
Yup. Good times.
ANYHOOO, I decided that particular day wasn't a good day to tempt fate, so I turned around only to find myself face-to-face with a man that bore an uncanny resemblance to his Holiness the Dalai Lama. Now, if you're like me and your exposure to Dalai Lamas consists primarily of having seen Seven Years In Tibet once or twice and some pictures on the internet, then this would have been an equally exciting experience for you (i.e. there is a small chance that this guy may not have looked that much like the Lama in actuality, but was a spitting image to the untrained eye). Again, it wasn't exactly most optimal time to verify my theory--namely, that he WAS the 14th Dalai Lama, himself. But, I swear, slap some red and yellow robes on this guy and you'd have the sweaty spiritual leader of Tibet in MY locker room!
And then I thought, "hmm...wonder why the Dalai Lama goes to Lakeforest Sport & Health? Does he get a discounted rate, being of reincarnated status and all? Or does he just like racquetball? I bet he lifts. Yeah...he totally lifts..."
Yup. Good times.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Class meets Ass
It can be a truly jarring experience when certain emotions collide. Revulsion and intrigue, however, go together like peas and carrots. And I felt a healthy mix of both when I learned of this salacious libation, Ron de Jeremy. Coined "The adult Rum" and hailing from Panama, this new spirit is the doing of Master Distiller Francisco "Don Pancho" Fernandez and is seven years in the making. It boasts a flavor profile of oak, fruit, spices, vanilla and raw sugarcane Says the site, "The finish is elegant and long." HEYO!
While the best part about this rum may yet turn out to be its label--featuring Ron Jeremy's big ol'...HEAD (what'd you think, you dirty birdy you)--the first batch is being sold as numbered collectors' bottles and can be reserved HERE (click the "I WANT ONE" badge at bottom right).
And, unlike its namesake, I'm pretty sure you won't need to use protection before taking this one in...
Drink on!
While the best part about this rum may yet turn out to be its label--featuring Ron Jeremy's big ol'...HEAD (what'd you think, you dirty birdy you)--the first batch is being sold as numbered collectors' bottles and can be reserved HERE (click the "I WANT ONE" badge at bottom right).
And, unlike its namesake, I'm pretty sure you won't need to use protection before taking this one in...
Drink on!
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Top 5
Top 5 Annoying Things
1) The phrase "It is what it is."
2) DC Metro conductors who pronounce it "Judishuary" instead of "Judiciary."
3) When I get hounded by paparazzi.
4) Unnecessary redundancy.
5) People who have professionally-done Facebook profile pictures.
Have your own Top 5? Leave a COMMENT! Fo'sheeze!
1) The phrase "It is what it is."
2) DC Metro conductors who pronounce it "Judishuary" instead of "Judiciary."
3) When I get hounded by paparazzi.
4) Unnecessary redundancy.
5) People who have professionally-done Facebook profile pictures.
Have your own Top 5? Leave a COMMENT! Fo'sheeze!
Friday, January 21, 2011
8-bit Melancholy
Was reading an article about how the new Nintendo 3DS can be dangerous to young eyes (later refuted) when a sad thought occurred to me: No youngster of this or future generations will ever...EVER have played an 8-bit video game system! Ok, so, the occasional tike may get the opportunity to play some Excitebike on Dad's consignment shop-bought NES (no doubt a $15 impulse buy brought on by a bout of nostalgia after reminiscing about the "old days of video gaming") or, more likely, from downloaded throwbacks on whatever version of the Wii is in circulation.
But, retrogaming aside, the kids of tomorrow (cool band name?) won't have the same experience we did as littl'uns in what was practically a society-wide beta test of the Nintendo Entertainment System when it hit shelves in the early 80s. Today, at a BARE minimum, there is the Wii, Playstation, Xbox, portables, PC games, and...oh yeah, remember the iPhone? But when the NES premiered in 1983, your options were basically Atari and playing outside (does anyone remember that concept, btw?). Yes, there were a few other consoles out there. But, c'mon, did anyone REALLY own a Coleco Telstar?
I got my NES for Chanukah. I was officially the LAST one on my block to get one (no worries, Mom and Dad, I recovered. Sans therapy, even!). Like it was yesterday, I still remember the anticipation on that hallowed night as my parents handed me that wrapped box, shrouded in mystery...what could it be?!? Was it a Nintendo? DEAR LORD, LET IT BE A NINTENDO!!!! In the preceding months, my similarly-aged neighbor would ask me day after day if I "got one yet???" Lowering my head, eyes to the ground, downtrodden, I'd consistently answer, "no..." He would then proceed to regale me with stories of his video game-playing adventures--stomping on Koopa Troopas, dodging Bullet Bills, and avoiding falling in seemingly bottomless pits that, from which, one always seemed to regenerate above ground at the meager cost of "one life." I wanted that magic box so badly I could TASTE it. On that fateful winter night, basking the warm glow of approximately six flickering Chanukah candles (give or take), I ripped open the wrapping paper to reveal none other than the video game console I had desired so much! Oh, Happy Chanukah to me! Joy of joys! Latkes to Murgatroyd!!
So you can imagine my disappointment when, the very next day, I ran into my neighbor and he DIDN'T ASK ME IF I "GOT ONE YET???!" I was so ready to belt out a "YES!" and beam with pride as if I were administering an overzealous Care Bear Stare. But, he didn't ask. I waited and waited until finally I just blurted out, unceremoniously, "SO, you haven't asked me something today..." to which he sighed and replied--in a tone reserved solely for people you think are really lame--"Did you finally get a Nintendo?" It was anticlimactic at best.
But I digress. Back in the day the Nintendo was THE console and the game with which it came was THE game to have/play/attempt to master in a week's time without meals or sleep. Of course, we all know the legendary game of which I speak: SUPER MARIO BROS (that's right, always "Bros"...never "Brothers"). What a glorious creation! So simple, yet so innovative. So entertaining, yet so ridiculously frustrating at times. When SMB came out there were no internet gameplay videos, no blog spotlights...only tv commercials, so we barely had an idea of what the game brought to the table, content-wise. THAT, my friends, was a novelty of gaming that the kids of today will not be able to experience. Nowadays, thanks to the intertubes, you can practically see an entire game played through AND get all the hints and tips you'll ever need to help you succeed before purchasing. Where's the struggle?? Where's the earning of one's own stripes?
What I'm trying, convolutedly, to get at is that we were there for the BEGINNING; we got to see from where modern video gaming started--the first Mario game, the first Zelda game--we were there for all the great firsts and got to see the evolution unfold before our eyes! I'm not saying it as a badge of honor as much as to express a sentiment that it's a shame the kids of tomorrow won't have that opportunity, and later, that memory on which to look back. They'll have their own, yes. But...well...I guess it's kind of like being on the first season of The Real World. That show was truly groundbreaking and no one really knew what to expect...and it turned out to be awesome. Then Season 2 came out...then 3...yadda yadda yadda the show is now a specifically-cast, predictable, drama-filled hot tub porn. I'm not saying it's not entertaining; I'll be the first one to admit to enjoying a good drama-filled hot tub porn on occasion. But there's no more journey. No more novelty. Those tuning in today for the first time can appreciate it for what it is, but those of us who were there for the first season can appreciate it for what it was...which, in my mind, is a lot more meaningful.
I'll save my confused musings over how in the hell the NES light gun actually works for another post. Now THAT is a wonder of modern technology. Hurts my brain just thinking about it.
Finally, for all you ol' schoolers out there, check this pic out! The lack of sex going on in this bed must be staggering. Then again, maybe if you entered in the Contra code...
But, retrogaming aside, the kids of tomorrow (cool band name?) won't have the same experience we did as littl'uns in what was practically a society-wide beta test of the Nintendo Entertainment System when it hit shelves in the early 80s. Today, at a BARE minimum, there is the Wii, Playstation, Xbox, portables, PC games, and...oh yeah, remember the iPhone? But when the NES premiered in 1983, your options were basically Atari and playing outside (does anyone remember that concept, btw?). Yes, there were a few other consoles out there. But, c'mon, did anyone REALLY own a Coleco Telstar?
I got my NES for Chanukah. I was officially the LAST one on my block to get one (no worries, Mom and Dad, I recovered. Sans therapy, even!). Like it was yesterday, I still remember the anticipation on that hallowed night as my parents handed me that wrapped box, shrouded in mystery...what could it be?!? Was it a Nintendo? DEAR LORD, LET IT BE A NINTENDO!!!! In the preceding months, my similarly-aged neighbor would ask me day after day if I "got one yet???" Lowering my head, eyes to the ground, downtrodden, I'd consistently answer, "no..." He would then proceed to regale me with stories of his video game-playing adventures--stomping on Koopa Troopas, dodging Bullet Bills, and avoiding falling in seemingly bottomless pits that, from which, one always seemed to regenerate above ground at the meager cost of "one life." I wanted that magic box so badly I could TASTE it. On that fateful winter night, basking the warm glow of approximately six flickering Chanukah candles (give or take), I ripped open the wrapping paper to reveal none other than the video game console I had desired so much! Oh, Happy Chanukah to me! Joy of joys! Latkes to Murgatroyd!!
So you can imagine my disappointment when, the very next day, I ran into my neighbor and he DIDN'T ASK ME IF I "GOT ONE YET???!" I was so ready to belt out a "YES!" and beam with pride as if I were administering an overzealous Care Bear Stare. But, he didn't ask. I waited and waited until finally I just blurted out, unceremoniously, "SO, you haven't asked me something today..." to which he sighed and replied--in a tone reserved solely for people you think are really lame--"Did you finally get a Nintendo?" It was anticlimactic at best.
But I digress. Back in the day the Nintendo was THE console and the game with which it came was THE game to have/play/attempt to master in a week's time without meals or sleep. Of course, we all know the legendary game of which I speak: SUPER MARIO BROS (that's right, always "Bros"...never "Brothers"). What a glorious creation! So simple, yet so innovative. So entertaining, yet so ridiculously frustrating at times. When SMB came out there were no internet gameplay videos, no blog spotlights...only tv commercials, so we barely had an idea of what the game brought to the table, content-wise. THAT, my friends, was a novelty of gaming that the kids of today will not be able to experience. Nowadays, thanks to the intertubes, you can practically see an entire game played through AND get all the hints and tips you'll ever need to help you succeed before purchasing. Where's the struggle?? Where's the earning of one's own stripes?
What I'm trying, convolutedly, to get at is that we were there for the BEGINNING; we got to see from where modern video gaming started--the first Mario game, the first Zelda game--we were there for all the great firsts and got to see the evolution unfold before our eyes! I'm not saying it as a badge of honor as much as to express a sentiment that it's a shame the kids of tomorrow won't have that opportunity, and later, that memory on which to look back. They'll have their own, yes. But...well...I guess it's kind of like being on the first season of The Real World. That show was truly groundbreaking and no one really knew what to expect...and it turned out to be awesome. Then Season 2 came out...then 3...yadda yadda yadda the show is now a specifically-cast, predictable, drama-filled hot tub porn. I'm not saying it's not entertaining; I'll be the first one to admit to enjoying a good drama-filled hot tub porn on occasion. But there's no more journey. No more novelty. Those tuning in today for the first time can appreciate it for what it is, but those of us who were there for the first season can appreciate it for what it was...which, in my mind, is a lot more meaningful.
I'll save my confused musings over how in the hell the NES light gun actually works for another post. Now THAT is a wonder of modern technology. Hurts my brain just thinking about it.
Finally, for all you ol' schoolers out there, check this pic out! The lack of sex going on in this bed must be staggering. Then again, maybe if you entered in the Contra code...
Thursday, January 20, 2011
I am a craft beer drinker
FREE THE BEER!!!
Big ups to the gents from NewBrewThursday for putting this together. Take a look. Then take a drink.
Big ups to the gents from NewBrewThursday for putting this together. Take a look. Then take a drink.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Taurus is the new Gemini...or IS it? ~or~ DEAR GOD MY LIFE IS A HEAPING MESS OF ASTROLOGICAL CONFUSION
Message to all you Zodiac'ers out there:
REMAIN CALM! ALL IS WELL!
Seriously...it's going to be alright. You're still going to wake up tomorrow. The world isn't coming to an end--well, not until next year, that is. You're not a different person than you were last week. You don't have to switch out your wardrobe and reevaluate your mp3 collection and sell your dog. It's going to be OK.
All this ridiculousness over the changing Zodiac signs is giving me a freakin' stress headache. I mean, I knew, before the announcement, that some people put a lot of stock into their daily predictions/affirmations/OVERLY-VAGUE PERSONALITY DESCRIPTIONS. But after reading a few too many post-article comments left by worried, lost, and otherwise terrified individuals proclaiming their "identity" would always and forever be [insert your sign here], it has become apparent to me that society is about as stable as Amy Winehouse's blood toxicity level. What does it say about our state of affairs when an alarming number of us base our day's decisions around a non-committal, 50-word blurb? Just for shits and giggles, I took a gander at today's sage wisdom from Horoscope.com:
Obviously, I'm laying down the sarcasm with a thickness. But people get seriously LOONEY over this stuff! Basing interactions...choices...relationships on this drivel??! My friend, if you're reassessing your compatibility with your spouse because you just were "downgraded" to a Leo, well, I only wish I was the shrink that is undoubtedly gonna make BANK from your impending existential crisis.
Ok, wasn't going to, but here's one more from the Washington Post: (I won't comment on it...but you GOTTA read it. It's ridonkey.)
In closing, the Wife was a bit perturbed to find out that her sign is now Ophiuchus. I call her Octopoopus.
REMAIN CALM! ALL IS WELL!
Seriously...it's going to be alright. You're still going to wake up tomorrow. The world isn't coming to an end--well, not until next year, that is. You're not a different person than you were last week. You don't have to switch out your wardrobe and reevaluate your mp3 collection and sell your dog. It's going to be OK.
All this ridiculousness over the changing Zodiac signs is giving me a freakin' stress headache. I mean, I knew, before the announcement, that some people put a lot of stock into their daily predictions/affirmations/OVERLY-VAGUE PERSONALITY DESCRIPTIONS. But after reading a few too many post-article comments left by worried, lost, and otherwise terrified individuals proclaiming their "identity" would always and forever be [insert your sign here], it has become apparent to me that society is about as stable as Amy Winehouse's blood toxicity level. What does it say about our state of affairs when an alarming number of us base our day's decisions around a non-committal, 50-word blurb? Just for shits and giggles, I took a gander at today's sage wisdom from Horoscope.com:
This should be a stimulating day, Gemini. The possibility of a journey might arise unexpectedly. This could be exciting as some close friends or a romantic partner might accompany you. A new turn in your intellectual or spiritual interests could have your mind going a thousand miles an hour. You will want to learn more about it. The Internet could have useful information. Make the most of it.WOW. I don't know about you, but I'm floored. Miss Cleo couldn't have predicted it any better. Let's break it down. I did go to the bathroom a time or two more than usual...would that be considered a journey? (don't worry, the Wife didn't accompany me) And, come to think of it, I'm pretty sure my intellectual interests peaked a bit when someone told me about their obsession with the guy from the UPS commercials earlier today. Oh, and the Internet having useful information? Was anyone else aware of this??? All in all, a STIMULATING day.
Obviously, I'm laying down the sarcasm with a thickness. But people get seriously LOONEY over this stuff! Basing interactions...choices...relationships on this drivel??! My friend, if you're reassessing your compatibility with your spouse because you just were "downgraded" to a Leo, well, I only wish I was the shrink that is undoubtedly gonna make BANK from your impending existential crisis.
Ok, wasn't going to, but here's one more from the Washington Post: (I won't comment on it...but you GOTTA read it. It's ridonkey.)
Put on your Sherlock Holmes cap, get out your spare magnifying glass and call up whomever it is who plays Watson in your life: Today you've got a mystery to solve! Whether it's work-related or a purely personal matter, you're going to have to pay close attention to all the pertinent details. And remember, once you've ruled out everything that's impossible, whatever remains, however implausible, must be the answer.It was later revealed that--GADZOOKS!!!--your sign didn't necessarily change depending on which Zodiac you follow! Yup, that's right, there are two, count 'em, TWO different Zodiac systems: tropical and sidereal. Who knew?! So unless you follow that ol' Eastern, constellation-based organizational scheme, take a deep cleansing breath you Pisces-tattooed hipster...you're in the clear.
In closing, the Wife was a bit perturbed to find out that her sign is now Ophiuchus. I call her Octopoopus.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Vagina Dentata
WOW.
How did this little gem fly under the radar??? The gem of which I speak is the movie "Teeth," the existence of which I was recently informed by either the Cort and Fatboy or Whiskey and Beer podcasts (can't remember which one, but the discussion involving said movie was inappropriate for anyone under the age of "alive").
IMDB plot summary: Still a stranger to her own body, a high school student discovers she has a physical advantage when she becomes the object of male violence.
Please...PLEASE, I beg of you, have a looksey at the trailer:
EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THORNS??!!!! It doesn't get any better than this!!!!! Oh, Netflix...don't disappoint!!!
You know, just the other day I was thinking to myself, "Man, what I wouldn't give to watch a movie about a chick with jabber jaws in her hoohoo." And, POOF! Like a little gift from heaven, Teeth fell into my lap (oooo, bad metaphor...).
Seriously, though, can you imagine what the studio pitch meeting was like? Ohhhh, man, would I love to have been a fly on THAT wall:
Studio Exec: So...ok, let me make sure I'm getting this right. It's about a girl...
Producer: (excitedly) Uh huh...
Exec: ...who has teeth...
Producer: (nodding excitedly) UH HUH...
Exec: ...in her...
(Producer is brimming with elation)
Exec: ...VA...GINA??
Producer: (finger on nose) DING DING DING! It's gonna be huge! Like LORD OF THE RINGS-huge! Blood, guts, sex, vagina teeth, teenage angst...the possibilities are ENDLESS! We can bill it as a horror, a drama, a thriller, anything! Ok, maybe not a date movie. Or MAYBE! It's like Friday the 13th meets Debbie Does Dallas meets Predator meets Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants!! I'm seeing posters, lunchboxes, wallpaper, onesies...this thing is a pressure cooker of a movie and it's gonna tear the crotch off America!! We just need a star that people will believe that could have vagina teeth....oooo! Linsday Lohan! That's one's got definite vagina teeth potential. If she can just stay out of jail, that is. What a basket case, that one! But couldn't you just see her vag-biting some guys junk off?? Picture it: she's in a car with a guy, they pull over, he makes a move, they're getting it on and--BAM!--chomp city!!! He's there screaming bloody murder with his pants around his ankles and no ding dong, she's half-naked covered waist-down in crimson, vagina teeth gnashing away....WOW!!!
(Exec is frozen in awe)
Producer: HUGE!!!
How did this little gem fly under the radar??? The gem of which I speak is the movie "Teeth," the existence of which I was recently informed by either the Cort and Fatboy or Whiskey and Beer podcasts (can't remember which one, but the discussion involving said movie was inappropriate for anyone under the age of "alive").
IMDB plot summary: Still a stranger to her own body, a high school student discovers she has a physical advantage when she becomes the object of male violence.
In clearer terms:
THE GIRL HAD CROTCH TEETH.
Please...PLEASE, I beg of you, have a looksey at the trailer:
EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THORNS??!!!! It doesn't get any better than this!!!!! Oh, Netflix...don't disappoint!!!
You know, just the other day I was thinking to myself, "Man, what I wouldn't give to watch a movie about a chick with jabber jaws in her hoohoo." And, POOF! Like a little gift from heaven, Teeth fell into my lap (oooo, bad metaphor...).
Seriously, though, can you imagine what the studio pitch meeting was like? Ohhhh, man, would I love to have been a fly on THAT wall:
Studio Exec: So...ok, let me make sure I'm getting this right. It's about a girl...
Producer: (excitedly) Uh huh...
Exec: ...who has teeth...
Producer: (nodding excitedly) UH HUH...
Exec: ...in her...
(Producer is brimming with elation)
Exec: ...VA...GINA??
Producer: (finger on nose) DING DING DING! It's gonna be huge! Like LORD OF THE RINGS-huge! Blood, guts, sex, vagina teeth, teenage angst...the possibilities are ENDLESS! We can bill it as a horror, a drama, a thriller, anything! Ok, maybe not a date movie. Or MAYBE! It's like Friday the 13th meets Debbie Does Dallas meets Predator meets Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants!! I'm seeing posters, lunchboxes, wallpaper, onesies...this thing is a pressure cooker of a movie and it's gonna tear the crotch off America!! We just need a star that people will believe that could have vagina teeth....oooo! Linsday Lohan! That's one's got definite vagina teeth potential. If she can just stay out of jail, that is. What a basket case, that one! But couldn't you just see her vag-biting some guys junk off?? Picture it: she's in a car with a guy, they pull over, he makes a move, they're getting it on and--BAM!--chomp city!!! He's there screaming bloody murder with his pants around his ankles and no ding dong, she's half-naked covered waist-down in crimson, vagina teeth gnashing away....WOW!!!
(Exec is frozen in awe)
Producer: HUGE!!!
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Podcasts...my new best friends.
I just discovered podcasts.
Yes, smartass, I knew they existed. But I never before listened to one until recently when, upon realizing my job was boring to the point where I could periodically FEEL my soul escaping my body, I took the initiative to explore our favorite online media dispensary, the iTunes store. And, lo...what be this madness? FREE podcasts?! Saints be praised! (sidenote: my Mom, forever enamored with our changing technology, will 1) never understand how Skype can offer free videochat when she used to pay for long distance and 2) just doesn't "get" podcasts. Every time I try to explain, I end up sounding like a babbling moron:
Me: It's like a radio broadcast, but you download it.
Mom: So it's radio?
Me: Well, no...it's like radio, but it's not live.
Mom: Is there music?
Me: Well...no, not on the ones I listen to. Just people talking.
Mom: So it's not like radio?
Me: Well...NO. It's pre-recorded shows of varying content.
Mom: So it's like tv?
ME: Well.....NOT NECESSARILY. IT CAN HAVE VIDEO, BUT OFTEN IT'S JUST AUDIO.
Mom: So....how do you watch them?
ME: YOU DOWNLOAD THEM ONTO YOUR IPOD AND LISTEN!
Mom: ... ... ...Why don't you just listen to the radio?
ME: Bu--I w--no it's--the--AAAAARRRRRRHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
Here are a few newly-discovered gems currently in circulation on the ol' iPhone...if you don't like 'em, go argue it out with my Mom. And if you have any suggestions--for me or the 11 loyal FROBlog followers--feel free to leave 'em in the comments:
The ol' standard:
Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me! (NPR)
For the ethanolly-minded:
New Brew Thursday
Hopcast
Laugh it up, fuzzball:
Adam Carolla
Marc Maron
PS - spell check wanted to replace "podcasts" with "pederasts." REALLY close to accepting.
Yes, smartass, I knew they existed. But I never before listened to one until recently when, upon realizing my job was boring to the point where I could periodically FEEL my soul escaping my body, I took the initiative to explore our favorite online media dispensary, the iTunes store. And, lo...what be this madness? FREE podcasts?! Saints be praised! (sidenote: my Mom, forever enamored with our changing technology, will 1) never understand how Skype can offer free videochat when she used to pay for long distance and 2) just doesn't "get" podcasts. Every time I try to explain, I end up sounding like a babbling moron:
Me: It's like a radio broadcast, but you download it.
Mom: So it's radio?
Me: Well, no...it's like radio, but it's not live.
Mom: Is there music?
Me: Well...no, not on the ones I listen to. Just people talking.
Mom: So it's not like radio?
Me: Well...NO. It's pre-recorded shows of varying content.
Mom: So it's like tv?
ME: Well.....NOT NECESSARILY. IT CAN HAVE VIDEO, BUT OFTEN IT'S JUST AUDIO.
Mom: So....how do you watch them?
ME: YOU DOWNLOAD THEM ONTO YOUR IPOD AND LISTEN!
Mom: ... ... ...Why don't you just listen to the radio?
ME: Bu--I w--no it's--the--AAAAARRRRRRHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
Here are a few newly-discovered gems currently in circulation on the ol' iPhone...if you don't like 'em, go argue it out with my Mom. And if you have any suggestions--for me or the 11 loyal FROBlog followers--feel free to leave 'em in the comments:
The ol' standard:
Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me! (NPR)
For the ethanolly-minded:
New Brew Thursday
Hopcast
Laugh it up, fuzzball:
Adam Carolla
Marc Maron
PS - spell check wanted to replace "podcasts" with "pederasts." REALLY close to accepting.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
New Brew Thursday (...wooooooooooo!)
For those of you out there who dig the bubbly brew, here's a fun podcast about craft beer I started watching a few weeks ago (it's been around since 2009). New Brew Thursday features three staunch craft beer advocates (aka 'dudes') from Cali who taste beer and let you know what's up. It's entertaining, informative, and makes you very, VERY thirsty. Check out their most recent episode:
The good chaps at NBT can be found on Twitter at @newbrewthursday or on them internets at http://www.newbrewthursday.com/. Stay safe and drink beer! (yup...that's right...straight up ripped that one from the show. Awkward hug, anyone?)
The good chaps at NBT can be found on Twitter at @newbrewthursday or on them internets at http://www.newbrewthursday.com/. Stay safe and drink beer! (yup...that's right...straight up ripped that one from the show. Awkward hug, anyone?)
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Metro Crazy
I was sitting on the metro this morning, trying to defrost and not make eye contact with the crazies surrounding me, when the doors opened and Well-Dressed Crazy (hereafter "WDC") sat down next to me. Suit, nicely-coiffed, calf-length dress coat, leather gloves. Seemingly normal.
As goes with the Red Line, there are often delays. So, when we arrived at the next stop and the doors stayed open longer than usual, I wasn't surprised. My bench-mate, however, had not mentally prepared himself for this situation and let out an audible huff and shrugged at the door as if to say, "YOU MORON...WHAT ARE YOU DOING???"
Next stop, same delay. This time, WDC snarled, clenched his hands into fists and started shaking them by his side like a Tickle-Me-Elmo, grumbling something like, "...always trying to make us late...why do they do that...making us late..."
Next stop, same delay. WDC is poised to pop. He manages to keep it together at first...but it is evident that a nascent rage is brewing in his belly. Finally he says, "My GOD, what is WRONG with this train?!" as he thrusts his hands, fingers elongated, in front of his chest like Kevin Pollack mimicking an over-dramatic William Shatner. I continue with my Angry Birds, fearing for my life.
(btw, forgot to mention that this guy looks like Mortimer Duke from Trading Places with a voice just a shade higher than Barry White's. That paint a better picture for you?)
By the next stop it is apparent that WDC is ready to engage the train staff, conductor, and possibly even the train itself in mortal combat. The doors, as with the previous three stops, were open an extra few seconds longer than normal, causing my bench mate--still surprised by the delay, mind you--to spew forth with a tirade of grumbled admonishments that may or may not have been in English. I was busy slowly flexing my muscles in an attempt to get a stretch in before I would be tackled to the ground in blind rage. Just when I thought the end was nigh, the gentleman to WDC's right said to him:
*sigh*
Happy Wednesday.
As goes with the Red Line, there are often delays. So, when we arrived at the next stop and the doors stayed open longer than usual, I wasn't surprised. My bench-mate, however, had not mentally prepared himself for this situation and let out an audible huff and shrugged at the door as if to say, "YOU MORON...WHAT ARE YOU DOING???"
Next stop, same delay. This time, WDC snarled, clenched his hands into fists and started shaking them by his side like a Tickle-Me-Elmo, grumbling something like, "...always trying to make us late...why do they do that...making us late..."
Next stop, same delay. WDC is poised to pop. He manages to keep it together at first...but it is evident that a nascent rage is brewing in his belly. Finally he says, "My GOD, what is WRONG with this train?!" as he thrusts his hands, fingers elongated, in front of his chest like Kevin Pollack mimicking an over-dramatic William Shatner. I continue with my Angry Birds, fearing for my life.
(btw, forgot to mention that this guy looks like Mortimer Duke from Trading Places with a voice just a shade higher than Barry White's. That paint a better picture for you?)
By the next stop it is apparent that WDC is ready to engage the train staff, conductor, and possibly even the train itself in mortal combat. The doors, as with the previous three stops, were open an extra few seconds longer than normal, causing my bench mate--still surprised by the delay, mind you--to spew forth with a tirade of grumbled admonishments that may or may not have been in English. I was busy slowly flexing my muscles in an attempt to get a stretch in before I would be tackled to the ground in blind rage. Just when I thought the end was nigh, the gentleman to WDC's right said to him:
"They said we'd be delayed by a few minutes here and there."I fully expected WDC to pull out the man's heart where he sat, Indiana Jones-style. But, like a crying baby given a bottle, my crazed compadre relaxed his shoulders, unclenched his fists, raised his eyebrows and calmly said, "Oh, really? Ok," and went about sitting on our bench staring at the opposing wall as if he had not a care in the world.
*sigh*
Happy Wednesday.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Tales from the Elevator
The first time it happened, I let it pass.
The second time, I thought, "hmm...I wonder if this will be a trend."
When the third went down, I took it as a sign. Therefore, I present to you:
Awkward (yesterday)
Got into the elevator with an older gentleman wearing a bow tie and a really creepy permagrin. The parking level button was lit up, but I was going to the lobby so I pressed my button and stepped back. The fact that he kept looking over at me wasn't the awkward part--ok, it was definitely awkward--but what was MOST awkward was when the door opened on MY floor and he moved forward like he was leaving, causing me to pause. Then he turned to look at me. So I looked back at him. I wanted to leave...but I wasn't quite sure if he was heading out or WHAT, so I began to ask him what his intentions were in regard to getting out of the freaking elevator! But he made some sort of noise at the same time I started to speak which cut off my sentence...so I asked, "What?" And, basically, it just progressed in that ridiculous manner for another 10 seconds of awkward confusion until I decided to just leave it alone and walk out.
Annoying (today)
Back story: tired, cold outside, minimal coffee at this point, just want to get to my desk.
Entering the building well ahead of anyone else walking behind me, I approached the elevator area where there stood a woman who proceeded to hail an elevator. As it came and we entered (that's what she said?), she noticed a colleague walking into the building at the other end of the lobby. Again, let me reiterate that I was very eager to get to my desk and unwind from the morning commute. So, we're in the elevator and the door stays open for an EXORBITANTLY long time--at this point, I'm fuming. Then it begins to close at a nice leisurely if not slothy pace--finally, I think, the journey is coming to a close. BUT WAIT! What does my stout elevator companion proceed to do just as the two doors come to a grindingly slow close, but LUNGE FORWARD to press the "Door Open" button!!!! ????!!!! Then I'm standing there, waiting, with smoke pouring out of my ears while her friend casually strolls through the lobby and enters the elevator with us, the door AGAIN taking the length of time it takes to watch the entire ROOTS series to close.
Just...bizarre... (last Thursday)
After buying lunch from the singing sandwich lady downstairs, I get on the elevator to return to my nice, warm, cozy, safe desk on floor numero six only to be greeted by a short woman carrying a few Macy's-type bags and sporting a permagrin (yeah, I know, what's with all the permagrins? Really freakin' me out, here...). As the elevator doors close and we proceed upward, I notice the lady next to me is getting more and more excited, sort of like a teapot that's nearing a boil. Then--
[Ok, before I continue, I just want to state, for the record, that what you're about to read is what actually happened. No embellishment, no exaggeration. This is f'reals, ya'll.]
--without any sort of warning or notice, she turns to me, her face lit up like a octogenarian's birthday cake, and says in a high-pitched, shrieky crescendoed yell, "I can't wait to give my boss his Chriiiiistmaaaaaas presennnnnnnnnnnnnt!!!!"
If you know me, you know that few are the times when I'm found completely speechless. This was one of those times. Wide-eyed with, undoubtedly, a look of sheer terror on my face, I nodded and eeked out an "mm hmm?" She was now staring at me, open-mouthed, electricity surging through her veins, holding up one of her bags. "My boss likes to take notes at meetings, and I collected them and made a collaaaaaage!!!!!!!!!" she sang at me, "He's going to loooooooooooove iiiiiiiit!!!"
And with that, the door opened and she walked out of the elevator, still smiling, leaving me standing there frozen in bewilderment at the events that had just transpired.
The second time, I thought, "hmm...I wonder if this will be a trend."
When the third went down, I took it as a sign. Therefore, I present to you:
TALES FROM THE ELEVATOR!
(gasp at your own leisure...)
Awkward (yesterday)
Got into the elevator with an older gentleman wearing a bow tie and a really creepy permagrin. The parking level button was lit up, but I was going to the lobby so I pressed my button and stepped back. The fact that he kept looking over at me wasn't the awkward part--ok, it was definitely awkward--but what was MOST awkward was when the door opened on MY floor and he moved forward like he was leaving, causing me to pause. Then he turned to look at me. So I looked back at him. I wanted to leave...but I wasn't quite sure if he was heading out or WHAT, so I began to ask him what his intentions were in regard to getting out of the freaking elevator! But he made some sort of noise at the same time I started to speak which cut off my sentence...so I asked, "What?" And, basically, it just progressed in that ridiculous manner for another 10 seconds of awkward confusion until I decided to just leave it alone and walk out.
Annoying (today)
Back story: tired, cold outside, minimal coffee at this point, just want to get to my desk.
Entering the building well ahead of anyone else walking behind me, I approached the elevator area where there stood a woman who proceeded to hail an elevator. As it came and we entered (that's what she said?), she noticed a colleague walking into the building at the other end of the lobby. Again, let me reiterate that I was very eager to get to my desk and unwind from the morning commute. So, we're in the elevator and the door stays open for an EXORBITANTLY long time--at this point, I'm fuming. Then it begins to close at a nice leisurely if not slothy pace--finally, I think, the journey is coming to a close. BUT WAIT! What does my stout elevator companion proceed to do just as the two doors come to a grindingly slow close, but LUNGE FORWARD to press the "Door Open" button!!!! ????!!!! Then I'm standing there, waiting, with smoke pouring out of my ears while her friend casually strolls through the lobby and enters the elevator with us, the door AGAIN taking the length of time it takes to watch the entire ROOTS series to close.
Just...bizarre... (last Thursday)
After buying lunch from the singing sandwich lady downstairs, I get on the elevator to return to my nice, warm, cozy, safe desk on floor numero six only to be greeted by a short woman carrying a few Macy's-type bags and sporting a permagrin (yeah, I know, what's with all the permagrins? Really freakin' me out, here...). As the elevator doors close and we proceed upward, I notice the lady next to me is getting more and more excited, sort of like a teapot that's nearing a boil. Then--
[Ok, before I continue, I just want to state, for the record, that what you're about to read is what actually happened. No embellishment, no exaggeration. This is f'reals, ya'll.]
--without any sort of warning or notice, she turns to me, her face lit up like a octogenarian's birthday cake, and says in a high-pitched, shrieky crescendoed yell, "I can't wait to give my boss his Chriiiiistmaaaaaas presennnnnnnnnnnnnt!!!!"
If you know me, you know that few are the times when I'm found completely speechless. This was one of those times. Wide-eyed with, undoubtedly, a look of sheer terror on my face, I nodded and eeked out an "mm hmm?" She was now staring at me, open-mouthed, electricity surging through her veins, holding up one of her bags. "My boss likes to take notes at meetings, and I collected them and made a collaaaaaage!!!!!!!!!" she sang at me, "He's going to loooooooooooove iiiiiiiit!!!"
And with that, the door opened and she walked out of the elevator, still smiling, leaving me standing there frozen in bewilderment at the events that had just transpired.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
1.1.11!
Happy New Year, everyone! I got way too excited this morning when I was informed of today's date. And then I felt sad when I realized the next time we'll see an all single-digit date is February 2, 2022. But then I felt better when I realized there are lots of lesser but still fun dates that will occur in the interim: 1/2/12, 2/1/12, etc...
And then I thought...GOOD LORD, MAN...WHO CARES?!?!
Hope your 2011 is filled with all kinds of wonderful :)
And then I thought...GOOD LORD, MAN...WHO CARES?!?!
Hope your 2011 is filled with all kinds of wonderful :)
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