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Archive for June, 2010

Some Other Letters In A Whole Different Kind of Order

Frank Zappa was on “Make Me Laugh” in 1978. He was tormented by The Unknown Comic and Gallagher. Frank Zappa did not laugh.

My respect for Frank Zappa just went up a notch. Especially after they shot him through the orange disco Space Mountain hyperspeed tube and made him look at Gallagher to try to win furniture for a woman with extremely huge Seventies hair.

(“Gallagher is STILL trying to make someone laugh” — random Youtube commenter.)

Damn, Your Cream Cheese Just Got Bested By This Other Kind Of Cream Cheese, Dawg…

OH MY GOD THIS RALEY’S STORE BRAND WHIPPED STYLE CREAM CHEESE IS DELICIOUS! YOU MIGHT NOT THINK IT WOULD BE TRUE BUT IT IS BETTER THAN PHILLY, IT IS BETTER THAN TRADER JOE’S BRAND, IT IS THE BEST, AND IT COSTS CHEAPER! THAT IS INSANE!

IT’S LIGHT AND FLUFFY AND SPREADS EASILY ON YOUR BAGEL OR WHAT HAVE YOU, TOAST, ANY KIND OF BREAD YOU WOULD ENJOY WITH BREAKFAST. YO, RALEY’S WHIPPED STYLE CREAM CHEESE, YOU THE BOMB, DAWG!

ONE DAY I WAS FINDING MYSELF WITH JAY-Z IN A DELIGHTFUL CAFE ON THE WEST SIDE OF NEW YORK — HOLLA BACK JAY-Z, YOU THE MAN NOW DAWG — AND HE GOES “THE SPREAD ON TOP OF THESE BAGELS LACKS A CERTAIN KIND OF FLAIR,” AND I WAS ALL LIKE WHAT U HIGH ON MAN, WHAT FLAIR WHERE IS THAT, AND HE POINTS AND GOES “BAGELS, THIS BAGEL IS NOT QUALITY, I WOULD DO IT UP LIKE THIS” AND THEN HE PULLS OUT A TUB OF RALEY’S WHIPPED STYLE, HE GOT IT IN CALIFORNIA ONCE AND NOW HAS HIS BOY SEND HIM OUT A SHIPMENT ON ICE EVERY THURSDAY, BECAUSE IF YOU KNOW ONE THING ABOUT JAY-Z IT IS THAT HE GOES THROUGH A LOT OF CREAM CHEESE, DAMN MY BOY BE EATING A LOT OF CREAM CHEESE. AND THIS ONE IS THE BEST, HE SAID, AND HE RECITED INGREDIENTS OFF THE TOP OF HIS HEAD, THEY JUST FLOW…

PASTEURIZED MILK AND CREAM, CHEESE CULTURE, SALT, STABILIZERS (WHICH MAY INCLUDE CAROB BEAN AND/OR XANTHAN AND/OR GUAR GUMS), NATAMYCIN (WHICH IS A NATURAL MOLD INHIBITOR IN CASE YOU AIN’T HEARD)
SO HE GIVE ME SOME OF HIS STASH AND WE BEEN TIGHT EVER SINCE. I WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT THAT 2 TABLESPOONS EQUALS ONLY 70 DELICIOUS CALORIES, AND AIN’T GOT NO TRANS FATS.

HAHA, NO SERIOUSLY YO, WHY LOOKIN’ AT ME LIKE THAT, CHECK OUT THESE DOPE BEATS. NOW LOOK, WHY IT GOTTA BE SURPRISING TO ANYONE THAT I AM A MAN THAT ENJOYS SPREADING SPREADABLE CHEESE ON TOASTED BREAD? ‘CAUSE ANYONE COULD PLAINLY SEE IF THEY LISTENED TO MY RECORDS CORRECTLY.

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Categories: Food Tags: , , ,

The Unimaginable Sadness of Cristiano Ronaldo

June 30, 2010 4 comments

Look at that man. You can basically see right through to the center of his soul. Can you personally even imagine such depths of pain?

I feel a broken man, completely disconsolate, frustrated and an unimaginable sadness.

Here’s Ronaldo suffering in Sardinia with Nereida Gallardo, with Paris Hilton in an LA nightclub, and with an unidentified woman you’ll never have in a location you can’t afford:

I am a human being and like any human being I suffer and I have the right to suffer alone.

In the next installment of The Unfathomable Pain of Being Ronaldo, the Real Madrid star drives ludicrously expensive sports cars at ridiculous speeds while weeping softly to himself.

Nobody ever goes there anymore

Wavves, King of the Beach (Fat Possum)

This will be the first Wavves album that ever didn’t end up making me feel like Nathan Williams still owed me something, even after I stole it from him.

Background (via Wikipedia):

Singer Nathan Williams experienced public breakdown as the band was unable to complete their set at the 2009 Barcelona Primavera Sound Festival. Williams, who admitted he’d taken a cocktail of ecstasy and Valium, fought with drummer Ryan Ulsh and insulted the Spanish crowd, who then pelted him with bottles and a shoe. Apologizing for their performance, Williams admitted the next day that he was addicted to alcohol. As a result, the band canceled the remainder of their European tour. Zach Hill, for the interim, from Hella replaced Ryan Ulsh as the drummer for Wavves. Two members formerly of the late Jay Reatard’s band, Billy Hayes (Drums) and Stephen Pope (Bass), joined Wavves in November 2009.

I wanna ask you one question…

How about deez nuts, China?

‘It’s spicy but not dry, and a little bit tender but not sticky, and it’s fresh and crisp,’ she said of her team’s recipe.

Come on China; eat our nuts. You know you want to.

A Nation of Assholes

Derpy derp derpa I love jeebus derp derp

Why don’t we just admit it?

Categories: Everything Else Tags: ,

We Gotta Make This Pie Higher!

How weird was Shakey’s? This is not part 2 of “food roundup,” but I wanted to get something out of the way: how weird was Shakey’s in its prime? How weird can you stand it, brother?

Shakey’s in its 1970s tudor-beamed and beer-soaked splendor provoked a marvelous and completely unprompted set of psycho-responsive feedback loops:

1) It’s Dark! We already mentioned that, but it bears repeating. So dark your eyes had to adjust to the lack of light dark. So dark that after you fetched your pitcher from the bar and your pizza from the counter and sat down at the shiny bench in front of one of the long, smooth, wooden tables, you more or less detected the presence of fellow diners by sonar, or in this case, nearby telltale sounds of furtive stuffing of faceholes with Mojo potatoes and chicken wings.

2) Quiet. Too Quiet. When they weren’t cramming their faces with exotic delights from the all-you-can-eat “bunch-a-lunch” buffet tables, people tended to speak in hushed tones at Shakey’s, although the plink-a-dink player piano never stopped playing, and the vaudevillian sounds of comedic uproar continually ushered forth from this nickolodeon machine or that game with a crank that cost a nickel where you tried to rescue a cow from a burning building with a crane. Even with the frequent addition of live entertainment, the guileless sounds of banjos and sousaphones only served to remind wary eaters that there is no escape from the pyrrhic victory of a plate full of 20 uneaten chicken wings set next to a plate entirely full of gnawed bones.

Sounds would rattle and dislocate inside the huge old barn-like structures, with the calm of a quiet corner suddenly overwhelmed by the sea-chanty singing ministrations issuing froth from the group of off-duty bunco officers currently occupying themselves with drinking in the “private room,” a side space off All-You-Can-Eat Alley containing a pool table, a Hamm’s Beer sign perpetually on the fritz, and a half dozen knocked-over metal-and-vinyl dining chairs, topped off with a healthy dollop of alienation and bitter resentment.

To your left are bathrooms. Enjoy the trip!

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Categories: Food Tags: , ,