I wrote this post in March 2007. I cannot figure out why I didn't post it. The links don't work any more, but I will see if I can find out any more information and update you later.
Sometimes I don't post about a story because it seems so freaking obvious. But the kerfuffle about Israel's ambassador to El Salvador has been remarkably quiet. Okay, so it hasn't been totally ignored - Wonkette covered it - but it happened two weeks ago and it's just now getting press. It's not every day you hear about someone being found on their lawn, dressed in bondage gear, covered in sex toys, drunk, much less one involving a diplomat. From Israel. To El Salvador. Talk about diplomatic relations I have never even considered. Anyway, I have a couple of theories about this event:
1. If Israel had wanted this kept quiet, it would have been kept quiet. It's not like Tsuriel Raphael would be bragging about this. Take the ball gag out of his mouth, give him a cup of coffee, ship him back to Tel Aviv and tell the world press he resigned to spend more time with his family. It wouldn't even be a burp on the AP's radar. But here we are, with Israel telling it all around. I thought diplomats were known for their discretion, but I guess that's why they're recruiting now, huh?
2. "It's not like Tsuriel Raphael would be bragging about this", or would he? If you are a masochist, isn't this the zenith of mortification? Very few facts could make this story more embarassing, and if that's your bag, well, you can now die happy.
3. Was this story actually ignored for two weeks because its hard to pitch it from any angle in the mainstream media? I don't think the New York Times has touched it with a ten foot whip yet. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the priggishness of mainstream media makes editors apoplectic over stories like this one. It's like the Weekly World News meets The World.
4. Did a joke already exist that starts: "An Israeli, a Salvadoran, and a masochist walk into a bar...." or will someone need to write that now?
That's all I've got.
Finally, only two more days to join St. Scobie's Mock Brackets. To my anonymous commenter, I cannot help you unless you identify yourself. And if you've picked Oral Roberts to win it, then maybe no one can help you.
Showing posts with label wierd s***. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wierd s***. Show all posts
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Monday, January 25, 2010
What the? vol. 2 clarification
Just a brief follow-up to the post below:
1. By kneeless women, I didn't mean heroic wonder athletes like Sarah Reinertsen, who can probably pee anywhere she wants. In my mind, I envisioned a person who had complete legs which just did not have a joint midway to the floor, making lap creation a complete impossibility. I now hope that this physiognomy doesn't exist so I don't have to write something else hilarious.
2. It turns out that this product may be targeted towards transexuals who are transitioning from female to male. While this explains better which women might be interested in standing to urinate, it doesn't explain how this product solves their problem. I imagine a new female-to-male on an outdoorsy date with a woman, overcome with a need to relieve himself. How exactly does he employ the P-MATE in a way that doesn't kill his chances with his date?
So much in this world is just beyond my grasp.
1. By kneeless women, I didn't mean heroic wonder athletes like Sarah Reinertsen, who can probably pee anywhere she wants. In my mind, I envisioned a person who had complete legs which just did not have a joint midway to the floor, making lap creation a complete impossibility. I now hope that this physiognomy doesn't exist so I don't have to write something else hilarious.
2. It turns out that this product may be targeted towards transexuals who are transitioning from female to male. While this explains better which women might be interested in standing to urinate, it doesn't explain how this product solves their problem. I imagine a new female-to-male on an outdoorsy date with a woman, overcome with a need to relieve himself. How exactly does he employ the P-MATE in a way that doesn't kill his chances with his date?
So much in this world is just beyond my grasp.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
What the? vol. 2
In the department of "problems I didn't know I have, solutions I don't want", my friend Jen shared a link to this website. That's right, P-Mate USA has finally brought a product to market that helps a woman (I assume; I guess men could use it too) pee standing up. Peeing standing up has never been an aspiration of mine, so I guess I was never really looking for this product. But I want to keep an open mind, so I've created my own FAQ about this product:
1. Why? Some women want to pee standing up. Also, some women find it hard to squat down to pee. Others don't like to hover over dirty toilets in the Port Authority. Fair enough. The pictures on the website show adventurous women, setting off on hikes, bike riding, looking at the Jersey City skyline - you know, adventure stuff.
2. But if they feel awkward squatting down in the tall grass to pee, how much easier will it be to stand upright with a little origami penis sticking out of their pants? It won't be. In fact, adventure women are unlikely to need this product. Adventure women love to do the wild wee. UNLESS THEY DON'T HAVE KNEES. That's right. It's hard to squat if you don't have knees, so this product is for you, adventurous kneeless women. God bless ya! Get out there!
3. Does it really constitute an endorsement if
Ellen DeGeneres |
I'm gonna say, no, it doesn't.
4. How do I dispose of this product? Apparently you can recycle this item, but I am sobered by the thought of the Waste Management employee considering which pile a damp, smelly triangle of badness should be thrown into. Which strongly suggests that this should be composted instead.
5. No seriously, who uses it? From a close reading of the website, and in particular the testimonials and photos pages, the answer is: Europeans and people at Burning Man, which means the same thing. No one has ever accused me of being either, so I will get back to work on my patent for a compostable upright urination device.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Totally Inexplicable
Can someone please tell me what this blog post says? I don't have time this minute to re-post the photo, so you just need to go see it and then someone come back here and explain what is going on. Thanks.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Oakland Grody
For some reason, I decided to trek* around Lake Merritt today. Lake Merritt is a natural estuary that works like a bladder for the San Francisco Bay, meaning that its job is to clean the gross stuff out of the bay and send the water back out into the world cleaner than it entered. No matter how hard Oakland boosters try to defend this "lake", the fact remains that it is gross, a little smelly, and the surrounding area is covered in goose poop and meandering homeless/junkie-type people (not inherently the lake's fault). The grodiness of it today was heightened by the guy who was jogging with a quart of Half and Half in one hand. So, not going back to trek around Lake Merritt again any time soon.
* I use "trek" here to mean "try running, but ultimately just walking fast"
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Did You Know?
I have a lot to blog about, but did you know that Michael from ET is a mailman in Phoenix now? How wierd is that?
This is my first blog post on my new MacBook laptop. hoot hoot!
ET is terrifying, by the way, even 26 years later.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Some Days, You Get a Little Gift
The Tree Sitters are being fined for the costs associated with their nasty little public disturbance. You remember the Tree Sitters: I blogged about them here and here. You'll need to chuckle for a moment, because my next Berkeley story may make you sick to your stomach.
A woman I work with (who lives in Bkly) has a unit on her property that she rents to another woman. Let's call the first woman "A" and the second woman "B". In preparing to have the unit renovated, A learned that B was a horder, and it took some doing to get the place cleared out enough to have the work done. Fast forward. After completing recent electrical work, the electrician reports to A that she has some water damage below her bathroom. A calls the plumber. The plumber investigates, and notifies A that the toilet has not been used for years. Literally years. The toilet is bone dry, most of the works are missing from the tank, and the rubber pieces have cracked and crumbled from years of aridity.
What's that about? Where's the, you know, everything?
As for my annual Burning Man screed: I am worried about my blood pressure, and if I write about such infuriating topics I might burst a blood vessel. But you can find earlier posts here. I will tell you this: I was talking to a woman who works for a high profile, well-regarded non-profit which works to safeguard the Constitution (hint: it rhymes with A-C-L-goo) and she told me that they went to Burning Man to protect free speech. That galls me more than their defense of Nazis and guns. Of course, no one there wanted to trample free speech because people who hate free speech don't want to poop in the desert with idiots all week, so they were sort of bored. She did feel that they did protect the 4th Amendment, since drug busts are the primary occupation of law enforcement at the Festival. Which makes sense, since drugs, and not "free speech", are the point of that stupid affair.
A woman I work with (who lives in Bkly) has a unit on her property that she rents to another woman. Let's call the first woman "A" and the second woman "B". In preparing to have the unit renovated, A learned that B was a horder, and it took some doing to get the place cleared out enough to have the work done. Fast forward. After completing recent electrical work, the electrician reports to A that she has some water damage below her bathroom. A calls the plumber. The plumber investigates, and notifies A that the toilet has not been used for years. Literally years. The toilet is bone dry, most of the works are missing from the tank, and the rubber pieces have cracked and crumbled from years of aridity.
What's that about? Where's the, you know, everything?
As for my annual Burning Man screed: I am worried about my blood pressure, and if I write about such infuriating topics I might burst a blood vessel. But you can find earlier posts here. I will tell you this: I was talking to a woman who works for a high profile, well-regarded non-profit which works to safeguard the Constitution (hint: it rhymes with A-C-L-goo) and she told me that they went to Burning Man to protect free speech. That galls me more than their defense of Nazis and guns. Of course, no one there wanted to trample free speech because people who hate free speech don't want to poop in the desert with idiots all week, so they were sort of bored. She did feel that they did protect the 4th Amendment, since drug busts are the primary occupation of law enforcement at the Festival. Which makes sense, since drugs, and not "free speech", are the point of that stupid affair.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
While We Are On the Topic of Celebrities
I saw a picture today of a comedian I really used to like, and remembered that I was once likened to him. That got me thinking about other celebrities I have been compared to. From best to worst:
1. Isabella Rossellini: In the dark days of my pre-teen years, when I self-destructively wore a side-tail and many many grotty friendship bracelets, an old friend of my mother's told me that I looked like Rossellini. It was intended to make me feel better about myself at a time when that was impossible. It did help in the long run, I think. At the time, it didn't work to improve my self-esteem, but I think it shortened the time it took over all for me to eventually develop better self-esteem. If that makes any sense.
2. Linda Evangelista: A girl in my high school class kept pictures of models on her locker door, and one day, she yelled out to me, "Hey, you look like her. At least, your nose does." She was pointing at a picture of Evangelista. Having developed some self-esteem by that point, I decided to take this as a compliment, and not the wierd dig at my nose she probably intended.
3. Albert from Little House on the Prairie: Certain people who will recognize themselves without me having to describe them once told me that I looked like Albert from Little House. My healthy self-esteem has decided to say that this was solely because of the haircut Albert and I shared, and I would prefer that no one disabuse me of this notion.
4. Emo Phillips: There was another girl I went to high school with who was in a school play at our "brother school". When my boyfriend at the time told her that he and I were dating (or whatever), she said, "You mean the girl that looks like Emo Phillips?" The boyfriend, sort of to his credit, I guess, said, "I think Emo Phillips is hot." He also told me that he saw her changing in dress rehearsal and that her nipples were as big as pancakes. So now you have that image in your head too.
1. Isabella Rossellini: In the dark days of my pre-teen years, when I self-destructively wore a side-tail and many many grotty friendship bracelets, an old friend of my mother's told me that I looked like Rossellini. It was intended to make me feel better about myself at a time when that was impossible. It did help in the long run, I think. At the time, it didn't work to improve my self-esteem, but I think it shortened the time it took over all for me to eventually develop better self-esteem. If that makes any sense.
2. Linda Evangelista: A girl in my high school class kept pictures of models on her locker door, and one day, she yelled out to me, "Hey, you look like her. At least, your nose does." She was pointing at a picture of Evangelista. Having developed some self-esteem by that point, I decided to take this as a compliment, and not the wierd dig at my nose she probably intended.
3. Albert from Little House on the Prairie: Certain people who will recognize themselves without me having to describe them once told me that I looked like Albert from Little House. My healthy self-esteem has decided to say that this was solely because of the haircut Albert and I shared, and I would prefer that no one disabuse me of this notion.
4. Emo Phillips: There was another girl I went to high school with who was in a school play at our "brother school". When my boyfriend at the time told her that he and I were dating (or whatever), she said, "You mean the girl that looks like Emo Phillips?" The boyfriend, sort of to his credit, I guess, said, "I think Emo Phillips is hot." He also told me that he saw her changing in dress rehearsal and that her nipples were as big as pancakes. So now you have that image in your head too.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Post 498 - Wierd Politics Edition
Here are some wierd things that have happened as a result of getting involved directly in politics:
1. I was friended on Facebook by California Secretary of State Debra Bowen, who seems to actually update her own profile on a fairly regular basis. I think its probably her because there's a lot of stuff about her gardening hobby, and also her thoughts on new voter registration forms.
2. My efforts to use the hometown, labor-friendly bank for my campaign account are making me long for the pleasures of impersonal online banking with a multinational corporation. It takes so damn long to do everything when there is (1) only one branch, (2) no ATMs, (3) no debit cards and (4) an online interface that only offers your balance. I actually had to get my online password by emailing a woman named Lori. Its killing me over here.
3. I've learned that everything is political. And that you can't be thin-skinned or else you will die of the paranoia.
1. I was friended on Facebook by California Secretary of State Debra Bowen, who seems to actually update her own profile on a fairly regular basis. I think its probably her because there's a lot of stuff about her gardening hobby, and also her thoughts on new voter registration forms.
2. My efforts to use the hometown, labor-friendly bank for my campaign account are making me long for the pleasures of impersonal online banking with a multinational corporation. It takes so damn long to do everything when there is (1) only one branch, (2) no ATMs, (3) no debit cards and (4) an online interface that only offers your balance. I actually had to get my online password by emailing a woman named Lori. Its killing me over here.
3. I've learned that everything is political. And that you can't be thin-skinned or else you will die of the paranoia.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
What We Did
Ten days may be a wee too long to spend in Williamsburg Virginia when you don't intend to pay to take the full-blown Colonial Tour. The kids had a great time, and it was nice to spend time with my family. It was basically the Tour of Lesser Attractions. The "pirate ships" at the Jamestown Settlement, the Living Museum, the Portsmouth Children's Museum, the Hampton Naval Museum (free!), the USS Wisconsin (also free!), Prime Outlets coming out the wazoo and the various municipal parks of James City County. All of them deserve a B+ for fun. The highlight for me was the "adventure" Liam and I had "exploring" the swamp behind my mom's house. Freshwater clams and rotted stills abound.
The only attraction I am sorry we missed is the much-hated Presidents' Park. Much-hated by the residents of Billsburg, is what I mean. I am sure hipsters and ironic-iphiliacs will love the place. This dude thought the world needed gigantic busts of all the presidents but the good citizens of Williamsburg most assuredly disagree. Its the sort of thing you just don't do. Colonial Williamsburg (tm) sued the guy to stop him, but he shrewedly built on county land, so they can't touch him. I love when cases get resolved on jurisdictional grounds.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
A Taste
Because of Routergate, I will do a teeny bit of blogging from work today. For my co-worker readers, let's all pretend I am taking my lunch break early here. Not that she cares. Anyway, rather than write about Margaret B. Jones (nee Margaret Seltzer) myself, I think I will let Undercover Black Man occupy the field of criticism on this one. I will add this one thought, however: When I heard that her sister turned her in, I thought of Ted and David Kaczinski. I really hope my sister never does any wacko, high profile weird thing that causes me to narc on her. But I don't doubt she has the nerve to call it in on me. Which is a good thing. So, sister, I promise not to fake my memoir, or bomb anyone, or whatever, so you don't need to bring in the Feds, or my publisher, or the New York Times, or Mom, or whoever.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
I Don't Buy It
The CW has it that a prolonged primary season hurts the Dems because Hillary and Obama will beat eachother up while McRomnabee sits back and rakes in cash and runs a general election campaign all by themselves. But the conventional wisdom was that the Repugnicans were going to have a brawling contest all the way til their September convention until just before Florida. So the pundits need to chill out.
Also, other than Bill Clinton's obnoxious racial bullshit in NC, I just don't think that the Democrats have been that brutal yet. At least not as brutal as Hillary has it in her to be. Obama and Edwards have really kept her in check, but her lack of totally explicit backstabbing has made this campaign season pleasant, even fun. I just don't think she can go negative without hurting herself.
Anyway, that's all for my punditry tonight.
Re: Breakfast soup. Listen Mr. "Carry Okey", I was blogging via handheld device and didn't feel like googling breakfast soup while driving. I think that's against the law anyway. (Googling while driving, that is, not breakfast soup. Although any recipe that includes bacon and bacon drippings and, like, a carton of eggs, is surely going to be outlawed soon).
Also, other than Bill Clinton's obnoxious racial bullshit in NC, I just don't think that the Democrats have been that brutal yet. At least not as brutal as Hillary has it in her to be. Obama and Edwards have really kept her in check, but her lack of totally explicit backstabbing has made this campaign season pleasant, even fun. I just don't think she can go negative without hurting herself.
Anyway, that's all for my punditry tonight.
Re: Breakfast soup. Listen Mr. "Carry Okey", I was blogging via handheld device and didn't feel like googling breakfast soup while driving. I think that's against the law anyway. (Googling while driving, that is, not breakfast soup. Although any recipe that includes bacon and bacon drippings and, like, a carton of eggs, is surely going to be outlawed soon).
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Squishy Brained
Despite the facts that its name makes it clear what the product is, it took me more than a minute to figure out what a PB Slice is. This item, perversely, solves a problem that I knew I had (I hate spreading peanut butter, for fear of injuring the bread) but which I didn't really care to solve.
It also probably doesn't solve this problem:
h/t M.
It also probably doesn't solve this problem:
Arachibutyrophobia is the fear of getting peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth.But now that I think on this, it would be good under a piece of Taylor ham pork roll, wouldn't it?
h/t M.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
The Things You Can Learn
Now that I have a second child who demands internet searching at the drop of a hat (but who can't say carcaradontaurus or F-4 Phantom yet), I have learned a lot of about "tucks", "buh-doh-dahs", "dump tucks" and "jij-uhs" (that last one is "diggers"). We came across this photo tonight, of a giant dump truck getting a tire change, and it really resonated with me. That dump truck is me.I also learned about a product called Tractor Jackets. Who knew? It seems unnecessary, and yet, how would I know? It now reminds me of auto parts place near my grandparents, which, during my childhood, advertised "car bras". I was too embarassed to ask what it meant. Would that I had Google back then. Or a Google. Anyway, I was so disappointed when I found out what they were. But I also felt liberated to ask more questions that I didn't know the answer to.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
This Is It?
So that's it then? Freeze a pitbull and call it Chupacabra? I don't know, I expected it to be scarier. More Satan than Spuds McKenzie.
Like many from Mexico, this chupacabra was found in Texas. (Is that offensive?)
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Crazy People Visiting; and, My New Favorite Band
First, I want to welcome Anonymous*, a commenter on Breaking Up Is Hard to Do, who has this to say about my antipathy for my dentist:
Mr. Marans, is that you?
The other day I heard Somehow at Sea on KALX. I liked them. Check them out. They have a GREAT song called Perfect Game that is inexplicably not on their MySpace page. So call KALX (642-KALX) and ask them to play.
* A different Anonymous, I assume, than the one who accosted me about my AndyRooneyness
Hum....interesting timing for such an angry and hate-filled letter. To go to such length and detail to write such ugly untruths; one might think that the writer (and perhaps interested others) were trying to hurt Dr. McKinzie's reputation?...For those of you seasoned souls who have read about "Andreas" devastating experience, I invite you to reconsider. Trust me, there's more than meets the eye here. I pity those desparate individuals who feel compelled to stoop to this level.
Mr. Marans, is that you?
The other day I heard Somehow at Sea on KALX. I liked them. Check them out. They have a GREAT song called Perfect Game that is inexplicably not on their MySpace page. So call KALX (642-KALX) and ask them to play.
* A different Anonymous, I assume, than the one who accosted me about my AndyRooneyness
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Why?
Sorry to be all judgey and shit, but why does someone think this is a good idea? Note: This woman already has a 33-year old. This is like if my mom decided to have another kid. Or twins. Only my mom is not even 62-years old yet! So its more like my mom having twins when I am, what? Well, in order to not divulge my mother's age, I'll just say "older". Like my own kids will be in elementary school. Probably getting sex ed talks of their own in this hippie-dippie, drown-them-in-TMI-so-they-still-think-a-girl-can-get-pregnant-in-a-hot-tub town.
Awright, I'm babbling.
Awright, I'm babbling.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
A Really Verbose Entry - Worse Than the Prior Post
Wow. It was quite a weekend. Lots to blog about. Actually, don’t get your hopes up. The stuff that happened is exciting at the level of, well, blogging about, but it will not leave a lasting impression, or have a kicker of a punchline or anything. But I’ll give it my best shot.
Yesterday I took the kiddos to the zoo, which would not be notable in itself, but there was a guy being led around the children’s area on a leash by a much older, slovenly and obnoxious woman. He was in his thirties, black jeans, black T-shirt, leather collar, black leash. She was in her sixties, very heavy, wearing maybe cullottes, white hair, fanny pack. They were with another couple, both heavy and in their sixties. He was wearing a leather vest, leather cap and had a very dark thick van dyke beard and a shaved head. His lovely mistress was wearing shorts, a big red T-shirt, and had two braids, like she was Heidi. I tried to ignore them – and hope Li didn’t ask – but dog mistress kept yelling out loud comments to The Bear dude. “I feel like Peabody and Sherman!” God, poor Peabody and Sherman.
This little show irritated me at the time, but I got progressively more annoyed by it as the day wore on. For a variety of reasons (none of them my own sexual predilection), I have had cause to think about the leather subculture, and as a general matter, I just find it annoying and slightly pathetic. Why do people need to go through all the rigamorale to get off? That's sort of a bummer for you, if you need costumes and equipment to get into it.
Anyway, for this pair, it's clearly part of the thrill to go out in public and be seen behaving this way. But the part that makes it awful is that the intended audience for this little parade were zoo visitors (or -- horrors! -- the animals?), which at the Oakland Zoo at 10:30 on a Saturday morning, is people under the age of 5 and their parents. Making it a sort of reverse kiddie porn or something. I mentioned this to a friend last night and she thought maybe they were just in the kids' area because they'd seen the rest of the zoo, and also the Oakland Zoo is small, but it isn't like outside the kids' area, there were any more adults. I guess the thrill for this couple is to go to the place where they would be least expected, and to be seen there. And that's hot? I am just lost on this one. And grossed out.
And so then last night was Paladar Temescal, which seemed really fun at the time but today's wicked hangover sort of colors its memory.* We sat with a group of people who were pretty random, including a dead ringer for Teri Garr and who was so loud that I was dumbstruck and became a reserved consumer of her wit. Which was hit or miss, by the way. She laughed very loudly at her own jokes, and at one point made offensive remarks to another woman at our table which were so ballsy, I thought I would die. She said that she and her friends would invent fake stories for each of us, and then proceeded to say that the only Asian woman at the table was a mail order bride. By the end of the night, Teri had become . . . almost the father of the bride at the end of the reception, pouring more wine, laughing loudly but also possibly on the verge of tears, just saying shit that everyone later pretends wasn't said. She was awesome. One of her friends looked like Cheryl Crow. Cheryl, to her credit, was suitably mortified by Teri's awesomeness.
Today was a lackluster Mother's Day, but I am not blaming that on Mr. Scobs and the kids. They cleared out and the only thing I could think to do was drive to The Gap to see if I could find some new workout pants. So lame. It was the hangover. I probably had all of three glasses of wine, and I am such a wuss, I've been holding my head all day. Who cares, right? I only mention today to tell you that a very sad watershed event occurred at dinner tonight. Li, who is in the habit of asking, "When you were little, did you like ___?" all the time, asked, "When you were little, did you like the Yankees?" I said, no. He then asked, "Do you like the Yankees now?" which brought B back into the dining room to say, "We are Red Sox fans and we think the Yankees stink." To which, L said, "I like the Yankees."
You know that cartoon sound where the car skids off the road, and there's the squeal of breaks and the smash of chrome? That sound happened in our dining room tonight. It sent B around the bend. He's so mad. Li then asked me who someone in the sports section was (Derek Jeter) and he walked around asking about Derek Jeter all night. He's clearly figured out a way to piss off his dad without there being any repercussions. B has decided to ignore it in hopes that this will pass, but possibly his greatest fear, just short of our kids getting addicted to drugs, is that they will be Yankees' fans.
*The Paladar was actually fun, and delicious, but raving about it would bury the lead, which was Teri Garr.
Yesterday I took the kiddos to the zoo, which would not be notable in itself, but there was a guy being led around the children’s area on a leash by a much older, slovenly and obnoxious woman. He was in his thirties, black jeans, black T-shirt, leather collar, black leash. She was in her sixties, very heavy, wearing maybe cullottes, white hair, fanny pack. They were with another couple, both heavy and in their sixties. He was wearing a leather vest, leather cap and had a very dark thick van dyke beard and a shaved head. His lovely mistress was wearing shorts, a big red T-shirt, and had two braids, like she was Heidi. I tried to ignore them – and hope Li didn’t ask – but dog mistress kept yelling out loud comments to The Bear dude. “I feel like Peabody and Sherman!” God, poor Peabody and Sherman.
This little show irritated me at the time, but I got progressively more annoyed by it as the day wore on. For a variety of reasons (none of them my own sexual predilection), I have had cause to think about the leather subculture, and as a general matter, I just find it annoying and slightly pathetic. Why do people need to go through all the rigamorale to get off? That's sort of a bummer for you, if you need costumes and equipment to get into it.
Anyway, for this pair, it's clearly part of the thrill to go out in public and be seen behaving this way. But the part that makes it awful is that the intended audience for this little parade were zoo visitors (or -- horrors! -- the animals?), which at the Oakland Zoo at 10:30 on a Saturday morning, is people under the age of 5 and their parents. Making it a sort of reverse kiddie porn or something. I mentioned this to a friend last night and she thought maybe they were just in the kids' area because they'd seen the rest of the zoo, and also the Oakland Zoo is small, but it isn't like outside the kids' area, there were any more adults. I guess the thrill for this couple is to go to the place where they would be least expected, and to be seen there. And that's hot? I am just lost on this one. And grossed out.
And so then last night was Paladar Temescal, which seemed really fun at the time but today's wicked hangover sort of colors its memory.* We sat with a group of people who were pretty random, including a dead ringer for Teri Garr and who was so loud that I was dumbstruck and became a reserved consumer of her wit. Which was hit or miss, by the way. She laughed very loudly at her own jokes, and at one point made offensive remarks to another woman at our table which were so ballsy, I thought I would die. She said that she and her friends would invent fake stories for each of us, and then proceeded to say that the only Asian woman at the table was a mail order bride. By the end of the night, Teri had become . . . almost the father of the bride at the end of the reception, pouring more wine, laughing loudly but also possibly on the verge of tears, just saying shit that everyone later pretends wasn't said. She was awesome. One of her friends looked like Cheryl Crow. Cheryl, to her credit, was suitably mortified by Teri's awesomeness.
Today was a lackluster Mother's Day, but I am not blaming that on Mr. Scobs and the kids. They cleared out and the only thing I could think to do was drive to The Gap to see if I could find some new workout pants. So lame. It was the hangover. I probably had all of three glasses of wine, and I am such a wuss, I've been holding my head all day. Who cares, right? I only mention today to tell you that a very sad watershed event occurred at dinner tonight. Li, who is in the habit of asking, "When you were little, did you like ___?" all the time, asked, "When you were little, did you like the Yankees?" I said, no. He then asked, "Do you like the Yankees now?" which brought B back into the dining room to say, "We are Red Sox fans and we think the Yankees stink." To which, L said, "I like the Yankees."
You know that cartoon sound where the car skids off the road, and there's the squeal of breaks and the smash of chrome? That sound happened in our dining room tonight. It sent B around the bend. He's so mad. Li then asked me who someone in the sports section was (Derek Jeter) and he walked around asking about Derek Jeter all night. He's clearly figured out a way to piss off his dad without there being any repercussions. B has decided to ignore it in hopes that this will pass, but possibly his greatest fear, just short of our kids getting addicted to drugs, is that they will be Yankees' fans.
*The Paladar was actually fun, and delicious, but raving about it would bury the lead, which was Teri Garr.
Monday, April 30, 2007
A Day in Gotham
Well, the BART doesn't smell any better just because its free. Whew! What is up with not bathing?
With the Bay Area knocked on its commuting butt by the ravages of 8600 gallons of burning fuel, some accommodations must be made, I know. Things have gone smoothly though. Except for the grown woman I saw run up to a TV camera set up in the station and act like a fool, everyone seems to be coping. As on 9-11 and days after, people just live without. Without two major arteries through one of the country's busiest interchanges. I can say this with the full impunity of driving only to Alameda today.
Other SF sightings this week: Market Street at 6th and above IS Hamsterdam. Its wack.
And I saw a guy in high-heeled sneakers dragging a cross - its bottom on a wheel - down Kearney. Why the wheel? Jesus didn't get a wheel. I think I know one thing JWND and that's use a wheel to drag his cross.
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