Proving that cool people DO exist in Connecticut ...

fyi, John Mayer was born in CT.
Though he was also smart enough to leave ...

From funnyordie.com

Proof that I'm ahead of the curve ...

It took until Sunday for the LA Times to pick up the Jade Jagger ice pick story ...

The Jagger Dagger, a $250,000 ice pick

WTF?? (round 2)

Try to tear your eyes away from the horror that is the Benji/Paris relationship and instead read the text to the right.


Now, we'll ignore the fact that $250k can easily pay for four years of college tuition for a moment, because what I am really confused by is ... why an ice pick? If you're going to drop $250k on a piece of jewel-encrusted crap, let alone throw a party for it, shouldn't it be something you can flaunt at every available opportunity without looking like an ass? I mean, you can't very well leave an ice pick lying out on the coffee table next to those nice big shiny books you leave lying around so people think you can actually read. Ice picks don't really lend themselves to special display cases, and you can't bring it out for a special occasion because, well, it's an ice pick and no one uses them unless they're spelunking (though something tells me this is not the same sort of ice pick). If I had $250k to throw around, I'd go for a bejeweled set of steak knives, or a goblet, or a tiara (though I guess the Crown Jewels would one-up anything you can get for $250,000). Basically, something you can actually use and show off to everyone at every available opportunity and show how gratuitously wealthy you are.

Adventures in Home Shopping

It's 4:30 in the morning on a Sunday and I'm just getting home from work. And no, I'm not a bartender. Or a hooker. Really, I don't do anything that should necessitate me working a 15 hour day on a weekend. But I digress. My whole point is that I'm a bit delirious at this hour of the morning and in order to fall asleep I need some background noise. Said job that busts my ass doesn't pay me anything, meaning I can't exactly afford cable, so I make do flipping through my 12 or so channels ... until I come across the non-cable equivalent of QVC. Normally I flip over this kind of stuff but my eyes are drawn to the guy pushing the selling points of a freaking huge sword while flanked by an enormous shield and some other unidentifiable shit that wouldn't be out of place in the Middle Ages. The guy talking sounds like he's from Appalachia and I'm pretty sure he's wearing flannel, and he's selling a lot of big-ass knives at 4:30 am. Even more bewildering is the fact that the phones are apparently ringing off the hook. I prefer to think that each of those rings represents an actual person somewhere deciding that they absolutely must have the Richard Childress Commemorative Fillet Knife with special tactical folder right now, which raises the following questions in my mind:

1. Who are these people, and why are they buying fucking combat knives at 5 am? More importantly, what are they going to do with them?
2. Are these knife purchases spontaneous, or do they reflect hours of laborious decision making, debating between the Stealth Viper line or or the black-bladed 15'' Final Destiny with sheath?!
3. If this is, in fact, a planned purchase, where does one learn of such shopping opportunities? Did they stay up all night in anticipation, or did they set their alarm?


Though, maybe I shouldn't make fun. Sure, Mr. Hick Salesman is probably pretty weird and may or may not have a criminal record, but we're both working in the wee hours of the morning and I'm pretty damn sure he's being paid more, judging by the incessant ringing of those phones.

Dammit.

Seriously?!

Way to go, Gov

In case you haven't read the news lately, our dear Governor of the fine state of New York has apologized for his actions that 'violate ... obligations to [his]family.' To put it more explicitly, his name has been linked with a prostitution ring that was discovered in the DC area. In an affidavit that was received by the NBC news, it is stated very clearly that Spitzer's involvement was specific to an “American, petite, very pretty brunette, five feet five inches, and 105 pounds" named Kristen. As stated quite aptly by my significant other, "Spitzer's political career is fucked." So, I may add, was Spitzer. Quite expensively, too (services rendered led to a charge of $4300). Given that his resignation is likely imminent, my advice would be for him to sign on as spokesman for the New York Department of Health NYC Condom ad campaign. His tagline? "Get some ... at any price."

Snapshot: Pommes Frites in the early morning

Last fall I had horrible insomnia and was waking up at around 4 am every day (note: insomnia may or may not have been the result of work-related anxiety that delayed the start of this blog and also resulted in me quitting my old job. See note at the top right of page.). I didn't have to be at work until 9 but hanging out around my apartment until 8:30 or so, absolutely exhausted but unable to sleep, made me grouchy so I'd pack up and get into the office way, way before I was actually required to be there. One morning I was out particularly early and saw the above site-- the daily potato delivery for Pommes Frites! For those of you who aren't familiar with this East Village establishment, they make pommes frites and only pommes frites, with about a zillion different types of dipping sauce. It is the ultimate drunk munchie, although if you're looking for something cheaper I'd go with Mamoun's. If you haven't to PF, get thee hence-- if they're going through this many potatoes in a day, you know they're good.