Words of Wisdom

During our junior year, Berney once sagely said, "Guys don't go to the gym to get strong. They go to the gym to get big."

Just thought I'd bring that up.

On a totally unrelated note, here's a neat little java app that shows you a light-up map of where the United States ZIP codes are.

Click

Does not include Hawaii, Alaska, or Canada, unfortunately. Random fact: The highest ZIP code in the US is 99950, which is centered around Ketchikan, Alaska.

Nightmare on Marina del Rey

So last night Silence of the Lambs, which I'd never seen, and Karate Kid, which I had seen some time ago, were both on at the same time. Rather than do the logical thing and choose between them, or TiVo one and watch the other, I decided to watch one until it got boring, go to the other, and repeat.

Problem is, I wound up having nightmares that Daniel-san was going to skin Mr. Miyagi alive and that Elizabeth Shue was the only thing stopping him, but she was busy delivering flowers to somebody in Calumet City.

Warning: Foul Language Ahead *ding!*

So I'm dogsitting for a coworker over the course of a few days this week, and that means that I have to get up rather early (for me, anyway) to get to her house, let the dog out, bring the dog in, and get to work in something that approaches when I'm actually supposed to be there.

Anyway, along the way I have several options for picking up a morning cup of coffee. Besides my apartment, of course; I rarely brew coffee there because a) I don't bake muffins while other people do, and b) I don't wanna mess with the grinder at 7:00 in the morning. I'm likely to end up with finely chopped french roast fingers. However, Bread Co (Panera), McDonald's, and QuikTrip have all been forward-thinking enough to station themselves along my route to my friend's house and then to work. How kind.

I've been to Bread Co in the morning, getting coffee and muffins, and it's a little crowded, but everything moves efficiently and they have that little number doo-floppit that keeps people moving at a nice pace, and keeps fights to a minimum.

McDonald's is cheaper, and has the advantage of having egg and cheese biscuits, which Bread Co is sorely lacking. The drive-through forces you to stay in your place, and the front counter has enough registers that there's not much confusion as to who's next, and where.

QuikTrip, though, is a madhouse. Bedlam. That's what QT is at 8:00 in the morning. Nurses, truckdrivers, police officers, and yours truly all jostling for position because we want to get our french vanilla mocha latte steamer with sugar-free amaretto flavor shots. It's an absolute clusterfuck of bumping, brushing, shoving, pushing, "excuse me, pardon me"ing assgrabbery.

I think I'll go again tomorrow.

These Waters Run Deep

Kirsten and I went to the Taste of Soulard pre-Mardi Gras event this Saturday, basically running around like idiots in 10-degree weather trying to decide weather we wanted shrimp remoulade or crawfish etouffe (neither; we had kielbasa jambalaya). Until last year, when we went to Taste of Soulard for the first time, I'd known Soulard was a culturally important part of town, and a historical district. I'd assumed that there were building codes (there are, but I won't post them because they're about 400 pages long).

But I don't think I'd really realized quite how ingrained the creole culture is in Soulard until this weekend. It's sort of like how you see all these movies about poor southern white folk, and you say, "Yeah, but that's just a Hollywood stereotype," but then you're driving in the back hills of Alabama and you realize how spot-on stereotypes can sometimes be.

Saturday, during our excursion, Kirsten and I stopped at the Soulard Farmers market - her for flowers, me for place to answer the call of nature.

Normally, in a urinal, one finds a flavored mint (for the love of God, don't eat it), a cage to hold said mint, and maybe some cigarette butts from folks who can't stop smoking long enough to take a leak.

Mine didn't have any of those things...instead, I saw a half-chewed crawfish claw.

God bless St. Louis.

Trendsetting

Last night, Kirsten's restaurant had its annual winter holiday party.

Last night, to clarify, was Sunday.

Last night, to clarify, was in February.

Perhaps the restaurant, though, is on to something. It's awfully hard to book a party room in December, because of all those wacky Christians celebrating Christmas, and all those wacky Christians' friends tagging along because they don't want to feel awkward and lonely. Now that I think about it, it's a fine idea.

So, save the date: On September 3rd, I'm holding my annual United States Independence Day party. Instead of a barbecue, we'll do the luge! Bring either your own sled or a guy from Switzerland.

Ha!

Great comic

For those of you who don't read VG cats...why not?

Super Bowl Complaints

A lot of hay is being made about the referee and the remainder of the official crew and their bumblin' and stumblin' in the Super Bowl©™® last night. I'm not going to make a statement either way; the Super Bowl is as high-pressure on the refs as it is on the teams, and they're bound to make mistakes. Whatever happens afterwards isn't really my purview - especially since I can name more members of the 1949 Green Bay Packers than I can current NFL officials.

However, the Super Bowl has been tainted lately by being in February. It used to be that no matter what else happened in the course of the season, the Super Bowl was always on the last weekend in January, at least since the advent of the 16-game season. Sometimes it was January 25, sometimes it was January 31st. Sometimes there were two weeks between the conference title games and the Super Bowl, sometimes there was only one.

After the September 11th attacks, the Super Bowl was moved from January 27th 2002 to February 3rd, because the NFL halted and then rescheduled a week of game play (the games originally scheduled for September 16th, if you must know). This started what has since been a once-broken trend of 5 straight Super Bowls played in February (random fact: Three of the last four Super Bowls leading up to yesterday were in February, and New England won them all).

I am agog, I am aghast (is Marius in love at last?). The Super Bowl being played in February cheapens the game, not to mention the Pro Bowl (which laid claim to the only NFL game being held in February for quite a while). The point of having the game at the end of January was to provide a real, legitimate bookend to the season - the month of January ends, the season ends. That's the way it worked. And now? Well, the season drags on into February, it gets muddled with Groundhog Day (It might be on February 2nd 2014, so save the date), there's Valentine's Day, and I'm totally flummoxed. Seriously.

Dearest NFL, teacher, mother, secret lover...move the Super Bowl back to January. Please. My sanity demands it.

On another note, if you missed any Super Bowl commercials or want to see any again, follow the links below.

Google Video
AOL's Super Bowl ad page.

"Super Bowl" and all related indicia are copyright, trademarked, registered, signed, sealed, delivered, and sold-their-souls-to-the-devil property of the National Football League. I don't own the words. I don't even own my car. Please, NFL, don't sue me.

Super Bowl Quote of the Day

"Mick Jagger just sounds awful - I just wanna smack him."
-Kirsten