Stairway to Heaven

Wagner, you're up.


(pictured, top to bottom: Rock Hudson, Tony Curtis, Robert Wagner)

Dancing, Underpants

Me? I'm overwhelmed with work leading up to my Germany trip.

My sister? "Nothing much happening here, just potty training and dancing."

I'd say for September 2010 it's CRD 0, Sister 1.

My Daddy Taught Me Good

Is the Internet making us Stoopid? Maybe.

And yet, if not for the internet, my life would not be richer for things like this.

To wit, this here, from a local Kansas City newscast, is enough of a gem:



But then some geniuses do this? If it was for this alone that Autotune, or even the Internet was invented - it'd be worth it.



God bless, America.

Debbie Reynolds Victorious

When I was born, my mother was given anaesthesia because in those days they didn't have epidurals (I always thought that they would make an epidural that would work from the neck up, which was a condition I aspired to for most of what I laughingly referred to as my adult life). Anyway, so my mother was unconscious. Now, my mother is a beautiful woman -- she's beautiful today in her 70s so at 24 she looked like a Christmas morning. So all the doctors were all buzzing around her pretty head, saying "Oh, Look at Debbie Reynolds asleep - how pretty." And my father, upon seeing me start to come through - crown with all the placenta and everything else (ugh) - my father fainted dead away. So now all the nurses ran over to him, saying "Oh look, there's Eddie Fisher, the crooner, on the ground! Let's go look at him!" So when I arrived, I was virtually unattended! And I've been trying to make up for that fact ever since.

- from Wishful Drinking (my copy is signed!)

of all these characters, who'd a thought Debbie, Liz, and Carrie would outlive Eddie Fisher, the Crooner?

Rest in Peace, sir.

Stars War

You know what's funny? This is.

Das Eilend of Lost Toys

So in a few short weeks I'll be off to Germany, and what will I do there?

Well, talk about books a lot, but I will have a fun weekend, Berlin-Style, so hopefully I can find these toys to bring back for every for everyone on my Weihnachten List.

Apparently, they are designed as educational toys to teach about mental illness. Whether they're for children learning about illnesses or patients, I'm not clear. Either way, they're sure to provide me with hours of fun!

There's Dub, eine Schildkröten suffering from das Depression.

Kroko, eine Alligator with Gestaltzerfall. And a cute pillow!
My favorite though is this sweet slow Flusspferde. Lilo here has, according to the website, been focusing exclusively on this jigsaw puzzle for months now and has not been speaking to anyone. He needs meine Hilfen!
God Bless You, nutty Germans. I'm excited for all your toys.

Bloody Bloody Waste of An Andrew Jackson

Dear Broadway,

I have long been a fan of your product, Enjoyable Theatre Experiences. However, recently I made the mistake of attending this show:


...which was the pits. On the plus side, the marketing gimmick was that tickets on the 20th were 20 bucks (an Andrew Jackson, get it?), as a way of stocking the seats with exuberant fans during previews. Clever, indeed. Clever in part because the whole time I was only thinking of how I had wasted $20 and not $100 or whatever you'll be charging soon enough.

The lead was solid, and many in the supporting cast were pretty great - making the horridness of the show all the more apparent. The plot meandered and didn't have much of an arc, the songs were pretty good but didn't approach the teen angst exuberance rock of Spring Awakening, but worst of all were the gay jokes.

I didn't realize that in 2010 it was still something to do, have villainous characters express themselves with lecherous or pansy gay behavior as an inside joke with the audience so we'd know they were "bad." Now, I'm a fan of mincing as much as the next guy, but if it's just mean-spirited, then all that's happening are jarring and negative moments that take the audience - me at least - out of the experience and set me off to wishing I was being taken out of the theatre.
At least in Diamonds are Forever, with those two stereotypes trailing James Bond, we have the excuse that this was 40 years ago, and also Dame Shirley Bassey. Andrew Jackson, you are no Dame Shirley Bassey.

It bothers me in particular because I heard such good things about this show when it was Off-Broadway, and nary a mention of this part of the show. And if it achieves the success of Spring Awakening, or Rock of Ages, or any of the other teen angst with swears and tight pants musicals, then it'll be a popular destination for high schoolers, and they'll be exposed to cheap humor based on stereotypes. Shame on you, Great White Way.

In conclusion, Broadway, you failed me. On the plus side, I had a nice night out with a chum and we had pizza after. On the minus side, I thought you could do better.

PS: For some levity, here's Mister Paul Lynde. The mincers will never hit these heights again.

One of The Greatest Cuts Of All Time

Recently I learned that Tommy Tune is selling his penthouse - here's the listing, if you're in the market. Also recently I saw Elaine Stritch vamp it up in A Little Night Music, a Broadway revival.

This made me remember this bit, perhaps the greatest documentary editing of all time.



God Bless, you Stritchy. God Bless you lots and lots.

Joan of Arcs

"She can't change her emotions in the middle of a scene without going through a sort of Jekyll and Hyde contortion of the face, so that when she wants to indicate that she is going from joy to sorrow, one must cut away and then cut back. Also you can never give her such a stage direction as 'telling a lie,' because if you did, she would practically give a representation of Benedict Arnold selling West Point to the British."

- F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1938 (via)

Guess What I Wear As A Hat?

My favoritest thing of the week.

Murder in da Club

Enjoy.
Murder in the Club by Wing Commander
Best. Thing. Ever.

This is for all the congressmen in Washington, D.C. with no entertainment while they eat their TV dinners.

Dustin. Dustin, The Wind

I mean, why not?

Zachs of a Feather

A truth I hold to be self-evident?

All Zachs like making the bed.

A Tale of Two Moussaka-teers (with Tears)

This is a story of what happens when two friends celebrate Labor Day by having some fun cookery times on the Sunday night.

Brian and I have cooked before, and we've cooked since, but I haven't documented our adventures in a while. Fortunately, this time our recipe didn't call for any chilis, so no one's privates got scalded.

Brian found this moussaka recipe on the internets, so we decide to give it a go.

Herewith our ingredients. My portion was purchased on the day of at my local Trader Joe's; Brian's portion was made with love the night before.

First thing you do, you take massive $1.49 TJ's eggplants and stripe them.

Also, you chop the onions. Even though I wasn't the chopper I had tears coming down my face worse than at the end of Pete's Dragon.

This photo illustrates a recurring mishap now that I finally own a sharp knife. Blood in the tomato water.


Also, never do this.

Here Brian demonstrates onion stirring. See the Vornado on the floor behind him? Helped with the weeping.

Then, the tomatoes got plopped in. We were near to overflowing.


Meanwhile, the eggplant was all cubed up...

...and then added to the tomato onion mix. As you can see, we had to split up the portions. I really need to use that BB&B coup and pick up a larger pan.

I don't have a lid for the cast iron pan, but my cheapie nonstick Ikea pan fits right on top!

Almost done!
To wit, our servings:


I ended up combining mine because I liked how all the flavors danced together in my mouth.

Et, voila. Enjoyment!


And that, is what Moussaka Friendship is all about.

The Japanese Google The Darndest Things

Some mornings, I choose to reflect on the what's and why's of the Internet.

For instance, a few months back I posted what I thought was a rather innocuous post to celebrate my friend Jesse's birthday.

Lo and behold, it's received the most comments of anything I've ever done.

The comments are all more or less like this
And of course if you click on the poster's name, you get taken to a Japanese Porn website.

I get one or two new comments a day from these folks. Are they googling each other's Japanese words and then landing here? Or are they all googling the same keywords from my post, which to me don't say anything about Japanese porn?

The Internet, and Foreigners. Full of mystery. And probably, peas and vinegar.

Letting Sleeping Pusses Lie

So innocent. No idea about the shark sneaking up on him.

And what's Manatee doing in the back there?

Labor Day RULES.

A Room Of One's Own

In case you're dying to know, here's what it looks like to be me all day.

Note the flat screen, a nice upgrade from the old digs.


Not sure why I have two of those Pixar lamps though, but so far they are my friends.

The view? Not so bad either.

Casual Friday! Time to put on my dungarees.

So This Is What I Do All Day

So, one of the last emails a friend at my OLD job sent me was a link to this bit at the HuffPo. It's a collection of some of the scariest children's books. And, since I'm so pooped from starting work, here's a redo.

Am I the only person I know with a fear of conjoined twins? Maybe I should have been read this as a child instead of Saggy Baggy Elephant.

This one is scary, but also bilingual!

This one just makes me sad.

Back to Poop! At my new job we publish books with this character in them, and I KNOW I won't be able to make it through new title meetings without giggling. Again.

Huh. All Animals Are Equal. Still, glad not to be the chicken here.

Yep, I'm scatalogically obsessed. I can't help it, I laugh.

In conclusion, The End. Now for Day 2!

First Day of Work!

Deodorant: check. Dress Shoes: check. Long Pants: check. Lint Roller: check. It all begins!