german appetizer
posted by lefty at
8:04 AM
1 Comments
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Sunday, January 3, 2010
le barratin
the barratin shows up on google maps of the 20eme paris with a little martini glass. four of us went there for lunch and it makes me want to hit every little google map knife and fork and suitcase within a 2500m radius.
we showed up for lunch, just before the rush. typical windows onto the street with loud metal framed doors that don't shut perfectly, spartan tables and chairs, tile floor, and a simple small curved wooden bar from which you can see into the kithen.
only 2 tables large enough for us were free out of the 10 total, i wanted the one by the window. "desolee, c'est reserve!"
really?
"one guest is already here" and up pops a little furry happy cat head, "c'est sa place."
so we take a seat in back, in front of the bookshelf with magazines and other provided reading material and glance at the menu, which is a large chalkboard on the wall with imperfect elementary school script of today's 3 course offering for 16 Euro with a few choices.
periodically, one of the waiters climbs up on chair to erase what is 86'd with his sleeve and scribble in its replacement. it's almost like a twitter feed...
we chose a wine from the neighboring chalkboard, and it was served in a simple thick-bottomed bottle. my dining companions had the lentil salad to start, i had very tasty flaky fresh cod-stuffed peppers with endives drizzled with olive oil.
the other's main dish was the same delicious fresh cod on tomato and onions in a broth, i had a vegetable and beef cheek soup with meat so tender i never needed a knife. a bit of salt, but no knife.
all very simple plates, what you could probably make yourself if you really put your mind to it, but let's face it, you'd rather be here in this cozy place, eating bright, perfect comfort food made from items purchased the day before from the market down the street.
an elderly couple had been seated at the table with the cat, who simply looked on as i did, occasionally closing our eyes the way cats do when they purr and are just simlply content. the chef came out from the kitchen to help the waiter when the place became jammed, i kept wondering why that wasn't my brother instead, with heccubus seated next the old people, growling happily, smacking his tail against a purse while constable cuddlesworth plays stupidly with a man's shoelace?
we showed up for lunch, just before the rush. typical windows onto the street with loud metal framed doors that don't shut perfectly, spartan tables and chairs, tile floor, and a simple small curved wooden bar from which you can see into the kithen.
only 2 tables large enough for us were free out of the 10 total, i wanted the one by the window. "desolee, c'est reserve!"
really?
"one guest is already here" and up pops a little furry happy cat head, "c'est sa place."
so we take a seat in back, in front of the bookshelf with magazines and other provided reading material and glance at the menu, which is a large chalkboard on the wall with imperfect elementary school script of today's 3 course offering for 16 Euro with a few choices.
periodically, one of the waiters climbs up on chair to erase what is 86'd with his sleeve and scribble in its replacement. it's almost like a twitter feed...
we chose a wine from the neighboring chalkboard, and it was served in a simple thick-bottomed bottle. my dining companions had the lentil salad to start, i had very tasty flaky fresh cod-stuffed peppers with endives drizzled with olive oil.
the other's main dish was the same delicious fresh cod on tomato and onions in a broth, i had a vegetable and beef cheek soup with meat so tender i never needed a knife. a bit of salt, but no knife.
all very simple plates, what you could probably make yourself if you really put your mind to it, but let's face it, you'd rather be here in this cozy place, eating bright, perfect comfort food made from items purchased the day before from the market down the street.
an elderly couple had been seated at the table with the cat, who simply looked on as i did, occasionally closing our eyes the way cats do when they purr and are just simlply content. the chef came out from the kitchen to help the waiter when the place became jammed, i kept wondering why that wasn't my brother instead, with heccubus seated next the old people, growling happily, smacking his tail against a purse while constable cuddlesworth plays stupidly with a man's shoelace?
posted by lefty at
4:39 AM
0 Comments
Monday, August 31, 2009
capitol skyline pool party
i caught the next to last weekend of the spike'd pool party at the crapitol skyline pool...i have to admit the place has a miami ambiance that's quite lovely. michael jackson could be heard blaring all the way from the navy yard metro station.
my bro found something which might have been a tendon in his cheeseburger (included with entrance. good brunchin').
the speedos were plenty, the old ladies wrinkled into raisins were impressibly tan, drinks amazingly cheap and the pool unexpectedly deep!
for reals, it says 5 1/2 feet. i slipped in, with my sunglasses on trying to be classy and not to get my hair all wet and i quickly fell into the murky depths, got kicked by a guy on a dragon raft and clawed some girl's thigh when i thought i was going to drown. i wonder if they ever find anyone being sucked into the filter at the bottom of this endless abyss.
oh and then there's this article in the citypaper..couldn't they publish this in the beginning of summer? makes you wonder why there wasn't much of a line for the bathrooms...
all in all a good time, not that i would go every weekend or anything. though i'll probably bring a few baby ruths to toss in, just for fun.
my bro found something which might have been a tendon in his cheeseburger (included with entrance. good brunchin').
the speedos were plenty, the old ladies wrinkled into raisins were impressibly tan, drinks amazingly cheap and the pool unexpectedly deep!
for reals, it says 5 1/2 feet. i slipped in, with my sunglasses on trying to be classy and not to get my hair all wet and i quickly fell into the murky depths, got kicked by a guy on a dragon raft and clawed some girl's thigh when i thought i was going to drown. i wonder if they ever find anyone being sucked into the filter at the bottom of this endless abyss.
oh and then there's this article in the citypaper..couldn't they publish this in the beginning of summer? makes you wonder why there wasn't much of a line for the bathrooms...
all in all a good time, not that i would go every weekend or anything. though i'll probably bring a few baby ruths to toss in, just for fun.
Labels: review
posted by lefty at
7:38 AM
0 Comments
Monday, August 24, 2009
cultural sunday
last sunday, after drinking some champers and eating weenie tots in kalorama park i went to see this.
cool huge reflective ants, trippy photo-realism, some multi-media, silk creations and other stuff, like my friend who took me up to the rooftop.
the meridian center is cool, random, i can't believe i've never been before. wicked little patio and grand ornate inside, i'm a little surprised the place was so empty. then again, they may have wandered in circles like me looking for the entrance in the vortex of 17th and meridian.
anyway, one of the chinese paintings has some sort of predator creature in it, which was a fine interlude to see district 9. low budget, really? with its nano-second human bodies exploding into nothingness and a splatter of blood on the camera lens, a banal statement on segragation and tentacled creatures with hearts of gold. that's real culture for ya.
cool huge reflective ants, trippy photo-realism, some multi-media, silk creations and other stuff, like my friend who took me up to the rooftop.
the meridian center is cool, random, i can't believe i've never been before. wicked little patio and grand ornate inside, i'm a little surprised the place was so empty. then again, they may have wandered in circles like me looking for the entrance in the vortex of 17th and meridian.
anyway, one of the chinese paintings has some sort of predator creature in it, which was a fine interlude to see district 9. low budget, really? with its nano-second human bodies exploding into nothingness and a splatter of blood on the camera lens, a banal statement on segragation and tentacled creatures with hearts of gold. that's real culture for ya.
posted by lefty at
1:50 PM
0 Comments
Friday, April 24, 2009
hey hey vidalia happy hour
you're so sneaky vidalia - your tasty happy hour that features wine tasting and free hors d'oeuvres ends at 6:30 pm. i mean, who actually gets out of work early enough to start drinking before then? are you catering to the jobless? i don't think so, you're just luring me with your comfy pleather couches and pillows you can lounge on, the quiet fancy ambiance and the prospect of $3.50 maker's mark, those home made corn nuts and bready things and then, after my 5th drink you slap me the bill. you clever thing, you. no, i don't regret paying $10 for that awesome mushroom and goat cheese flatbread, or that charcuterie plate with those tangy chutneys that puts so many others to shame. but for the drinks and some potentially free food, i'll just know better next time...and start, end my workday earlier!
posted by lefty at
9:57 AM
0 Comments
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
air france mileage program totally sucks
yes, i'm a mile whore. i bet you i have three times as many miles as you have. ha!
and i have 14,000 times as many miles as you do on Air France, and i have to do something about them before august, or they expire. which has made me remember why i hate the air france mileage program in the first place.
first of all, the air france flying blue page is total shit. their FAQs don't answer a single useful question, so i'm going to re-write them.
Q: why does your website suck so much?
A: becauz our webmasteur has fewer good eyeballz zan your zombie-eyed cat! who eez not only blind, but cross-eyed too!
Q: why don't you ever count any of the miles i fly on air france?
A: becauz deez tings take time and effort, oh lala
Q: why do the people who answer calls to customer service try to speak french when they are obviously indian? or even worse, from Quebec?
A: it is charming, no?
Q: why do you give out paper menus on your flight when the choices are always chicken or pasta? it's a huge waste of paper
A: glossy paper menus, are so classy! like ze french. and it is not just chicken, it's roasted chicken provencale avec rosemary and garden vegetables! each and every one of our customers need to know this!
Q: why can't you buy miles if you need them, or give them away like every other mileage program. i can't even buy a train ticket or flowers with them, i'm totally stuck with these lame-o miles (i'm picturing the rollover minute commercial).
A: we are not everyone else, we are air france! our stewardesses are former fashion models, we do not subscibe to equal rights or silly anti-discimination laws.
so that's it. i either have to take a trip before july or i lose my halfway to a free flight miles. so i looked up skyteam flights to London and got a creepy message that maybe i shouldn't.
and i have 14,000 times as many miles as you do on Air France, and i have to do something about them before august, or they expire. which has made me remember why i hate the air france mileage program in the first place.
first of all, the air france flying blue page is total shit. their FAQs don't answer a single useful question, so i'm going to re-write them.
Q: why does your website suck so much?
A: becauz our webmasteur has fewer good eyeballz zan your zombie-eyed cat! who eez not only blind, but cross-eyed too!
Q: why don't you ever count any of the miles i fly on air france?
A: becauz deez tings take time and effort, oh lala
Q: why do the people who answer calls to customer service try to speak french when they are obviously indian? or even worse, from Quebec?
A: it is charming, no?
Q: why do you give out paper menus on your flight when the choices are always chicken or pasta? it's a huge waste of paper
A: glossy paper menus, are so classy! like ze french. and it is not just chicken, it's roasted chicken provencale avec rosemary and garden vegetables! each and every one of our customers need to know this!
Q: why can't you buy miles if you need them, or give them away like every other mileage program. i can't even buy a train ticket or flowers with them, i'm totally stuck with these lame-o miles (i'm picturing the rollover minute commercial).
A: we are not everyone else, we are air france! our stewardesses are former fashion models, we do not subscibe to equal rights or silly anti-discimination laws.
so that's it. i either have to take a trip before july or i lose my halfway to a free flight miles. so i looked up skyteam flights to London and got a creepy message that maybe i shouldn't.
Labels: review
posted by lefty at
9:46 PM
0 Comments
Friday, March 20, 2009
i make the perfect latte machiatto
so one of my favorite things about working at WWF Germany is how serious they take their coffee. they don't brew one giant pot in the morning and let it sit around all day - that's uncivilzed. here, every floor has one (and sometimes a second super secret one) ridiculously expensive espresso machine.
what with its "patented autocappucino system" and "silent integrated professional burr grinder" i make a latte machiatto that would put your starbuck's barista to shame. i even started making personalized espresso designs in the foam, simply delectable. you should all be ashamed of your boring drip coffee with hazelnut creamer!
this week i have been mastering my skills on the delonghi primadonna, which retails for 3,000 Euro. 
what with its "patented autocappucino system" and "silent integrated professional burr grinder" i make a latte machiatto that would put your starbuck's barista to shame. i even started making personalized espresso designs in the foam, simply delectable. you should all be ashamed of your boring drip coffee with hazelnut creamer!
posted by lefty at
7:38 AM
0 Comments
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
why fly to asia when you can go to flushing?
last saturday despite a whole subway mix up we took the 7 train to the end of the line: flushing in Queens, yo.
then go find the guy with the crazy big sign, and say "take me your masseuse!" he will give you one of his flyers and yell at you and point and you end up somewhere like spa world and get a cheap hour long massage. 
it was my first time getting one, and it was a rather positive experience. it took me a little time to try to not be tickrish while a series of chinese, or thai or singaporean (i couldn't tell and they couldn't tell me) touched me in places no woman has ever touched me. they also dug their knees into my waist, walked on my legs and stood on my feet (that's when i felt that we bonded) and it was excellent. the women only knew two words: "thank you" and "harder" which complicated things when i was writhing in pain, trying to get her to ease up on my shoulder blade. but in the end, i came out feeling like a newborn. i drank a ton of water and then we went into some underground mall thing and pointed and paid and ate. (i hear the mcdonald's has a big stick that you can use to point at the menu to order).
first, click here, then go to file...print if you want to see what you're in for. once you're on main street you're fighting your way between guys pulling carts full of eels, people selling kung fu dvds, candies, rolexes and street dumplings, oh the street dumplings. first stop was the 4 for a dolla and a quarta pork bun place. YUM. i could have eaten 20. my friend christine tallied her monthly dumpling regimen to about 16-20. if i lived near flushing i would double that.
then go find the guy with the crazy big sign, and say "take me your masseuse!" he will give you one of his flyers and yell at you and point and you end up somewhere like spa world and get a cheap hour long massage. it was my first time getting one, and it was a rather positive experience. it took me a little time to try to not be tickrish while a series of chinese, or thai or singaporean (i couldn't tell and they couldn't tell me) touched me in places no woman has ever touched me. they also dug their knees into my waist, walked on my legs and stood on my feet (that's when i felt that we bonded) and it was excellent. the women only knew two words: "thank you" and "harder" which complicated things when i was writhing in pain, trying to get her to ease up on my shoulder blade. but in the end, i came out feeling like a newborn. i drank a ton of water and then we went into some underground mall thing and pointed and paid and ate. (i hear the mcdonald's has a big stick that you can use to point at the menu to order).i'll take that and point was all you had to do. nothing was more than $4. and 'that' ended up being a delicious chinese chimichanga of some sort with scalions and egg inside. there were homemade noodles, super crazy spicey tongue numbing salads, lamb sandwiches and huge bratwurst like things. it was the greatest afternoon ever, topped with a mcflurry and some foozball. what more could you want?
mmmaybe some cabbage juice?
posted by lefty at
9:35 AM
0 Comments
Thursday, February 26, 2009
i love champagne!
it's true, i love champagne! i just realized i'm so over beer, it's all about the champers. at my uncle's house over christmas we'd down entire magnums before lunch, it was the best. champagne is going to be the new beer, i'm getting special plastic flutes to bring to softball games.
so, best places to get champagne:
1. Urbana happy hour. every day of the friggin' week! $5 champers. and if you happen to stay past the 7pm, after you munched down some $8 pizzas and broke a few glasses get a bottle of Albrecht for like, less than 40 bucks. you get 5 glasses. do the math. rosé is in, people, and was long before J-lo got that huge pink diamond.
2. Asylum mimosas come in pint glasses, no ice (um, unlike some people). nobody said they're good, it's just value.
3. Trader Joe's. they have $6.99 prosecco from like, Missouri or something. shit is tight. you don't even need to mix it with OJ, just drink straight from the bottle. they also have these adorable mini-bottles of real good stuff for $10, you can take 'em, anywhere, like...the movies!
4. the movies! mini bottle fits in the purse, bring some paper cups your non-smartfood cheddar cheese popcorn (only $1.99) and you're golden. what's that pop sound you just heard old lady? i don't know, look the other way and mind your own business. i'm toasting to slumdog. and cheers to you too, dreadlock guy who also snuck in to the see "the reader" after slumdog ended. you should have followed us to see Milf, i mean, milk. whatever. i wish i had thought of bringing some more champers.
so, best places to get champagne:
1. Urbana happy hour. every day of the friggin' week! $5 champers. and if you happen to stay past the 7pm, after you munched down some $8 pizzas and broke a few glasses get a bottle of Albrecht for like, less than 40 bucks. you get 5 glasses. do the math. rosé is in, people, and was long before J-lo got that huge pink diamond.
2. Asylum mimosas come in pint glasses, no ice (um, unlike some people). nobody said they're good, it's just value.
3. Trader Joe's. they have $6.99 prosecco from like, Missouri or something. shit is tight. you don't even need to mix it with OJ, just drink straight from the bottle. they also have these adorable mini-bottles of real good stuff for $10, you can take 'em, anywhere, like...the movies!
4. the movies! mini bottle fits in the purse, bring some paper cups your non-smartfood cheddar cheese popcorn (only $1.99) and you're golden. what's that pop sound you just heard old lady? i don't know, look the other way and mind your own business. i'm toasting to slumdog. and cheers to you too, dreadlock guy who also snuck in to the see "the reader" after slumdog ended. you should have followed us to see Milf, i mean, milk. whatever. i wish i had thought of bringing some more champers.
posted by lefty at
9:34 AM
1 Comments
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
DC jazz? duke ellington can't spin in his grave any faster
i was so embarassed for DC last saturday. seriously, ya really let me down.
so a friend was visiting, who happens to be a grammy winning musician from london and wanted to see some live music. friday night was a disappointment. ok, iritis kicked ass but those opening bands, ummm. needs a bit of work.
so it's saturday, let's go hear some jazz! i had a few places lined up and we were going to crawl them all to find the best.
we started at twins on U street, a solid choice, but on valentine's day it was a mess of couples with interlocking arms and smoochiness. and i don't mean to discriminate, but the musicians looked like they were from a high school in montgomery county. enough said.
so we scooted on over to bohemian caverns, a good backup. i walked up to the bouncer to ask who was playing and was interrupted with a grumbly "60 bucks."
can we go in and just listen for a -
"60 bucks"
what if we don't like the music, can we-
"60 bucks"
what if i leave this guy as collateral can i go in and -
"60 bucks."
that seemed like a bit of a gamble for a "60 bucks" band that plays nothing but "60 bucks" for "60 bucks"
soo...we stoped into Dukem to come up with a game plan. there at least, was some decent tunes. some guy playing a weird sideways guitar and some excellent singers. the martinis were served in plastic glasses but i wasn't about to complain.
and then, eureka, of course! H.R. 57 - it is in fact the center for the preservation of jazz.
so we go down and enter a packed house. this is great! let's have a seat. the band was in between sets but we smiled in anticipation.
then they came on - piano, guitar, drums, a 6 string violin - cool!
and then it started, what would be more than half an hour of what my friend would call "quite literally the worst music i've ever heard. ever. and i've been listening to music for over 40 years."
4 chords. 4 chords, which composed the latest coldplay hit, played over. and over. and over. and over again. i couldn't believe it. is this what passes for jazz these days? 4 chords. ok, that's not counting all the bad notes. 4 chords. it was a sort of grand finale, but it was never ending. 4 chords. the energy increased. 4 chords multiplied by 4 chords. i looked around the room, wondering if maybe my ears just weren't hearing the same thing as everyone else? 4 chords. people were dancing, waving their hands in the air. the song got louder, drum solo, piano solo, whining screaming violin with his 4 chords, is this for real? 35 minutes went by and we just couldn't take it anymore. it didn't stop for another 12. we retreated in horror to the middle part of the room which had these comfy leather couches. i put my head in my hands, this is humiliating.
we chatted, wondered what was becoming of jazz and the world. people started to trickle out, drunkenly swaggering, wasted. i noticed people pointing to a spot to our left, crinkling their noses and saying "looks like pizza." it was puke. PUKE. in a jazz club.
so this is the preservation of jazz, DC? are you fucking serious? i'm ashamed of you. it's going to take a lot to convince me to try that again. Duke Ellington is spinning in his grave at 6,000 rpms.
so a friend was visiting, who happens to be a grammy winning musician from london and wanted to see some live music. friday night was a disappointment. ok, iritis kicked ass but those opening bands, ummm. needs a bit of work.
so it's saturday, let's go hear some jazz! i had a few places lined up and we were going to crawl them all to find the best.
we started at twins on U street, a solid choice, but on valentine's day it was a mess of couples with interlocking arms and smoochiness. and i don't mean to discriminate, but the musicians looked like they were from a high school in montgomery county. enough said.
so we scooted on over to bohemian caverns, a good backup. i walked up to the bouncer to ask who was playing and was interrupted with a grumbly "60 bucks."
can we go in and just listen for a -
"60 bucks"
what if we don't like the music, can we-
"60 bucks"
what if i leave this guy as collateral can i go in and -
"60 bucks."
that seemed like a bit of a gamble for a "60 bucks" band that plays nothing but "60 bucks" for "60 bucks"
soo...we stoped into Dukem to come up with a game plan. there at least, was some decent tunes. some guy playing a weird sideways guitar and some excellent singers. the martinis were served in plastic glasses but i wasn't about to complain.
and then, eureka, of course! H.R. 57 - it is in fact the center for the preservation of jazz.
so we go down and enter a packed house. this is great! let's have a seat. the band was in between sets but we smiled in anticipation.
then they came on - piano, guitar, drums, a 6 string violin - cool!
and then it started, what would be more than half an hour of what my friend would call "quite literally the worst music i've ever heard. ever. and i've been listening to music for over 40 years."
4 chords. 4 chords, which composed the latest coldplay hit, played over. and over. and over. and over again. i couldn't believe it. is this what passes for jazz these days? 4 chords. ok, that's not counting all the bad notes. 4 chords. it was a sort of grand finale, but it was never ending. 4 chords. the energy increased. 4 chords multiplied by 4 chords. i looked around the room, wondering if maybe my ears just weren't hearing the same thing as everyone else? 4 chords. people were dancing, waving their hands in the air. the song got louder, drum solo, piano solo, whining screaming violin with his 4 chords, is this for real? 35 minutes went by and we just couldn't take it anymore. it didn't stop for another 12. we retreated in horror to the middle part of the room which had these comfy leather couches. i put my head in my hands, this is humiliating.
we chatted, wondered what was becoming of jazz and the world. people started to trickle out, drunkenly swaggering, wasted. i noticed people pointing to a spot to our left, crinkling their noses and saying "looks like pizza." it was puke. PUKE. in a jazz club.
so this is the preservation of jazz, DC? are you fucking serious? i'm ashamed of you. it's going to take a lot to convince me to try that again. Duke Ellington is spinning in his grave at 6,000 rpms.
posted by lefty at
9:12 AM
2 Comments
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
wurkin' out! i love the Y!
i finally, finally FINALLY like going to the gym! i have hated it, dreaded, done nothing but come up with excuses not to do it, but since i joined the YMCA (and they started withdrawing moneys from my account) i sortof feel obligated to go....but i kinda like it! and one important thing, unlike most other gyms in the area...the guys at the Y are mostly straight! and for you guys: the chicks are totally hot!
having someone to go with makes a huge difference. and losing at racquetball, but giving them a perfectly circular bruisein retaliation is unbelievably rewarding. and the sauna! we're trying to see how many pounds we can shed just by sweating it out (the scale is conveniently right outside the sauna door). there's also the really inappropriate sauna talk that reminds us what the C in YMCA stands for...and while we were stretching the other night we heard sick music coming out of the spin room. there's a dude who teaches who's a world famous DJ or something. puts the chief ike's dance floor to shame!
we also like to wail on our butts, guts and guns. you should see me bench the bar! we're coming up with a workout plan. there's going to be the tuesday night buttblaster and aurelgrooves awesome abs by april. 4 As of asspounding that will make you so jealous! it's ON.
having someone to go with makes a huge difference. and losing at racquetball, but giving them a perfectly circular bruisein retaliation is unbelievably rewarding. and the sauna! we're trying to see how many pounds we can shed just by sweating it out (the scale is conveniently right outside the sauna door). there's also the really inappropriate sauna talk that reminds us what the C in YMCA stands for...and while we were stretching the other night we heard sick music coming out of the spin room. there's a dude who teaches who's a world famous DJ or something. puts the chief ike's dance floor to shame!
we also like to wail on our butts, guts and guns. you should see me bench the bar! we're coming up with a workout plan. there's going to be the tuesday night buttblaster and aurelgrooves awesome abs by april. 4 As of asspounding that will make you so jealous! it's ON.
posted by lefty at
9:09 AM
0 Comments
Monday, February 2, 2009
new heights gin joint!
maybe i shouldn't publicize because i kinda want to keep it a secret, but the new heights gin joint is MY new joint. all mine.
i went to the new heights gin joint last weekend for several reasons.
1, because a year ago when waiting for a table upstairs i had a most tasty gin and tonic i had never heard of and thought, well, i should definitely come back here.
2, since my pal Logan Cox started working the kitchen, but really, it's
3, i met a guy in a bar when i was really drunk and he asked me out for drinks and i needed a small place where i would be sure to recognize him among other patrons. oh, and it had to be quiet because for some reason i imagined that he might have a stutter or a lisp, and finally, why not impress someone with a tiny hidden spot in woodley park on a friday?
so, the gin joint.
he was already there when i arrived and thank goodness spotted me when i came in, otherwise, i would have likely sat two chairs down and ordered on my own. he had already gotten the jist of the menu and explained to someone who never even imagined there were more kinds of gin than the ones that come in the plastic bottle and bombay sapphire (which i only started drinking in college in honor of my indian friends). i was intrigued and eager to sample, almost overwhelmed, but they are sorted in a specific order on the menu so you can figure out what's going on (do they ever do that with wines? because i always just sort by price...second from the cheapest!). i started with a rather safe choice, right in the middle, a hendrick's that i knew was guaranteed tasty, but the next round (or two?) were complicated, delicate mixes of something truly unique in DC.
then came the food...the charcuterie plate had a bunch of items to offer...some chicken liver, which i just jumped on (sorry buddy, you wouldn't like it anyway), some real tasty jerky, but i really, i was all about the mackerel dish that followed. i would never order mackerel (it's always the last rubbery waxy piece of fish on the sushi combo platter) much less even order fish (my friend from NOAA would kill me...there are no more fish, people!!) however, as i know the list by heart... mackerel is totally in the green column! there was a crisp skin, a bright refreshing flavor, and the mustardy fingerling potatoes with capers. yum.
i just might have fallen in love with mackerel! my date, however is a whole different story. but, as they say, there are always more fish in the sea, and i will most definitely be bringing them into the new heights gin joint!
i went to the new heights gin joint last weekend for several reasons.
1, because a year ago when waiting for a table upstairs i had a most tasty gin and tonic i had never heard of and thought, well, i should definitely come back here.
2, since my pal Logan Cox started working the kitchen, but really, it's
3, i met a guy in a bar when i was really drunk and he asked me out for drinks and i needed a small place where i would be sure to recognize him among other patrons. oh, and it had to be quiet because for some reason i imagined that he might have a stutter or a lisp, and finally, why not impress someone with a tiny hidden spot in woodley park on a friday?
so, the gin joint.
he was already there when i arrived and thank goodness spotted me when i came in, otherwise, i would have likely sat two chairs down and ordered on my own. he had already gotten the jist of the menu and explained to someone who never even imagined there were more kinds of gin than the ones that come in the plastic bottle and bombay sapphire (which i only started drinking in college in honor of my indian friends). i was intrigued and eager to sample, almost overwhelmed, but they are sorted in a specific order on the menu so you can figure out what's going on (do they ever do that with wines? because i always just sort by price...second from the cheapest!). i started with a rather safe choice, right in the middle, a hendrick's that i knew was guaranteed tasty, but the next round (or two?) were complicated, delicate mixes of something truly unique in DC.
then came the food...the charcuterie plate had a bunch of items to offer...some chicken liver, which i just jumped on (sorry buddy, you wouldn't like it anyway), some real tasty jerky, but i really, i was all about the mackerel dish that followed. i would never order mackerel (it's always the last rubbery waxy piece of fish on the sushi combo platter) much less even order fish (my friend from NOAA would kill me...there are no more fish, people!!) however, as i know the list by heart... mackerel is totally in the green column! there was a crisp skin, a bright refreshing flavor, and the mustardy fingerling potatoes with capers. yum.
i just might have fallen in love with mackerel! my date, however is a whole different story. but, as they say, there are always more fish in the sea, and i will most definitely be bringing them into the new heights gin joint!
posted by lefty at
9:09 AM
0 Comments
Monday, January 26, 2009
schlong salad: part TOO
so, despite, - no wait, actually, in spite of the phallic nature of my previous meal at vinoteca, i actually love the place. the wine is way cheaper than veritas, who just upped their bottles into the 'beyond my means, especially in this economy' range (which means if ever, i can only go on a monday). vinoteca also has nice menu that's more than cheese and meats (and those new crazy pricey but tasty chocolates). it also just happens that the citypaper is running a special (check this page for $50 gift certificates for only $25!) so, there's little reason NOT to go there..
i was too full for dessert, but i am curious to find out how many other vinoteca dishes are inspired by the cookie puss?
i'll have to go back and find out. in the meantime, vinoteca, vinoteca vinoteca!
i have already attempted several times to use my gift certificate, but even with my winey-ist of friends could never eat or drink enough to meet the $100 minimum for the coupon (the place is thrifty i tell you! especially during happy hour) so when it was my friend's birthday over inauguration weekend, we went back for a ladies dinner.
as giggles never managed to be subdued, i had to ask our waitress if the beet salad was for real. maybe one of the chefs was messing with me? (as we watched them stroll through the dining room, we all wished they were!) i showed her the picture and she turned, pardon the pun, beet red. a little while later, the general manager came by and said, "it's you? the blogger who wrote about us?" and it was my turn to be blushing. oh my, they read this garbage i write? yes, they get an email anytime anyone writes "vinoteca." "we have your write-up posted in the kitchen!"
so they offered me a complimentary salad. i said yes, but only if it's REALLY huge. i learned later that my dish went through several iterations as the first versions were deemed too risque even for me. so i ended up something just as tasty, and a little more abstract i guess.
i was too full for dessert, but i am curious to find out how many other vinoteca dishes are inspired by the cookie puss? i'll have to go back and find out. in the meantime, vinoteca, vinoteca vinoteca!
posted by lefty at
8:38 AM
0 Comments
Friday, December 19, 2008
osteria: 10 rue sévigné
uh, yum. you'd never know what this place was called since it had no sign. handwritten menu, totally italian staff (all 4 of them) looked straight out of a movie. our waiter was goofy like roberto benigni, and the kitchen staff, all hotties from cinema paradiso (though our inappropriate dinner guest said a little too loud "he looks way to dark to be italian, i bet you he's lebanese!").
the night before claudia cardinale was there. i know because my mom and stepfather went two nights in a row it was so yummy. and the wierd thing, most of the other diners were repeats too! the chef seems to have a bunch of regulars, comes out frequently to say hi, recommend the risotto that he just fired up, so it's a 45 min wait.
i often went to the bathroom to get a little peak at the tiny kitchen, and other stuff, hehe. best part was that it was cheap! definitely go back, make reservations, or you'll be one of 20 that were turned away...
the night before claudia cardinale was there. i know because my mom and stepfather went two nights in a row it was so yummy. and the wierd thing, most of the other diners were repeats too! the chef seems to have a bunch of regulars, comes out frequently to say hi, recommend the risotto that he just fired up, so it's a 45 min wait.
i often went to the bathroom to get a little peak at the tiny kitchen, and other stuff, hehe. best part was that it was cheap! definitely go back, make reservations, or you'll be one of 20 that were turned away...
posted by lefty at
6:51 AM
0 Comments
Monday, April 14, 2008
buying a bike in DC? not for short people!
ok, so now i'm going to tell you about the tremendously annoying, demeaning experience of buying a bike in DC for people under 5'3" - which, i can safely say is about most of the non-amazonly tall women in this town, and some guys too??
so i want a new bike. a nice one. i've looked on craigslist, there's some stuff out there, but you have to sift through so much crap and you have to interact with someone who could potentially be weird, pay with cash for a bike that might have some flaws etc...wouldn't it be so much nicer to just go to one place, try some bikes out, and then buy one? shouldn't that place be a bike store?
well no. because there's a lot to consider. first, i'm short. yeah, 5'2" so a 52cm frame is just too damn big, what do you have in my size? nothing? why? i've gone to pretty much every store in DC. everywhere it's the same story. every bike they stock is either huge or huger, and if you want it in a small size, well then you have to special order it, and put down a deposit. you don't rrrrreally have to buy the bike perse, but you have to buy a bike from that store or you lose your deposit. essentially, you have to pick one bike without trying it and hope for the best. or you could start ordering bike after bike after bike and make your coolness meter go way down and eventually you'll end up putting down more deposits than a bike is worth.
and yeah, the coolness meter, there's the unwritten coolness code when you enter a bike shop these days, like, oh, you don't ride a custom fixie with no brakes and have a hip courier bag and hang out a asylum? rolling of eyes...well guess what, i do hang out at asylum and i just want a fucking bike to take me to work and back, maybe on some weekend rides, is that too much to ask?
choosing a bike is pretty intimate. i mean, i'm gonna be sitting on thing, it's gonna be...you know...touching my private areas...would you buy a car without driving it? rent a house without entering it? no.
what would happen if clothing stores only carried size XXS, or supermarkets were all "we're just going to sell meat!" or a bar was all "too fucking bad, we don't serve ugly-ass people like you!" (ok, so they sortof do that as asylum but still...) wouldn't people be outraged? i am!
so what does this come down to? TOTAL BULLSHIT DISCRIMINATION. every store i've been to has had at least one or two other women standing around in the same predicament "i like this bike...do you have it in my size?" nope, sorry!
so i've been being a little more vocal these days and demanding that i should not have to put down cash to test out a bike because tall people don't have to. and no, i'm not interested in the girlie beach cruiser with tassles, thanks for asking. bike stores should carry a range of sizes, not just big, not just small, end of story. aren't there other small people looking for bikes? it's not like i'm not a midget or anything, i'm just a lady, lookin' for a bike!!
anyway, so here are my reviews on local bike stores if yer interested:
citybikes - sometimes known as shittybikes. most of the time you go in there and feel like a total idiot because you don't know what a blah blah is, or, you're wasting their time by asking them to fix something you could totally do yourself if you had bike tools, and cable cutters and like a million other things that you don't know, or care to know about. oh, and you're not wearing hip jeans rolled up to your knees. but then again, you just might happen to land on someone super nice and friendly and knowledgeable who actually helps you pick out a good bike for you, and keeps the store open late for you, cuz they know you really want a bike and they really want you to buy one. i'm probably going to end up buying from them because they said they finally ordered a small frame for me (with no deposit, after extensive going into the store and complaining) and i live two blocks away.
the bike rack - this place has the nicest of all salespeople ever. they can talk on your level, help you find exactly what you want, very friendly and very helpful. alas, they are just starting out and have a really small stock, so...not much to choose from. wish i could buy from those guys! however, lots of other cool stuff.
capitol hill bikes - the biggest selection of independent bike stores in DC, with lots of small women's frames and a nice owner who answered my emails about some bikes, but when i went into the store, the sales guy made me feel like i was bothering him by wanting to purchase a bicycle. well sorrreeeee!
REI - meh. who wants to buy their bike from rei? i guess you get dividends. they only carry a few brands.
Hudson Trail Outfitters - another chain...haven't been yet, sorry.
so i want a new bike. a nice one. i've looked on craigslist, there's some stuff out there, but you have to sift through so much crap and you have to interact with someone who could potentially be weird, pay with cash for a bike that might have some flaws etc...wouldn't it be so much nicer to just go to one place, try some bikes out, and then buy one? shouldn't that place be a bike store?
well no. because there's a lot to consider. first, i'm short. yeah, 5'2" so a 52cm frame is just too damn big, what do you have in my size? nothing? why? i've gone to pretty much every store in DC. everywhere it's the same story. every bike they stock is either huge or huger, and if you want it in a small size, well then you have to special order it, and put down a deposit. you don't rrrrreally have to buy the bike perse, but you have to buy a bike from that store or you lose your deposit. essentially, you have to pick one bike without trying it and hope for the best. or you could start ordering bike after bike after bike and make your coolness meter go way down and eventually you'll end up putting down more deposits than a bike is worth.
and yeah, the coolness meter, there's the unwritten coolness code when you enter a bike shop these days, like, oh, you don't ride a custom fixie with no brakes and have a hip courier bag and hang out a asylum? rolling of eyes...well guess what, i do hang out at asylum and i just want a fucking bike to take me to work and back, maybe on some weekend rides, is that too much to ask?
choosing a bike is pretty intimate. i mean, i'm gonna be sitting on thing, it's gonna be...you know...touching my private areas...would you buy a car without driving it? rent a house without entering it? no.
what would happen if clothing stores only carried size XXS, or supermarkets were all "we're just going to sell meat!" or a bar was all "too fucking bad, we don't serve ugly-ass people like you!" (ok, so they sortof do that as asylum but still...) wouldn't people be outraged? i am!
so what does this come down to? TOTAL BULLSHIT DISCRIMINATION. every store i've been to has had at least one or two other women standing around in the same predicament "i like this bike...do you have it in my size?" nope, sorry!
so i've been being a little more vocal these days and demanding that i should not have to put down cash to test out a bike because tall people don't have to. and no, i'm not interested in the girlie beach cruiser with tassles, thanks for asking. bike stores should carry a range of sizes, not just big, not just small, end of story. aren't there other small people looking for bikes? it's not like i'm not a midget or anything, i'm just a lady, lookin' for a bike!!
anyway, so here are my reviews on local bike stores if yer interested:
citybikes - sometimes known as shittybikes. most of the time you go in there and feel like a total idiot because you don't know what a blah blah is, or, you're wasting their time by asking them to fix something you could totally do yourself if you had bike tools, and cable cutters and like a million other things that you don't know, or care to know about. oh, and you're not wearing hip jeans rolled up to your knees. but then again, you just might happen to land on someone super nice and friendly and knowledgeable who actually helps you pick out a good bike for you, and keeps the store open late for you, cuz they know you really want a bike and they really want you to buy one. i'm probably going to end up buying from them because they said they finally ordered a small frame for me (with no deposit, after extensive going into the store and complaining) and i live two blocks away.
the bike rack - this place has the nicest of all salespeople ever. they can talk on your level, help you find exactly what you want, very friendly and very helpful. alas, they are just starting out and have a really small stock, so...not much to choose from. wish i could buy from those guys! however, lots of other cool stuff.
capitol hill bikes - the biggest selection of independent bike stores in DC, with lots of small women's frames and a nice owner who answered my emails about some bikes, but when i went into the store, the sales guy made me feel like i was bothering him by wanting to purchase a bicycle. well sorrreeeee!
REI - meh. who wants to buy their bike from rei? i guess you get dividends. they only carry a few brands.
Hudson Trail Outfitters - another chain...haven't been yet, sorry.
Labels: review
posted by lefty at
12:45 PM
2 Comments
Friday, December 7, 2007
36-15 code BABY!
tonight is ladies' night - a bunch of gals from the office going out for pizza. i know where we WON'T be going...
christian had his first day at work at the UN on monday. he came back and found me and gilles at our usual rendez vous spot near the pool. he wasn't as happy and smiley as usual. he collapses into his chair "this place is impossible." he had a 2 hour UN security briefing where they tell you all the bad stuff that happens to ex-pats here - the bricks through your car window, armed robbery, police impersonation and passport theft, basically all the stuff you need to know about to never want to leave your house. there's a curfew, i found out, for whiteys. oops. gilles meanwhile turns real pale. so glad to be leaving this place, he says. he hasn't been getting much sleep as the waitresses are still finding reasons to knock on his door late at night...christian ups his spirit by telling us about a nepalese guy he'll be working with. the guy had never left katmandu until he had been assigned to DRC. "just imagine a nepalese guy, here in kinshasa! imagine what a punch in the face it was for him to land here!"
it had sortof taken the wind out of our sails for going out on gilles' last night but i said come on guys, people DO go out here. we'll get a nice reliable taxi from the hotel, it'll be fun! i saw this place the other day downtown with a patio and lots of ex-pats and locals, music, police presence, we'll be fine. so we go the receptionist to call a taxi - the hotel cell phone is out of minutes (maybe she should stop chatting with her boyfriend all the time?), so we use my phone. as soon as i hang up this beat-up carolla wagon comes barreling down the driveway. with a sunroof, yea! we negotiate an almost non-whitey price with the driver and as soon as we get in he cranks up the music, starts chatting and drives about a million miles an hour, soaring through potholes. gilles head is being pounded into the roof. we pass a car with no windows, no doors, no bumpers and completely rusted out. unbelievably, the blinker still works - one little lonely lightbulb that lights sporadically to let us know of its intentions.
the taxi driver's name is "bah-bee" (baby?). his car REEKS of gasoline. i pray that christian, sitting up front does not light up another cigarette. gilles is securing his money belt for the third time. we get let out in front of the "36-15" the place i had recommended. we make jokes about the old mini-tel, france's first internet. tapez le 36-15 code BABY! baby is real cool, he lets us pay later. a hummer drives up to the patio, all pimping out and checking out the scene. then some hip guys dressed like wannabe LA rappers roll up in a convertible peugot, music blaring. they pretend not to notice as the hard top goes down and folds into the trunk. what's up with this place?
we walk up to a table, gilles is already feeling better. this place is real nice. pizza looks good. you see? nothing to worry about. look at everyone, all the locals and foreigners, getting along. and then we scan the place and something is odd...there's only old white guys, and all the locals are these sexed up skinny congolese ladies with fake flowing wigs. the women are sitting on the men's laps and massaging their necks, and there's a group of wealthy lebanese sheik-like guys, and one has three ladies in his lap - hey wait a minute! prostitutes?!
christian finds this hilarious, gilles is back to being terrified. don't worry gilles, christian says, they won't come bother us, not with this cougar over here, pointing to me, making the requisite rrrreow (only instead of cougar, it's 'panther' in french). now that i'm 30 i guess that makes me a cougar, nice. but he's right. our waitress is friendly, the brick oven pizza is tasty (it has to be good, because if any lebanese mafioso guys got sick this place would be erased) and we have our own little conversation, and never get drawn into what is happening around us. except when the 3 guys from doctors without borders staying at our hotel leave with a little harem.
we treat ourselves to grand marnier for a digestif. i have been forbidden to drink vitell-o anymore - it's this super sweet fruit punch soda that likely has crack cocaine in it, makes me very hyper. i'm told crazy weird stuff comes babbling out of my mouth, christian and gilles like me better on water, beer or hard alcohol if possible. christian and i start placing bets on when gilles camerounian airlines flight will actually leave for libreville. i'll pay for lunch tomorrow if his flight is put off until evening. christian says it could be days. gilles is silent, angry because all day people have been predicting the worst and all he wants is to be back home with his family. so we make him promise to buy dinner if we find him back at the hotel the next night. ask anyone here, they have a horror story about CamAir. christian says he once had a four DAY delay in yaounde. basically, they fly when they feel like it, africa-style. we laugh at how the last time gilles called to confirm his flight was 2 days ago. 2 days? you need to call now (i'm sure there's a 24 hour receptionist!) i ask our waitress, ever flown camair? "i once got stuck in Kigali for christmas AND new years because of those imbeciles! I am relieved to hear they finally went bankrupt last year." poor gilles. he didn't join us for breakfast or dinner the next day, but i bet that's because the chauffeur left him off at the airport instead of waiting until the plane took off. and moses was off-duty. well, good thing there are dudes who sell peanuts in the parking lot.
christian had his first day at work at the UN on monday. he came back and found me and gilles at our usual rendez vous spot near the pool. he wasn't as happy and smiley as usual. he collapses into his chair "this place is impossible." he had a 2 hour UN security briefing where they tell you all the bad stuff that happens to ex-pats here - the bricks through your car window, armed robbery, police impersonation and passport theft, basically all the stuff you need to know about to never want to leave your house. there's a curfew, i found out, for whiteys. oops. gilles meanwhile turns real pale. so glad to be leaving this place, he says. he hasn't been getting much sleep as the waitresses are still finding reasons to knock on his door late at night...christian ups his spirit by telling us about a nepalese guy he'll be working with. the guy had never left katmandu until he had been assigned to DRC. "just imagine a nepalese guy, here in kinshasa! imagine what a punch in the face it was for him to land here!"
it had sortof taken the wind out of our sails for going out on gilles' last night but i said come on guys, people DO go out here. we'll get a nice reliable taxi from the hotel, it'll be fun! i saw this place the other day downtown with a patio and lots of ex-pats and locals, music, police presence, we'll be fine. so we go the receptionist to call a taxi - the hotel cell phone is out of minutes (maybe she should stop chatting with her boyfriend all the time?), so we use my phone. as soon as i hang up this beat-up carolla wagon comes barreling down the driveway. with a sunroof, yea! we negotiate an almost non-whitey price with the driver and as soon as we get in he cranks up the music, starts chatting and drives about a million miles an hour, soaring through potholes. gilles head is being pounded into the roof. we pass a car with no windows, no doors, no bumpers and completely rusted out. unbelievably, the blinker still works - one little lonely lightbulb that lights sporadically to let us know of its intentions.
the taxi driver's name is "bah-bee" (baby?). his car REEKS of gasoline. i pray that christian, sitting up front does not light up another cigarette. gilles is securing his money belt for the third time. we get let out in front of the "36-15" the place i had recommended. we make jokes about the old mini-tel, france's first internet. tapez le 36-15 code BABY! baby is real cool, he lets us pay later. a hummer drives up to the patio, all pimping out and checking out the scene. then some hip guys dressed like wannabe LA rappers roll up in a convertible peugot, music blaring. they pretend not to notice as the hard top goes down and folds into the trunk. what's up with this place?
we walk up to a table, gilles is already feeling better. this place is real nice. pizza looks good. you see? nothing to worry about. look at everyone, all the locals and foreigners, getting along. and then we scan the place and something is odd...there's only old white guys, and all the locals are these sexed up skinny congolese ladies with fake flowing wigs. the women are sitting on the men's laps and massaging their necks, and there's a group of wealthy lebanese sheik-like guys, and one has three ladies in his lap - hey wait a minute! prostitutes?!
christian finds this hilarious, gilles is back to being terrified. don't worry gilles, christian says, they won't come bother us, not with this cougar over here, pointing to me, making the requisite rrrreow (only instead of cougar, it's 'panther' in french). now that i'm 30 i guess that makes me a cougar, nice. but he's right. our waitress is friendly, the brick oven pizza is tasty (it has to be good, because if any lebanese mafioso guys got sick this place would be erased) and we have our own little conversation, and never get drawn into what is happening around us. except when the 3 guys from doctors without borders staying at our hotel leave with a little harem.
we treat ourselves to grand marnier for a digestif. i have been forbidden to drink vitell-o anymore - it's this super sweet fruit punch soda that likely has crack cocaine in it, makes me very hyper. i'm told crazy weird stuff comes babbling out of my mouth, christian and gilles like me better on water, beer or hard alcohol if possible. christian and i start placing bets on when gilles camerounian airlines flight will actually leave for libreville. i'll pay for lunch tomorrow if his flight is put off until evening. christian says it could be days. gilles is silent, angry because all day people have been predicting the worst and all he wants is to be back home with his family. so we make him promise to buy dinner if we find him back at the hotel the next night. ask anyone here, they have a horror story about CamAir. christian says he once had a four DAY delay in yaounde. basically, they fly when they feel like it, africa-style. we laugh at how the last time gilles called to confirm his flight was 2 days ago. 2 days? you need to call now (i'm sure there's a 24 hour receptionist!) i ask our waitress, ever flown camair? "i once got stuck in Kigali for christmas AND new years because of those imbeciles! I am relieved to hear they finally went bankrupt last year." poor gilles. he didn't join us for breakfast or dinner the next day, but i bet that's because the chauffeur left him off at the airport instead of waiting until the plane took off. and moses was off-duty. well, good thing there are dudes who sell peanuts in the parking lot.
posted by lefty at
9:29 AM
0 Comments
Thursday, September 21, 2006
syphoning the symphony
so the chorister seats at the KenCen rock. last night, i saw slatkin's beady eyes, wispy hair (why does every conductor always have lots of hair to shake around?) and delicate commands, and the facial expressions of the harpist, bass players...everyone. fortunately, we were too late to the second half and were seated in wonderful orchestra seats for the brahams so we got a different visual, aural perspective. being behind the orchestra tho, i also got to see everyone in the audience and noticed not only the most hideous outfits ever seen in public, but, a public that was significantly older than the players themselves.
why is it that mostly our elders appreciate classical music? and it's not the price of the tickets, mind you...i paid less than you would at 9:30, and the kennedy center is a mere bike ride away. the acoustics are great, you can see everything, you don't have to stand, but ok, drinks are a little pricey...but hey, your beer doesn't come in a plastic cup.
back in the day, going to the symphony was like going to a kiss concert. it was primo, hip entertainment, the place to be. girls were sneaking out of their houses after curfew and mobbing the star after the show. you had the big greats and the wannabes, and then, you had crazy characters like Paganini. think: first ever badass, in a mick jagger sorta way.
why is it that mostly our elders appreciate classical music? and it's not the price of the tickets, mind you...i paid less than you would at 9:30, and the kennedy center is a mere bike ride away. the acoustics are great, you can see everything, you don't have to stand, but ok, drinks are a little pricey...but hey, your beer doesn't come in a plastic cup.
back in the day, going to the symphony was like going to a kiss concert. it was primo, hip entertainment, the place to be. girls were sneaking out of their houses after curfew and mobbing the star after the show. you had the big greats and the wannabes, and then, you had crazy characters like Paganini. think: first ever badass, in a mick jagger sorta way.
badasss!
the first ever real rockstar. i mean, this guy would make ladies faint with the sound of his violin. he was weird, eccentric, mysterious, originated the whole goth thing. so why isn't classical music cool anymore? is it because contemporary stuff, well...sucks? we need a new Mozart, man.
Labels: review
posted by lefty at
6:05 PM
0 Comments
Thursday, August 24, 2006
the sound of one hand clapping...
ok, today i am sitting in my [piece of shit] cubicle [that i finally asked to be moved out of] and from deep inside me i had a thought. i should listen to paris hilton's new CD online. brain, stop it. stop clicking, put down the mouse. what do you think you are doing?
i've actually listened to the whole thing. some songs twice. um, there's a moral to this story somewhere...it likely has to do with coming to work still quite possibly drunk slightly before noon(asylum's 15th anniversary party. naughty nurses and stripper poles. kick yourself for missing it).
is this a sub-conscious self-flagellation? someone please tell me this is me, telling myself i shouldn't close bars on wednesday nights, drink sparks until sunrise and play frisbee in the street, have the police say "stop throwing that frisbee ma'am" over their megaphone [too lazy to get out of their car?], run to another street, lose the frisbee in the gutter and then open a manhole cover, order my boyfriend to reach in and grab it with his feet. he did.
so my favorite line so far is "if you think you're sexy clap your hands."
Labels: review
posted by lefty at
5:55 PM
0 Comments
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
have you heard this yet?
my all time favorite group, zero 7 has released another stunning album:
it features the usual suspects, plus jose gonzales, which surprised and enthralled me in the first track. a few months ago, i just happened to come across him on myspace, and the song of his that i adore is 'crosses,' which is remixed and featured at the end.
it features the usual suspects, plus jose gonzales, which surprised and enthralled me in the first track. a few months ago, i just happened to come across him on myspace, and the song of his that i adore is 'crosses,' which is remixed and featured at the end. i listened to it all last week and couldn't stand to be interrupted so when my 45 year old skeevy intern (yes, someone unloaded the creep onto me, and it's obvious why) came in to bother me like he does every five minutes i perfected the universal sign for "i can't hear you!" which goes like this:
1) shake your head in a "no"
2) point to your blaring headphones
3) shrug and turn around
so this album is a wee bit different than the others, a really new sound which reminds me a bit of stereolab. each song is a little weird and unique, but blend wonderfully together for a really great album you should hear all the way thru. i left the CD in the stereo for my roommmate (we put little 3 CD mixes in for eachother, picking each one to play in order so when you press power, you always have a nice surprise in store - i picked zero 7 to go with madonna's 'music' adn rjd2 to finish off) but it turns out her favorite song is mine too: "pageant of the bizarre" which has a few different parts (the take a chance on me segment is excellent), we also just love the first lyrics, which perfectly describe both our lives:
It's never gonna be
Normal, you and me
What you're signing on for
Is a storm at sea
so true.
Labels: review
posted by lefty at
5:37 PM
0 Comments