This is the archived file of a blog that I started as a solo project on Blogger in October of 2005. Within weeks I invited my friend Book Stud to join me as a co-blogger. Not only did it become a much funnier blog (and one that boasted a pretty awesome soundtrack), it evolved into something much more interesting as well. Even though we are no longer writing on this blog, I felt the writing was worth preserving. There are a lot of great memories in here. I decided to import the posts from both the Blogger and the Typepad versions of the blog into this new WordPress blog here. All of the comments and posts have been preserved. Thanks for coming by and reading all of our goofy stories the past couple of years. I hope we entertained and amused you. It was a good ride.

I started a new blog here on Blogger (cos, ya know, it’s free and all). Stop by to say hi when you can. It’s here.

See ya later, kids.

xoxox,

La Gringa

Last night, to celebrate the impending end of a good friend’s bachelor status, I went with him and six other pals to Riodizio Churrascaria in Tribeca, one of those Brazilian-style places where waiters bring skewers loaded with meat to your table and keep carving off hunks until you cry uncle. Can’t complain about the restaurant, and certainly not about the portions; I was just surprised by what a scene the place was. Sure, there were a few tables with barrel-chested types who looked like they lived there, but clientele for the most part trended to the young and fabulous. The crowd I was with, by contrast, was working the jeans-and-polo-shirt ensemble, sans rub-on tan.

The height of weirdness came toward the end, when a crew of a dozen or so models showed up and went to their table. We all knew they were professional models because every one of them was 1) done the hell up, 2) very very tall, and 3) EXTREMELY thin. Lame’-clad pencils. Despite the many piggish comments that had gone around at my table earlier in the evening (this is the group that, for brief moments of my life, I get to be a guy with, before going home and putting on showtunes), everyone was weirded out by the latest arrivals, and one guy brought up the Seinfeld episode where George is dating a slender woman who he is convinced is bulemic, and starts to resent paying for meals that he is sure she is throwing up. And indeed, the reference was fitting; the last place one could imagine this catwalk crew coming to eat was a place that served all-you-can-eat bacon chunks wrapped in bacon, smothered in baco-bits and served in a sauce of liquid bacon. It wasn’t hard to picture them lining up to flip their rib-eye, filet mignon, short round et al. into the toilet before the check arrived.

Looking back, I’m almost positive this was some kind of stunt. I should have looked for the hidden camera.

Toner Low starts a fabulous new job in about two weeks, and it’s in a neighborhood where there are far better places to eat lunch. Because, really, these are the only things that count in the world of publishing: the neighborhood eateries and whether you get summer hours or not.

Band Camp wishes to bestow a hearty congratulations to Toner Low on this auspicious occasion. Rock on, dude! (And whip out that corporate card! La Gringa is in the mood for sushi.)

Okay, some of you out there who know La Gringa also know of La Gringa’s near irrational fear and loathing of cooking/media icon Rachael Ray. Well, somehow, La Gringa missed this brilliant bit of parody, originally published last year on Blogcritics. (Quoi? You do not READ Blogcritics? Pshaw! You must remedy that immediately.)

Ladies and gentleman and those of you who are currently in-between, Band Camp presents you with Rachael Ray & The End of Days. Enjoy!

Has any rap tune had such a long and storied existence as "Baby Got Back" by Sir Mixalot? Now a decade and a half old, it has been reinterpreted as a gentle folky song (by Jonathan Coulton), as a Las Vegas-style crooner number (by Richard Cheese), and as a Gilbert & Sullivan musical ditty. Reading a Latin translation reveals its similarities to the epigrams of Martial. And it remains the only tune contain the brilliant triple rhyme of "Honda," "Fonda," and "anaconda."

Okay, we have replaced the broken toilet seat with a brand spankin’ new black wooden one. It was $9.99 at the ninety-nine cent store. (Hey, it was either black or marbelized pink. There was really no contest.) So, now the thing is: the toilet seat is all wiggly. We’re pretty sure that it isn’t supposed to be all wiggly. Argh.

In other news, La Gringa has just noticed that Stinkyboy has horked up a mess of green grassy puke on the freshly-laundered futon cover. Le sigh. Guess La Gringa is going back to the laundromat.

I have been sorely lacking on the Song of the Day front the last week – my abject apologies. It’s been a bit mad around these parts, kittens.

But ChinchillazRule pointed me at the this really fantastic video of Hugh Grant doing his 80’s schtick of "Pop Goes My Heart" for the short-lived "Music and Lyrics"; earworm alert, and enjoy.

More regular SotD’s to return soon, Scout’s honor.

Votes?

Jackson Goes Studio Shopping for Lovely Bones
Director Peter Jackson has gone out to potential studio partners with his co-written screenplay for an adaptation of Alice Sebold’s THE LOVELY BONES. He acquired rights from Film Four in 2004, and has said that the film would be his next project.

It’s pretty much a one-note joke, but this Mad TV sketch is hilarious. [Thanks to SilverShive for the link.]

So… if all goes well… and Crazy Bastard Landlord hasn’t put out an APB with my name on it to all the landlords in Astoria… I will be signing a lease this afternoon.

So, let’s review.

The  Big Good News (public forum requires crypticism.)

The Second Big Good News (ditto).

New apartment, rent-stabilized, which no one can kick me out of ha ha ha.

Mona’s tumor is coming up through her skin, but she’s not in any pain and is eating cheerfully.

This being May 1st, I tried on a wifebeater. Yeah. Project Look Good In A Wifebeater By May, not to put too fine or egotistical a point on it, is an unqualified success.

So…

I don’t know that the world’s major religions, my own included, would follow my logic on this…

…but do you think Horace feels guilty?

The Year O’ Crazy Shit is breathing its last brimstoney, tubercular breath. ALLELUIA.

This may be the funniest thing I’ve seen all year. (Courtesy of Ellen DeDegeneres and Gladys Hardy. And you can buy yours here!)

Finger Eleven originally called themselves the Rainbow Butt Monkeys – it took them exactly one album to realize that this was perhaps not the best move in terms of getting themselves taken seriously, and renamed themselves in a hurry. They hail from scenic Burlington, Ontario, and their music has appeared in video games a-plenty, which I imagine will earn sneers from purists but which I think is pretty kewl.

This song comes to us courtesy of Chip, who is unwinding from her hectic law school schedule by hanging out in karaoke bars singing songs like this.

More songs on MySpace and the fantastically eerie/romantic video here.

Dust bunnies of the world, watch out! But first, La Gringa is going to arm herself with a gigantic iced coffee. And after that, she will need to climb up on the rickety wooden ladder to replace nearly every light bulb in the apartment, light bulbs that are well over ten feet off the ground. (La Gringa may have failed to mention that she is somewhat terrified of heights. Thus the procrastination over replacing said light bulbs in the first place. Oy. We pray that the cats won’t eat our rotund self should we – regretfully – fall to our death later this afternoon.)

PS: Can anyone tell me why the bells of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church on the corner are playing "Oh Come All Ye Faithful", a Christmas song?  I know the two Christian calendars are out of sync a tad bit, but surely…not by eight whole months?

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UPDATE: Light bulbs replaced successfully! And, wow, is this place ever filthy. Hmmm…