Month: January 2011

Is there anything cuter than a dachshund puppy?

Yes, there is – a dachshund puppy –  in the snow – in slow motion! You’re welcome.

Yeah, I totally don’t get this one.

Saw Hedda Lettuce perform on Saturday night – she was hilarious as always. Was advising a friend via text that I loved the show and that “she’s a riot” – but SwiftKey’s predictive text had a different idea. Not sure, but I think that’s about as opposite from “drag queen” as one can get…

Just wow.

I do my best to remember that, despite the fact that some of my days can be frustrating or unhappy, I actually have a pretty amazing life compared with most of the other humans who live on this planet. But I still take so much for granted…

Then I see something like this, which reminds me to not only never take my wonderful life for granted – but to do what I can, large or small, to express and encourage the humanity that we all share.

“Well, I don’t know what to make of that, Sal…”

Chris Matthews can be a bit shouty – but in this case, it’s the only appropriate response. And what a craven, sniveling douche that Sal Russo is – probably worse than Michelle “Crazy Eyes/Balloon Head” Bachmann, who is horrible but actually and demonstrably stupid. This other character knows what she’s saying is outright false, but won’t cop to it. These are the people who hate America.

Un weekend superbe avec Ralph

My friend Ralph came for a visit this weekend. It was a low-key couple of days, but so much fun. His flight was delayed by six hours, so he arrived very late on Friday – so we stayed in and ate cheese and salumi. Plus chocolate truffles and marzipan-stuffed dates he’d prepared in NYC and brought to SF.

Saturday was spent walking up and over Nob Hill and Russian Hill, down Macondray Lane, a pit stop for cannoli in North Beach, then down the Filbert St. steps. Dinner at Chow and some dancing at Badlands.

Sunday was a late breakfast and a lovely dinner at Le Charm. Then a breakfast of bagels and smoked salmon on Monday morning before escorting him to BART for the trip to SFO to fly home to NYC. A fine weekend indeed…

Seven-Second Cat Video Also a Representation of the Human Experience

I stole the headline from The Hairpin, only because there is no way to improve upon it.  Also, be sure to watch this video at least a dozen times in a row, as I did. It gets better each time.

from The Hairpin

Cuz I’m a Cutie, Cutie-Patootie…

So “Little Eden” appeared on Not The View the other morning and performed her adorable little rap act. As horrid and upsetting as the original is, here it is slowed down – and it is both the best and worst thing I’ve seen on the internets in ages. I guess the reason I like it so much is because she sounds exactly like I do when I sing karaoke after a few drinks (which I suppose is redundant – who sings karaoke sober?). Anyhow, enjoy Little Edie Eden!

Oh, and the reactions of the show’s host-ladies are priceless. I think Julie Chen’s is the best. Seriously, if you look up “WTF?” in the dictionary, this picture is next to it…

Why I Love Cher: Reason #804

Cher’s latest (and aptly-named) single “You Haven’t Seen the Last of Me”, from the critically-acclaimed box-office smash Burlesque (eh, you can’t win ’em all – not even Cher), captures the No. 1 spot in the Billboard Dance/Club Play Songs chart. She becomes the first artist with a No. 1 single in each  of the last six decades.

In fitting Cher style, she tells Billboard, “How can it be six decades when I’m only four decades?”

This is some straight-up fierceness. And the song is pretty good too.

from Billboard

Back to the Y

So, after a months-long hiatus, I finally made it back to the gym today. With all of my various trips, ailments, bouts of laziness and tobacco-assisted weight control, I’d managed to avoid the YMCA since sometime last summer. But the combination of holiday gluttony and the almost-but-not-entirely-successful resolution to kick the nicotine habit resulted in a shocking and horrifying run-in with my scale last week: a six pound gain – all of it in my belly, natch, i.e. I still have scrawny arms and a flat ass, but they’re now combined with a protruding belly. Yes, I’m bringing the hawtness…

Anyway, I was sure the Y would be especially horrible. January is the worst month, since everyone is acting on their resolution to get in shape – and most of them are annoying newbies who hog the equipment they don’t know how to use, courting injury and annoying the regulars. But the gym was blessedly empty and I was in and out with nary a problem. Granted, I only did cardio, so I didn’t have to do battle in the free weight area for a bench – but I did have plenty of room on the stretching mats post-elliptical-machine. I even managed to avoid eye-contact with Mr. I’m-Raping-You-With-My-Eyes (yes, of course he’s still there all the time…)

But I should’ve known it was too good to last. I got back to the locker room which was nearly empty – except for some dude using the locker directly next to mine. Ugh. Honestly, when there are plenty of empty lockers, doesn’t it make sense to choose one that is not right next to one already occupied? Apparently not…  But whatever, shit happens I guess. Except he was humming. Yes, that’s right – humming! And no, he didn’t let up – not once. Just stone-cold humming, humming and humming. I think I muttered, “Shut the fuck up.” And by “muttered”, I mean “said aloud in what most people consider a normal conversational volume” (normal conversational volume for me, as all who know me are aware, is shouting. But he just kept on humming and tra-la-la-ing…)

Then a couple of other chatty dudes showed up. And one of them launched into a monologue about having to wait for a “lockbox” (i.e. the penny lockers outside the locker room to store one’s wallet and phone) since they were all full. He couldn’t use the ones on the gym floor, since that would’ve required walking up a flight of stairs (I know! God forbid one should exert oneself at the gym!). So he had to sit and wait for ten minutes until one of the “lockboxes” was vacated. He kept saying “lockbox” over and over again. Seriously, I don’t think even Al Gore used the word “lockbox” that many times. And Al Gore certainly didn’t have to tolerate any nude humming in his vicinity…

Anyway, I’ll be back tomorrow as I continue my concerted effort to minimize my striking resemblance to Jabba the Hut. Good times!

Clang, Clang, Clang Went the Trolley!

This is the new “How to Ride a Cable Car” sign here in SF. Though to my eye it looks more like the storyboard for a choreographed musical number taking place on the streets of the City. And frankly, judging from the highly theatrical moves of that red stick-figure, I think this whole routine was modeled on one of my elaborate and flamboyant journeys on the California Street cable car…

It reminds me of this glorious and vaguely racist old chestnut:

And this is why I love Martha Stewart…

Martha Stewart just had a bit of a run-in with her French bulldog, Francesca. Ms Stewart went to great pains to point out that it was her own fault, not the dog’s (and frankly I believe her, having had a dust-up once with my cat that was completely due to my ignoring his clear warning signs of impending bloodshed). She had to make a trip to the ER to get her upper lip stitched up. And she documented her entire visit – mostly with pictures of her injury and treatment, but also with this priceless gem:

Oh snap!

I suppose I’ve always felt something of an affinity for her meticulous eye and rather tightly-wound demeanor, if only because I’m much the same way (though not nearly so capable when it comes to home craft projects – my hands are just too shaky… I do a pretty good job in the kitchen though) And yet she’s always demonstrated a pretty great sense of humor, even at her own expense. For example, the time she appeared on Conan O’Brien’s old show and happily tucked into a Taco Bell bean burrito and a 40 oz bottle of malt liquor at his behest. I couldn’t find the original, but here’s Martha’s visit to Conan during his last week as host of Late Night.

Vodpod videos no longer available.

“Black salt.” Oh, that is rich…

Oh, and here’s a picture of Francesca the bulldog. I think she was already plotting revenge for being forced to wear this costume…

"I will cut a bitch..."

And this was the most germane comment re. dog attacks on Gawker, from CrabbyChic:

This is why I like teh kittehs. At least I KNOW mine are actively plotting against me, whereas dogs will just one day snap like postal worker Tea Party ballerinas

So true…

The Postmodern Autobiography

Eliot Weinberger

An absolutely fascinating take on GWB’s Decision Points.

“‘Damn right,’ I said” by Eliot Weinberger

There’s also a brief interview with Mr. Weinberger on Wonkette. I thought his observation that the United States “doesn’t take nationalistic pride in its cultural producers” was sadly true and trenchant.

Dry Spell

So, yes, I haven’t been up to much lately, hence the dearth of anything other than re-posted videos. But this one is a quite excellent 17 seconds. Enjoy!

Faster, Pussy Cat!

This is old and I may have even posted before – but I will never tire of watching it. I can’t decide what I like best – but it’s probably the cats’ owners laughing their asses off…

Good morning, world.

Not that I really need to be reminded, but this is why I love to travel. As said on the original post on Gizmodo, “I just want to go to the airport and leave now.”

I consider myself extraordinarily fortunate to be able to travel and see other countries and cultures – and to have visited a handful of the places in this lovely video.

N.B. This is a long-ish video at over 16 minutes. And it’s best watched in HD full-screen if you have the option.

via Gizmodo