Will Work for Food...Will Drink for Camera?

Consider this my first abuse of the Blog platform...and a cry for help to all of my reader(s).

I drink a lot of Diet Coke.
I want a digital camera.

Why are those two thoughts so intertwined? Well, I'm glad you asked. The fine folks over at Coca-Cola have a promotion going on - MyCokeRewards. Drink Coke, Input Codes, Get Stuff. It's that easy. Or so I thought.

I really want a digital camera - a nice one. I've been borrowing one from work, and have taken some of my best work of late (where's my damned photo credit??) with my friend Phil's camera. So, in lieu of money (of which I have none), I'm looking for Coke product CODES (from 12-packs, bottles, liters, etc.) I thought I could do it on my own. However, for the last two weeks, I have been entering codes into their website - feeling like a castoff from the Swan Station at the Dharma Initiative. After two weeks, I have a whopping total of 64 points. To get a digital camera, I need 1600 points. That is many many more than 64. Oh, and I need them all by June 12.

This is why I turn to my blog reader(s). If you drink any Coke product that has codes - I want your codes! I know this is a long shot, but figure that it couldn't hurt to ask. Help! If you think you can donate any boxtops, caps, etc., please respond to this blog (via a comment) and I'll take it from there. Thanks. :)

As long as I'm abusing the rules of the blog...

Personal to Matthew: Drive safely. May Highway 61 treat you with kindness. Enjoy the East Coast (again). And know that you will be terribly missed. I'm not losing a blog-reader, I'm gaining one in Rhode Island. And for anyone who wants to learn from Matthew's mistakes, you can read this.

Square One in the LA Times...AGAIN!

Finally, Chef Hayden Ramsey gets her moment in the sun (or newsprint, as it were).

Get the recipe for her "terrific coffeecake, one that impressed Times restaurant critic S. Irene Virbila with its fluffy crumb and buttery, lush flavor" here.

:)

Sincerely Yours, The Breakfast Club

R.I.P. Principal Vernon (Paul Gleason)

Richard "Dick" Vernon:
These kids turned on me...they think I'm a big fuckin' joke...

Carl the Janitor:
Come on...listen Vern, if you were sixteen, what would you think of you, huh?

Vernon:
Hey...Carl, you think I give one rat's ass what these kids think of me?

Carl:
Yes I do...

Vernon:
You think about this...when you get old, these kids; when I get old, they're gonna be runnin' the country.

Carl:
Yeah?

Vernon:
Now this is the thought that wakes me up in the middle of the night...That when I get older, these kids are gonna take care of me...

Carl:
I wouldn't count on it!

Is this thing on?

Apologies go out to my many fan(s) who check in to my blog expecting to read whatever crap happens to fall from my fingertips...

My DSL line at home has been out since Monday and it mysteriously came back in full force today (after about 87 calls to the phone company - who said they couldn't fix the line until Monday - a HOLIDAY).

So I promise. Drivel soon.

Two funny men

Pinch me I'm dreaming. My Irish boyfriend, Denis Leary, appeared on my Jewish boyfriend's TV show - The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.

Denis also pimped Greg Dulli's band, The Twilight Singers.

It was great television, but you don't have to take my word for it, you can watch it yourself.

Now That's What I Call (Reality) TV!

Wow. Yesterday is the kind of television day that I just dream about (read as: potential nightmare). First of all, I need to tell you that Wednesdays SUCK. There are about 900 hours of TV that I need to find a way to cram into a reasonable hour that doesn't have me staying up all night. Thank god for the TiVo and the TiFaux. I can literally capture three programs that all start at eight PM. What the heck would I do without technology? I shudder to think.

Let me start off by saying that the week wasn't boding well. After seeing Terry eliminated from the Final Three on Survivor...I thought that all was wrong in this world. Terry was THE ultimate survivor. Not only did he win about a million immunity challenges in a row - he managed to find the "hidden immunity idol" after being on Exile Island for about 34 seconds. Dominant, competitive, honest, and quite frankly, handsome and bearing salt and pepper hair. That's all I need in a Survivor million dollar winner. Anyway, Terry was sooooo wrongly voted off (don't even get me started on how little Danielle deserved to be F2), I thought that the week was going to suck.


And then came Wednesday. So...at eight, I decide to watch The Amazing Race. It's between Ray & Yolanda, The Frat Boys, and BJ & Tyler, who I wrote about/fawned over in a previous blog entry. I figured that there was a 66% chance I wouldn't be angry. I hate those damned frat boys, for about a hundred reasons, but laughed every time the "hippies" said "Damn you, frat boyssssssss!" So to quote Television Without Pity, blah blah blah, BJ and Tyler win (sans ick). They were just positive, awesome and happy and full of smiles and just a joy to watch. I'm just thrilled that after last week's awful, yukky, bleh, vomitous Fast Forward (they each had to eat a bowl of fried crickets - see picture), the boys made it to the front of the pack. They were also so unbelievably looked down upon for being "hippies" that I absolutely LOVE (with all capital letters) the fact that the last road block came down to INTELLIGENCE (more capital letters). I am sure that the frat boys didn't think that the hippies were smart enough to find and arrange all of the flags in order of the countries that they visited. On top of the fact that the previous leg took place in Japan - and Tyler speaks nearly fluent Japanese. Damn you frat boys....NOT! Yay, tonight is looking UP!

Next on my list: Lost. It's not reality TV, so it will not be addressed in this blog. (Although that Sawyer is too damned hot for his or MY own good.)

I go to Top Chef on Bravo. It's down to the Final Three. Dave, Tiffany and Harold. It's part one of a two-part finale in Las Vegas. Dave is first to arrive in Vegas, then Harold. They wish that it was just the two of them. As do I. Eventually, the beeyotch Tiffany shows up. That's right, I won't link to her. She doesn't deserve my link. Next day, they are told that they have to create dishes for several different "room service" customers. The "High Rollers" turn out to be three former contestants on the show; the Poker table is actually full of 'famous' poker players, and the final group is the troupe from Cirque du Soleils' Ka show (which was the most surreal experience of the night - with their makeup and costumes). Ultimately, Harold won one, Dave nearly won two (if he could count) and Tiffany won ZERO. Illogically, Dave is sent back home - although I can understand why his neurotic, unfocused and flustered ways can't possibly make him a top chef. In reality, all I care about is that my TV boyfriend Harold, is still in the running.

At this point, I figure that I'm two for two. BJ/Tyler with TAR and Harold at TC. It's 11:30 and I decide to go for it. Pllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeease tell me that Jade is not America's Next Top Model. She is a know-it-all bitch, and that's just the tip of her iceberg. Thank god Jade had to have a major "releasement" of her contestantship. Which ultimately leads to two of the sweetest (seemingly) girls vying for the Number One position. Ultimately, I'm fine with Danielle winning it all. As long as it's not Jade. Yuck, yuck and treble yuck.

Here's Danielle being, well, Top Model-ly gorgeous.



So, all in all, a great night. Those that I wanted to win, won. Those that I didn't want to win, lost.

And somewhere along the road tonight, a little Fox tells me that Paula Abdul cried her eyes out because of a funky white boy who is 90% deaf in one ear is going home. Give me a freakin' break.

Used to Sell His Soul for Rock and Roll...

If I didn't know any better, I would think that my friend Phil might have sold his soul to the devil. In the best possible way of course. :)

As of this morning, Square One Dining (and Phil) is/are the "poster boy" of the Los Angeles CitySearch Restaurant website. If that wasn't enough, the NEW YORK TIMES was in last week filming a segment for their website. On top of that, Los Angeles magazine called. There was a piece in Variety last week...the New York Post a couple of weeks ago. I tell ya, someone is looking out for them...

I'm just proud to know them!

Are You Effing Kidding Me??

Here's the picture I took before I passed out at the gas station today.

Two comments:

1. I have a freaking HONDA, it shouldn't cost me fifty bucks to fill the tank.

2. Gas is going to get more expensive? Check please!

"Who Would've Thought the Hero Would Get the Girl?"

Thank you Steve Carrell for writing what could possibly be the most awesome and satisfying end to a season of television with an episode of The Office called "Casino Night."

The line that is the title of this blog was spoken by Carrell's character, Michael Scott. He was saying it about himself (for "successfully" juggling two so-called "dates" at the office casino party), but as the writer of the show, I have to believe that he was saying it with a giant wink to the viewers. Why, you ask? I'm glad you did.

All-around excellent catch and ubercrush Jim works in The Office, as does super cute and funny Pam, who is the receptionist. Jim and Pam (dubbed "JAM" on certain websites & blogs) have been best of friends for two seasons - flirty, funny, smart and make getting through the day at Dunder-Mifflin almost bearable. And of course, Jim is in love with Pam. And also - Pam is in love with Jim - she just hasn't admitted it to anyone (including herself) yet. However, she's engaged to a dolty meathead who works in the warehouse, Roy. Sure, Roy is the kindof guy you want to have around if you need some heavy lifting done around the house, or the air conditioner filter changed, or a tire replaced. But he's not the kind of guy that Jim is. Not even close.

Meanwhile, back at the casino night, Roy leaves the party early, telling Jim to "keep an eye on" Pam. And boy, does he...

In what could be some of the best written and acted scenes in TV in awhile, Jim tells Pam he's in love with her. Pam...well, "can't." She calls her mom, Jim finds her and they kiss. Closing credits. Who Would've Thought the Hero Would Get the girl?

Let's not even think about the fallout from this. Is Jim still going to transfer? Is Pam still going to get married to Roy? Is Jim still going to Australia? Will the two of them really get together? We'll have no answers until the fall season. But until then...let's revel in the magic of JAM. (If I have figured it out right, you should be able to watch the scene - via YouTube - below.)

Four Balls

My friend Bean flew in today from Seattle – just in time for the annual KROQ Weenie Roast. We met up for dinner at one of our favorite places – Roscoe’s House of Chicken and Waffles. I know what you’re saying “Chicken and Waffles??” Trust me, it works. I’m not sure how, it just does. It may be the crack cocaine and heroin that they put in the waffle batter, I’m not quite sure. Ultimately, I digress.

During the course of our conversation, he mentions a GREAT idea that he came up with. Wouldn’t it be great if all MLB pitchers banded together and agreed, as an entity, to walk Barry Bonds from now until the end of (his) time? Right now he is dangerously close to Babe Ruth’s Home Run record tally of 715. (Please note the lack of an asterisk after the name Babe Ruth.) With two more “unknowingly took steroids” out-of-the-park swings, he will be in the record books. Boooooooo.

I ran the idea by some of my massive sporto fans this evening – to mixed response. One felt that it was awesome that someone cared so much about baseball that they would come up with a scheme. Another hates the San Francisco Giants and Barry Bonds so much that he is game for anything. The third was adamantly opposed to the concept, citing the fact that probably 30% of all of the pitchers that have been pitching to Bonds over the years have also been juiced, which negates the whole concept.

Bean and I parted ways tonight – both of us knowing that he would rush back to his hotel and immediately purchase the domain “walkbarrybonds.com”. Fast forward to now – not only is the domain no longer available...but someone is already (pretty much) trying to push the exact same concept through. (It's funny that it redirects to a "steroid free gear" domain name.)

So, if you’re down with the idea...click here to find out the Giants schedule and email all of the opposing teams from now until...whenever.

Reformed, Not Rehabilitated...

I know it's hard to believe, but I actually went out of the house on a Saturday night and drove past Fairfax Avenue - on my way to Santa Monica to see The Leonards play. Who are The Leonards, you ask? I could try and give you an answer, but I will let this article explain it all for you.

I worked with two of these guys a few years back - Lenny and Tom. Met Nick through them and then John. The band decided to reform as a tribute to Tom, who passed away last April. They added George on bass, and The (not rehabilitated) Leonards were created. And I'm glad they were.

They played at 14 Below in Santa Monica...I'm guessing named because the temperature in the room was 14 degrees below the actual temperature of molten lava. (I'm saying it was a bit warm.) They rocked the house - great rock music - no posing (but there was pozza-ing) - no fancy haircuts - no fancy wardrobe - just great rock. I knew some of the songs from their EP called "Blister" - but was pretty blown away by the last song of the set, a cover of a song from 1978 called "Homicide" by a UK punk band called 999.

So - thanks for the great night out, guys...and let me know next time you're playing!

And anyone reading this blog, do yourself a favor - get over to their MySpace page and check out their straight-ahead great rock music.

Where is the "good" in goodbye?

~Author Unknown










Goodnight my sweet friend...may you ride painlessly into the afterlife...which I hope is full of long walks, cookies, cheese and nuts. And people who love you as much as we do.