Johnny Be Hood

Say it ain't so! John Franco, perennial good guy, associating with the Bonanno crime family? Maybe he pissed somebody off, and that's how his arm got broken. [Ba-dum-bum. Ching.]

I Think I'm

in love. She's my new favorite. No doubt a hottie. But not superhot by TV/famous person standards. You could almost believe she's a regular person. It doesn't hurt that her character on Without a Trace has my dream job either.

Just thought you all should know.

"A" For Effort

Somebody tried to run over Katherine Harris. 4 years too late, but hey, I'd buy him a drink regardless.

Brings to mind the story of when my mother offered to run over my kindergarten teacher, who had always hated me (because I was smarter than her). She wouldn't really have done it, but we were in the car (I was maybe in 3d or 4th grade at the time) and saw her getting out of her car in fromt of what was presumably her house. My mother and I were not huge fans, because of the aforementioned hate she had for me. My mom said "Should we run her over?" I frankly don't recall what I said, but I have a clear recollection of my mom angling the car toward her and swerving out of the way at what I imagine couldn't fairly be described as "the last second," but I do hope we got close enough that she at least took notice. Don't mess with 5-year-old LiAps. Or his mom. Tru dat.

A Deadly Combination

In cleaning out my refrigerator tonight, I dumped a mixture of the following 3 ingredients, all in various states of expiredness, into my kitchen sink: red wine, orange juice, milk. It was NOT pretty. Just goes to prove that food shopping every 6 months is too often for me.

I get a LOT of crap in the mail. I honestly don't know how some of these people get my address. Charities I understand - make one donation and you're on everybody's list for life. But the catalogs that I get sometimes boggle my mind. Today, I received the latest catalog from Northern Tool & Equipment. I am not a big user/collector of tools or equipment of any kind; I don't have room in my tiny apartment for anything that can properly be called equipment. This catalog is chock full o' things I wouldn't buy ever. Ever. I'm sure $59.99 is a really great price for a 7" Wet Tile Saw. I don't have wet tile, and if I did, I sure wouldn't saw it myself. And I cannot fathom what I might do with an Air Nibbler (though the description tells me it's "[i]deal for nibbling plastic, tin, aluminum and other metal up to 18-gauge rolled steel."). I must admit, though, had I any plans for Halloween that required a costume (or any plans at all for that matter), I'd seriously consider buying a Gold Android Welding Helmet (of course, the only one I really needed to link to a picture of is not available online currently). I would make that look good!

The science experiment in my sink reminded me of a funny story. I went to summer camp for 8 years, starting as a 9 year old camper, and eventually working m way up to the prestigious position of Kitchen Guy. Kitchen Guy, because a group of my friends and I had reached counselor age, but the camp had too many counselors. Since we were lifers, they created positions for us. I digress. Camp could be a blog in and of itself. Anyway, long story short, the oldest campers always had a "senior trip" each summer, where they went somewhere for 2 or 3 days, which was, of course, a big treat and an opportunity for incredible mischief, sexual and otherwise. Digressing again. One summer, we went . . . somewhere. I really can't remember. Long time ago. But there was this kid who was, to be blunt, not so smart. Took gullible to a new level. Anyway, apparently he and some other people had eaten some sushi for lunch during the trip, and had never had sushi before. Somehow, somebody (wish I could take credit for this) convinced this kid that, upon eating sushi for the first time, one's body chemistry gets all fucked up, something about the acids and bases, and that the only way to restore equilibrium, and avoid getting really ill, is to drink a cup of half milk (base) and half orange juice (acid) within 24 hours of the sushi consumption. The plan - to make this kid drink that awful cocktail - made its way around to EVERYONE on the trip, including those "adults" running the show. Everybody this kid asked confirmed that he was at risk of fucking up his acids and bases if he didn't drink the milk/OJ right quick. So he did. At breakfast the next morning. He made a huge production of it. Best I can recall, it was about 15 seconds after he downed the cup that the entire rest of the room busted out laughing. Not that funny 15 years later, but at the time, it was good stuff.

My lesson learned for the day (and it's not an epiphany, but I got a good reminder): if you're gonna dish it out, you really do need to be able to take it. Pretending you can take it is not always good enough.

How The Mighty Have Fallen

Watched "Medical Investigation" tonight. Aside from the show sucking - really, really bad acting - Kelli Williams looks awful. I always thought she was hot on The Practice. From day 1. Much hotter than Lara Flynn Boyle. What happened Kelli? Was it something I said?

Belated, Half-Assed Birthday Wishes

to Big Pinz!!! And, a scavenger hunt for the readers. There's a link to a picture of Big Pinz in one of my archived posts. Find it, and you win . . . a picture of Big Pinz!!!

Happy Birthday, Mandingo. May all your wishes come really really close to totally true, with one little irritating exception per wish.

It's That Time

Tomorrow morning, Li'l Ms. LiAps and I head south for a weekend of racin' and boozin'. I promise to take pictures. You might even get to see me in one, though I'll likely be partially disguised by the T-Shirt and or the hat I've seleceted for race day.

Yee haw.

Frustration and Literature

1) Grrrrrrrr! I just came from what was supposed to be the "advanced training session" for NY lawyers who are volunteering to go to polling sites in PA on election day to ensure compliance with the voting laws. It was -- and I do NOT use this term lightly -- a total fucking clown show. The guy who was in charge, who purported to have "studied PA election law" couldn't answer a single question. About what the law was, what we were supposed to do, what the logistical arrangements were going to be, nada. The PA lawyer participating by conference call knew slightly more. There were 400 plus (I think) NY lawyers in this room who had taken valuable time out of their schedules because they were told this was a crucial session in order to learn how to do this volunteer work for which they are taking an additional day to week out of their schedules. The billing rate for the room as a whole likely far exceeded $100,000 per hour. And these jackasses didn't know the first thing about anything.

I actually (and this is SO un-me) stood up in the very last row of the room and yelled out, interrupting the head jackass's mumbling to explain that the answers to each of the questions posed -- and just about everything else someone should need to know in order to be confident in doing the poll monitoring -- was contained in a pamphlet, which I pulled out of my briefcase and raised above my head. I explained that said pamphlet was available from the DNC website. And that I had found said pamphlet by clicking on a link in an email I received from the very organization running the meeting. The jackasses were dumbfounded. They continued to hem and haw and stumble, while I accepted thanks and congratulations (and some suggestions that I should be in charge), passed around the pamphlet to the people in my immediate area of the crowd, and answered some questions from other lawyers who apparently hadn't even gotten the email yet, because this group is clearly so well organized. I then decided I could take no more jackassness. So I got up while head jackass was still babbling, and made my way clear across the room, and out the door. I'd like to say I got a standing O, but I was content with the big smile from the cute girl I passed on my way out (Were I in full playa mode, I would have said something to the effect of "If you ever want to get together and study PA election law, give me a call," and handed her my card. But, uh, I didn't.).

I'm going to study the booklet. And, if I ever get assigned to a polling place, I'm going to go to PA and do this thing, because I believe it's necessary and will make me feel better. But this was a really disheartening experience. The campaigns and various sub-groups are really really good at asking for money, and apparently not much else.

2) I'm reading a book right now called "The Fortress of Solitude" by Jonathan Lethem. I had read one of his previous books, "Motherless Brooklyn," and loved it. This one had failed to impress so far. I'm only 80 pages in, but I feel like Lethem is trying way to hard to make the writing style complex and poetic, and not doing a great job of telling a story, where there clearly is one to be told. I was about to give up. Emotionally - as in, resign myself to not liking it, but finish it anyway. Because, with very rare exceptions, once I start a book, I finish it even if it su-ucks. But I think he might have renewed my faith with the following paragraph, which I know might not look look like all that, but there was just something about it:

"Though certain to resume his galactic harangue before long, Perry Kandel paused now to savor his own last rhetorical flourish like he was sucking on an invisible cigar. Then, price extracted -- Abraham Ebdus was more than usually conscious this day that every single thing in the world had its price -- his old teacher scribbled a name and a phone number on the pink duplicate copy of a student evaluation form and pushed it across the desk."

H-Dog Out.

Done and Done (one year later)

In honor of this watershed date in history, I have freed up a ton of space in my hotmail account. Please feel free to send me huge files full of porn.

Fleeting Thoughts on Courtesy/Niceness

Last night, my oldest and best friend in the world was in from Florida with his fiancee. We went out to Jersey, where his brother and his brother's girlfriend were having a little party at their place. I had an incredible time - so much fun. We truly are talking about my best friend, and one of my all around favorite people in the world. I also happen to be a huge fan of his fiancee, as well as his brother and (especially) his brother's girlfriend. But how much fun I had was not the point. He and the fiancee were staying over at his brother's place, and we had taken a bus out there (which could be a whole 'nother post), so I needed a way back to NYC. My friend arranged for one of his brother's friends, who was driving back into the city anyway, to give me a ride. If any of this sounds ungrateful, you're totally taking it the wrong way. It was incredibly nice for this guy to offer me -- someone he'd never met before -- a ride home. Especially when you consider that I was the 6th passenger in a car that could barely fit 5 comfortably. The very guy whose car it was sat in the back with his fiancee on his lap (and she hit her head on the roof a couple of times - I felt awful). It would never occur to me though to take someone almost home. They were heading to Tribeca; I live in Chelsea. We took the Lincoln Tunnel. By all accounts, my apartment is on the way, or at least on A way, to where they were going. I live at X Street and Y Avenue. Y + 1 Avenue runs downtown, into the heart of Tribeca. This guy said to me "We'll just drop you off at X and Y +3, OK?" Now, it WAS OK. Really. I love to walk, 3 Avenue blocks is not that far, and despite the fact that the walk takes you past some of the pro-o-jects and it was after midnight, I truly never let that bother me. I didn't mind the walk, honest. But it would just never occur to me to be within 3 blocks of where someone lives and not drop them off at their door. I, of course, would drop someone off at their door even if I were going to Tribeca and that person lived on the UES. I would never expect that of most people, but I would. Anyway, I'm rambling. And I'm not looking for someone to tell me that I'm a better person than this guy. It just really got me thinking.

Sort of to the contrary, Thursday night on my way home from work, I was on the subway. A little girl in my car puked all over the place. I could tell the story in detail, but I can't handle it. I hate puke. Like worse than anything else. The idea of it is just so revolting to me. As a kid, even when I had the same stomach virus as every kid in camp, I just wouldn't let myself puke because I can't stand the feeling. Don't like to do it myself, don't like when other people do it near me, just really really hate it (though I have been known to hold hair for puking girls despite my serious distaste for it - I'm really a good boyfriend, no matter what you might have heard). So I see (and hear) this little girl puking on the train, and all I'm thinking is how to get as far away as possible, as quick as possible. I was getting off at the next stop anyway, but that wasn't good enough. As I start edging toward the door, I see the woman who was sitting next to the girl at the time of the incident -- and whose shoes and leg undeniably got a bit splattered (if that had been me I swear I would have considered leaving my shoes, and my pants, on the train) -- reach for her bag. I thought she could only be thinking the same thing as me - "I do not know about you, but I am planning to scream and run" (name the movie). Instead, puke splattered shoes and all, she, without leaving her seat, reached into her bag and pulled out some napkins to hand to the little girl's mother. A couple of other people produced napkins or tissues also. I don't know why I was so impressed, but I was.

Totally unrelated - Fox has been getting some really amazing crowd shots at Fenway tonight. Even if you don't like the team, you have to love Red Sox fans. Tomorrow morning, I'm attending a training session for lawyers who want to volunteer to go to swing states on election day to monitor the polls and make sure they actually let people vote. It will be nice to feel like I'm doing something good with my law degree. 1 hour every 4 years ain't bad.

Ouch! Jo Dee Messina just messed up the words to God Bless America. Man, country music is never gonna get any respect.

Blasphemy!!

Halloween on a Sunday??? Say what you will about the evils of the Roman Calendar, but I blame Saddam Hussein and the Democrats.

Have a good weekend everybody.

Spin This, Bi-Atch!!!

Man, this is far and away the greatest Smoking Gun court pleading ever, and that's saying a lot. O'Reilly is going DOWN [pause for comments]. This woman was brilliant, just waiting and taping, waiting and taping. Makes me wish someone with grillions of dollars would harass me.

Public Service Announcement: No offense to my middle eastern friends, but I can't imagine rubbing "falafel" on your (or someone else's) "pussy," no matter how "really light" is either sanitary or sexy.

Gotta Love This Place

So the link doesn't expire, I'm pasting below the entire text of a story that appears in today's Times. Apparently, a local weekly paper based near Crawford, Texas -- home of the Moron Ranch -- has had the nerve to endorse that other guy who's not Bush. So, what have some local residents done?? Read the paper's endorsement and consider whether the editors might have a point? Say, "I disagree, I believe W is the greatest thing since sliced bread, and intend to vote for him several times, including in Florida and Pennsylvania, but I respect your contrary opinion, what with free press, free speech, etc. etc.?" No, instead, they've started a boycott of the paper which has cut subscriptions in half, has resulted in all of the paper's distributors in Crawford refusing to carry it, and brought about threats of "physical harm." Brilliant!!

There must be something in the water. But a co-worker of mine sent an email suggesting that, to combat the ignorance apparently rampant in that part of Texas, supporters -- of Kerry and/or the First Amendment -- purchase a 6 month subscription to the paper (The Lone Star Iconoclast - I shit you not) for the princely sum of $22.50. I think it's a fine idea. I'll be paying for it with my Bush tax cut.

October 13, 2004 HOMETOWN POLITICS
Sure, Country Is Divided, but Bush Country, Too?B y RALPH BLUMENTHAL
CRAWFORD, Tex., Oct. 8 - And you think the country is polarized?
The folks at Security Bank of Crawford, the Yellow Rose and the Red Bull (souvenir shops, not bars), and the Fina filling station where farm elders commune over coffee at dawn in the "Room of Knowledge," are strongly for President Bush, the Republican favorite son whose ranch put tiny, boozeless Crawford on the world map.

Mayor Robert Campbell, a Democrat, is for Senator John Kerry, which has not stopped him from trying to snare the Bush presidential papers for nearby Baylor University when Mr. Bush leaves office - this January, Mr. Campbell hopes. A local weekly newspaper, The Lone Star Iconoclast, living up to its name, has also declared for Mr. Kerry, paying a steep price in canceled subscriptions and hate mail.

The Crawford Peace House across the tracks - well, it is officially nonpartisan but it is hardly partial to the commander in chief of the Iraq war.

For a quiet country crossroads (population 735) near Waco, the place billing itself as "the hometown of our 43rd president" is not immune from the scorched-earth politics roiling the nation less than a month before Election Day.

"What we did was like slapping their mother," said Nathan Diebenow, 25, one of four - oops, make that three - staff writers on The Iconoclast, whose collaborative Sept. 29 editorial, "Kerry Will Restore American Dignity," set off a furor here, quickly crashing the paper's Web site (iconoclast-texas.com) with 6,496 hits, far more than the normal 250 a day. "The more reasons we gave," Mr. Diebenow said, "the worse it was." A fourth staff member listed on the masthead, David Anderson, associate editor, has dissociated himself from the editorial, said Michael Harvey, spokesman for the editor in chief, W. Leon Smith.

The newspaper, which endorsed Mr. Bush in 2000, faulted him for "a hidden agenda" that it said included emptying the Social Security trust fund, cutting Medicare, veterans benefits and military pay and involving the country in "a deadly and highly questionable war."
"He let us down," the newspaper said.

Mr. Smith, 51, the Iconoclast's snowy-bearded majority owner and fervid Ronald Reagan admirer, said in his cluttered office in nearby Clifton that all three of the newspaper's outlets in Crawford had stopped selling it and that a readers' boycott had cut newsstand and subscription sales to 482 copies a week from 920.

In a note to readers in the Oct. 6 issue, he also said, "Unfortunately, for The Iconoclast and its publishers there have been threats - big ones including physical harm." (The newspaper's namesake was a Waco publication revived in 1895 by William Cowper Brann, an ornery rabble-rouser who, upon being mortally shot in the back by an outraged Baylor University partisan, managed to kill his assailant in return. "I certainly don't want to end up that way," Mr. Smith said.)

The newspaper's Web site reported that 700 letters had poured in, pro and con, and that nearly 100 people had opened new subscriptions.

Joyce Smith, who works at the Fina station, where the newspaper has been pulled off the stands, was adamant. "Everybody has freedom of expression," she said, "but there are repercussions."
She and others in town complained that Mr. Smith had chosen to foist his views in the special issue devoted to the Tonkawa Traditions Festival, the annual Crawford fair, named for an Indian tribe, which raises money for community improvements and scholarships. "He took advantage of the advertisers," Ms. Smith said.

To "dispel the rumor that the town backed Kerry," 128 individual and commercial supporters of President Bush took out a two-page advertisement on Oct. 7 in another weekly, The McGregor Mirror, declaring that they "wholeheartedly endorse" him for re-election.

Mr. Campbell, 61, a Methodist pastor who has been mayor since 1999, said he saw the momentum shifting to Mr. Kerry. "I think a lot of people are looking seriously to switch to his side," he said. Of course, the businessmen were Republicans, he said.

"They're for Bush," he said of the stores on either side of his small municipal office on the main street. "The bank's for Bush, the Yellow Rose is for Bush. When you think about it, business is for Bush. He helps them." Still, he said, it would be a boon to Crawford to get the Bush papers for Baylor rather than Texas A&M University in College Station, Southern Methodist University in Dallas or Texas Tech in Lubbock.

"I may be a Democrat and support a Democratic candidate," he said, "but I'm also for the welfare of the community." (Baylor is also Mayor Campbell's alma mater.)

Clearly, with the overwhelming support of Crawford voters in his race against Al Gore in 2000, Mr. Bush, who bought his 1,600-acre ranch just west of town in 1999, is the favorite here. Yes, said Larry Nelson, manager of Crawford Country Style, visitors to his Bush-themed shop may include Kerry supporters, but, he added with a comic's pause that drew appreciative hoots from customers, "they don't mention it."

The frontier-town-like strip of once-abandoned stores brim with Republican knickknacks, many with an official-looking presidential seal marked "Western White House." Country Style featured mock Western movie posters for "The Last of the Clintons." A few doors down, the Yellow Rose, festooned with Bush-Cheney banners, serenaded customers with a pro-Bush ballad to the tune of "You're the Top." ("Vote for Bush/On November 2/Get off Your Tush/Let Your Choice be Reckoned.") It also offered a George Bush talking doll for $23.97 that says things like this: "It's not the pollution that's harming our environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it"; and "I understand small-business growth. I was one."

"The Secret Service gets a kick out of it when they come in here," a sales clerk said.
Shopkeepers say that while the president normally bypasses the stores for security reasons, only dropping in periodically at Crawford's sole restaurant, the Coffee Station, his proximity has been good for business. At the Main Street Place, Joe Cuff said he had seen 175,000 visitors in the three years his wife's store had been open and he marked their hometowns on a world map peppered with sticky red dots.

But like the country at large, there are gradations of support for Mr. Bush. In the deserted Di-An-Tiques & Things, by a wall painted with a stirring flag mural invoking "The Spirit of America," the owner, Diane Binnion, watched a televangelist and bemoaned a lack of business. "It's a little slow," she said, "not the traffic we used to have." She attributed it to "gas prices and all the gloom and doom." But she said, "I'm going to support him, no matter what. I'd be scared if it went the other way."

At the Crawford Peace House, which opened last year and in July sponsored a thronged outdoor showing of Michael Moore's anti-Bush film, "Fahrenheit 9/11," Joshua Collier, the resident volunteer, said townsfolk had dropped the "one finger wave" and derisive yells, growing accepting if not fully welcoming. "This space," he said, "helps to prove that civil discussion is still possible."

Briefly

I've been meaning to post about some of the more hilarious spam I get in my various inboxes. Specifically the creative "Sender" and "Subject" fields, because, who really goes any further than that? (OK, I click on the occasional promise of "Hot Teeenz Who Want Your Ccok," but come on, I'm human). I don't really have time, but a friend forwarded me this link. And it's short but funny. Enjoy.

UPDATE - Forgot to give credit where it is definitely due. Thanks for this tidbit go to Big Al.

Aaaaarrrghhhhhhhh!!!

That was all. Now back to your regularly scheduled Friday night/early Saturday morning programming. Which, for me, is this.

Gentlemen, Start Your Digital Cameras!

It's official. My sister (Little Ms. LiAps??) and I are goin' a' redneck watchin'!!! We will be attending the Subway 500 at the Martinsville Speedway in 2 and a half weeks or so. This was actually her suggestion; she said she thought experiencing a NASCAR event would be about the best people-watching experience ever. I coudn't have agreed more, and went ahead and made plans. I bought us race tickets (the cheapest ones they had - on the "Backstretch"), used miles to book us both flights (to Greensboro, NC - I always love going to places where you fly into an entirely different state than the one where the event you're traveling to is being held), got an incredibly cheap hotel room from a good friend who works for a major national hotel chain, and rented us a ve-hicle.

I'm really looking forward to it. Because of age difference, gender difference, and various family circumstances which were just plain awful, my sister and I were not so close for a good long time. Now that we're both (relatively) adults and live a mere 5 blocks from each other, I think we have been growing closer. This should be a really good sibling bonding experience -- time together without the usual bullshit that comes with "family time."

One of my friends suggested I need to get myself a "Who Farted?" T-shirt and rip the sleeves off. Not sure I can handle going that deep undercover, but I'll try to blend.

I know Sloth mentioned having gone to see a NASCAR event in New England a few months back, and I'm sure any pictures I take won't even compare to hers, but I'll do what I can y'all.

Another Page From the "It Could Always Be Worse" Files

I'm in an exceptionally bad mood, and having an exceptionally bad day (and night) at work. But, all things considered, I'm in better shape than this guy:

Man Mistakenly Cuts Off Penis, Dog Eats It
Mon Oct 4,10:41 AM ET

Oddly Enough - Reuters
BUCHAREST (Reuters) - A elderly Romanian man mistook his penis for a chicken's neck, cut it off and his dog rushed up and ate it, the state Rompres news agency said Monday.

It said 67 year-old Constantin Mocanu, from a village near the southeastern town of Galati, rushed out into his yard in his underwear to kill a noisy chicken keeping him awake at night.
"I confused it with the chicken's neck," Mocanu, who was admitted to the emergency hospital in Galati, was quoted as saying. "I cut it ... and the dog rushed and ate it."
Doctors said the man, who was brought in by an ambulance bleeding heavily, was now out of danger.

We're Headed For Self Destruction!

Things not to do on or around your birthday:

1) Read 2 year old emails from ex-girlfriend.
2) Come home slightly drunk and play internet blackjack for real money.

On the bright side, it's a beautiful day, and the last Met game of the season. I will be one of approximately seven people in the entire stadium, but I need to say goodbye to baseball until April. I've got some extra tickets if anyone can get to me in the next half hour.

"Who You Callin' A Pimp?" "Uh, You Dad."

Though I can't top the "Pimpin' in Court" photo from Pinzurville (see July 9), this opinion is worth reading. "Dabbled in the pimptorial arts" might be my new favorite phrase. Thanks to How Appealing. Have a good weekend everybody.