December 29, 2006
There's no place like Home, but what if Someone got Murdered there?
Yesterday, the Associated Press reported that a married couple that wants to stay anonymous is close to purchasing the house where Scott and Laci Peterson lived. When asked why the hell they would want to live in that particular abode, the wife exclaimed, “Don't get me wrong. It breaks my heart to think about what happened there, but it really is a wonderful house and a great neighborhood.” When her husband was asked if he had anything to add, he replied, “I figure living there is the best shot I have at porking Amber Frey.” Despite repeated calls to various brothels, Ms. Frey could not be reached for comment.
Posted by fool at 12:15 AM | Comments (5)December 27, 2006
No Dentists, No (Good) Food, No Official Plane?
Did you hear about the British Airways flight that broke two runway lights in Miami yesterday? British Prime Minister Tony Blair and his family were on that flight. My question is: "Why?"
Doesn't the U.K. have its own version of Air Force One? If not, why the hell not? This is Great Britain, not Somalia or Iraq or Sri Lanka. Surely the leader of the British government deserves better than a commercial flight out of Heathrow.
Posted by fool at 12:05 AM | Comments (4)For the Love of God, Stop the Tooting
On one of my recent flights, someone had a very bad case of gas. After about an hour of sniffing the toxic fumes, I finally blurted out, "Whoever is farting would you please stop!" Much to my surprise, my statement worked. That or the person secretly guzzled some Pepto.
Posted by fool at 12:00 AMDecember 23, 2006
More Christmas Shopping Fun
Mama Fool, Sister Fool, and I just did a little last-minute Christmas shopping. As we exited one store, the following exchange took place:
Store Employee: Have a nice Christmas!
Sister Fool: We’re Jewish.
Store Employee: Oh, I’m sorry.
Sister Fool: I’m just kidding.
This was followed by a lot of laughter. As Walter Cronkite would say, “And that’s the way it is!”
Posted by fool at 10:53 PM | Comments (4)December 22, 2006
Rocky Balboa - Playing at a Theater Near You
Rocky Balboa
The Gist: Adrian is dead. Mickey is dead. Apollo is dead. Rocky is pushing 80. His kid has so much disdain for the old man that you’d think Rocky spent the last two dozen years sodomizing the little tyke as retribution for staying up late or failing to show up at Rocky’s restaurant. Nevertheless, the former champ develops a sudden fire to fight again when an ESPN computer determines that a younger Rocky would defeat the current champ if the two had been able to square off against each other.
What Would Have Made this Movie Better: To quote Montgomery Burns, “I know what I hate. And I didn’t hate this.” With that stated, you cannot travel into the theater with lofty expectations. After all, the premise of the movie is nothing short of idiotic. With that stated, it would have been nice if Sylvester Stallone’s face looked more natural. The guy definitely looks fantastic for his age and his body is absolutely ripped, but you still can’t help but think “I wonder if Ray from Dr. 90210 was his surgeon” every time you look at the champ’s eyebrows. A few more Paulie quips also would have added to the experience.
Who Should See This: If you’ve seen all the other Rocky films, you might as well complete the journey. For the rest of you bastards, there are too many promising looking films out right now to venture to this one.
The Verdict: C.
December 21, 2006
Papa Fool and Thinking Fool go to the Supermarket
Mama Fool just sent Papa Fool and me to the supermarket to pick up some powdered sugar and ketchup. When Papa Fool spotted the condiment aisle (i.e. where mustard and ketchup are located), he noticed that an uptight-looking woman was within earshot.
Papa Fool: Let’s see, I think this is where the condoms are.
Thinking Fool: No, that’s not right, dad. Remember when we bought condoms last time? They’re on the other side of the store.
Woman Who Overheard the Exchange: Disgusted look on her face.
Later, it was slightly embarrassing when she was behind us at the checkout line. But the earlier expression on her face made any discomfort worth it!
It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas...
December 19, 2006
Oh the Weather Outside is Perfect...
Salesperson: “Do you need a gift receipt with this?”
Thinking Fool: “No thanks. If they don’t like what I got them, they can go straight to hell.”Posted by fool at 08:24 AM | Comments (8)
December 18, 2006
Al's Steak House - My Rebuttal
At some point in the last few months, the Washington Post ran a story about Al’s Steak House, a small restaurant located in Alexandria, Virginia.
As I read that story on my evening commute home – remember, I take the Metro to and from work; I’m not one of these idiots who tries to read newspaper articles or novels while driving – my mouth started watering with so much temptation and lust that I was certain I was breaking at least two of the Ten Commandments.
The author had crafted such a wonderful piece.
In fact, it’s hard to imagine anyone performing better written fellatio on a restaurant. By the end of the review, if Al’s Steak House didn’t have the most powerful orgasm that it’s ever had, well, I don’t think even a bottle of Cialis and the Director’s Cut of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show could help.
As I absorbed each line of text, my mind instinctively jumped into the time machine known as my memory and quickly conjured up images of the wonderful cheestesteaks I used to enjoy at least twice a week in college.
When I realized that it had been nearly five years since I ventured to the nation’s capital, all I could think was, “Wow! I haven’t had a great cheesesteak in half a decade!”
Needless to say, for the next few days, Al’s occupied my mind like a powerful new crush.
As with most things we lust after in life, time had a way of reducing my longings for Al’s.
Then, last week, out of the blue, that Washington Post article crept into my thoughts.
Initially, I wondered if I’d even be able to figure out the name of the restaurant. All I could remember from the newspaper article was that the author seemed like, given the chance, he’d go down on Al’s faster than Miss USA Tara Conner would on a New York City drug dealer who promised her an 8-ball of cocaine. (Sometimes it’s good to be a drug dealer. Attention drug dealers in Kentucky, get ready – it looks like she’s coming home.)
Much to my surprise, I was able to pin down the restaurant’s name on my first search.
Al’s Steak House.
Short.
Sweet.
Simple.
I couldn’t wait.
I glanced at Al’s menu online and knew right away that I’d be devouring the medium Steak and American Cheese. Over the summer, I had sampled the fare at Gino’s – the famous Philadelphia landmark – and came away with the same feeling that Ogre had after trying one of the Nerds’ pies. “It was good, but it wasn’t great.” And Betty Childs was certainly nowhere to be found in Philly.
Somehow, I knew Al’s would be better even if Gino’s had the name.
After all, the website included the kind of genuine testimonial that you’d quickly offer up for your favorite, childhood restaurant, which you still frequent whenever you get the chance. “I personally remember taking my lunch money and sneaking down to Al’s during break from a local high school. Once you try one for yourself, you will agree that it is the best there is.”
While my lust was at the front and center of my brain, I figured I needed to act.
Expecting to be turned down, I sheepishly asked Coworkers #1 and #2 if they’d be interested in venturing outside the District for lunch that day.
Much to my surprise, they quickly agreed. I guess when the boss is away, the mice really do play.
Coworker #2, the resident expert on all things that are Alexandria, knew exactly how to get us to Al’s as quickly as possible.
As we entered the restaurant, I glanced to my left and then to my right.
For a moment, I figured I knew what it felt like to date an Asian man. “It’s a lot smaller than I expected,” I thought.
But I wanted to see how Al’s would use what it had before passing judgment.
After all, I figured. If life has taught me anything, it’s that usually the dumps offer the best grub.
And then again, sometimes not so much.
Sigh.
I took one bite of my cheesesteak and immediately thought back to the newspaper article and how it lamented the fact that places like Al’s don’t seem to exist anymore.
Well, I can tell you why these types of places don’t exist.
They don’t exist because your mouth goes in anticipating a superb sensation, and instead comes away feeling like it just performed oral sex on a cracked out, herpes-infested, chlamydia-spreading, needle-sharing transvestite whore.
This wasn’t an example of having expectations that couldn’t be matched. I can manage my expectations when it comes to food, especially the greasy kind.
No, this was an example of pure dupery.
I felt like I had been the recipient of one of those Nigerian letter scams and somehow had fallen for it.
“Wake me up,” I thought. “I didn’t just do this.”
The cheesesteak at Al’s was so flavorless – even with onions – that I wondered if Al’s had ever spent a penny of profit on a single spice, including salt and pepper.
The fries, which should have been wonderful at a place like this, were more lacking in quality than Coworker #3’s work ethic. (More on her later in the week.)
The sign on the wall that explained whom to see in the restaurant if you wanted to establish a credit account with Al’s left me completely perplexed. Wanting to have credit at Al’s would be like wanting to have a one-night stand with Glenn Close after Fatal Attraction.
I guess the experience wasn’t completely bad.
I know that if I ever need to use a bathroom, Al’s is not the place to go. There is no public restroom. Tough luck if you actually like washing your hands.
There also isn’t a pawn shop nearby. I know this because as soon as we left Al’s, I felt so depressed that I wanted to buy a gun and blow my brains out. Walking through the neighborhood will also leave you feeling that way.
As we returned to the office, many who knew about our plans asked us how our outing had gone.
“Awful,” I replied.
“Awful?” they’d ask.
“Awful,” I’d repeat.
“Really?” they’d retort, wondering how such a surefire thing could turn out to be anything but.
“Put it this way,” I said. “If my employer sent me to Tehran for a couple weeks and some of the nut-jobs over there took me hostage and started torturing me every day for three years, if you came to visit me and said, ‘Fool, I’ve got great news. The American government has arranged for your release, but only if you agree to eat one more meal at Al’s Steak House in Alexandria, Virginia. As long as you agree to do that, just one meal, you can come home for good.’”, I’d look at you and say, “I’ll take my chances in Iran, thank you.”
Different strokes for different folks, I guess.
I know Al’s is the land of milk and honey for some, (and the employees seemed like genuinely nice human beings). For me, however, I left feeling depressed, dejected, and duped.
If Al’s is the best the area has to offer, it’s going to be a long time before I have another cheesesteak.
I’ll stick to letting the Washington Post reviewer put Al’s meat in his mouth.
Posted by fool at 03:14 AM | Comments (13)December 14, 2006
Playing at a Theater Near You...
Blood Diamond
The Gist: Have you ever heard people say there’s a ton of violence in the diamond industry and wondered what the hell they were talking about? Well, this movie will provide you with an answer or three (and some very graphic, realistic violence). As civil war rampages Sierra Leone, rebel forces enslave citizens to mine for diamonds. (And those citizens are the lucky ones! Many others have limbs hacked off or life sucked out of them completely or innocence stolen through rapes, etc.) The rebels sell the diamonds to “legitimate” diamond companies (through straw organizations of course) and use the proceeds to finance their war.
What Would Have Made this Movie Better: It was a tad on the long side. I looked at my watch for the first time about an hour and forty minutes in and couldn’t believe how quickly the time had passed. I looked at my watch for the second time about two hours in and couldn’t believe how slowly those last twenty minutes had passed. Aside from that minor defect, this one is very good.
Who Should See This: If you like films that educate, this one is for you. Leonardo DiCaprio plays a diamond smuggler and proves once again why he is the most talented young actor in Hollywood these days. So if you like him even a little, you need to see this. Jennifer Connelly looks amazing (as usual) and delivers a good performance, so if you like her, you should see this. (Much to my dismay, however, she did not have any love scenes.) Djimon Hounsou plays a Sierra Leone father who is enslaved by the rebels and who will do anything he can to be reunited with his family, which has been displaced by the thug rebel group. Hounsou delivers an amazing performance, so even if you’ve never heard of him, you’ll like him, trust me!
The Verdict: I was pleasantly surprised! This one should have done better at the box office. Much better. A-.
Bobby
The Gist: Well, well, well. The previews make this one look spectacular – we’re supposed to get an inside look at what happened the day Bobby Kennedy was assassinated. Unfortunately, that inside look features an examination of the lives of everyone that day except for Kennedy. What we’re left with are a bunch of somewhat interconnected storylines (only because by the end of the film everyone ends up at the hotel where Kennedy is shot) in which we see what people were doing the day Kennedy died. Two syllables: BOR-ING!
What Would Have Made this Movie Better: Actually showing us what Kennedy was doing that day would have been nice. The movie is titled “Bobby,” not “Everyone but Bobby.” I love historical stuff, especially contemporary American history, but this one is a total snoozer. I didn’t leave the theater knowing anything more about Kennedy than I did when I entered, and I admit, he’s not a person about whom I’m highly knowledgeable.
Who Should See This: The acting is all first-rate, but the story is just boring. So if you like seeing good performances, go take a look. If you want good performances and a good story, see something else, like Blood Diamond or The Departed or Lilo and Stitch.
The Verdict: D+.
Deja Vu
The Gist: In a terrorist attack, a ferry with numerous American servicemen blows up in New Orleans. Denzel Washington – who is always wonderful – is one of the law enforcement officials who arrives on the scene only to learn that something fishy is going on with the federal investigation. It turns out that brilliant federal scientists have figured out how to watch the past in the present – it’s basically like Tivo on speed, and I won’t even attempt to explain it. Eventually Denzel tries to transport himself into the past to save a young woman before she’s murdered because Denzel would very much like to explore her from the inside out, and I can’t say I fault him for that!
What Would Have Made this Movie Better: I’m about as scientifically inclined as Paris Hilton. But, even I knew the premise of what was going on in this movie was more unbelievable than a Harlem Globetrotters loss to the Washington Generals. With that stated, if you’re able to just overlook that major plot hole, this one is quite an interesting ride!
Who Should See This: Anyone who loves Halle Berry ought to take a look at the younger version of her. She’s named Paula Patton, and she’s going to be a star. Don’t see this if you want a really serious movie, but if you want a ride that doesn’t waste your time with too many car chases and too much action adventure nonsense, this one’s fun!
The Verdict: B+.
December 12, 2006
Maybe they Shouldn't wear Anything
Why is it such a big deal if two women attend the same social function wearing the same dress? Fifty men can wear the same suit to a ball and no one gives a crap. Yet the First Lady and three other women show up at a gala wearing the same red dress and the media make it sound so controversial that you'd expect to learn that all four women retired to the Lincoln bedroom to engage in a game of How many mouths can touch the President's pecker at the same time?!
I didn’t get why it was a big deal when Brenda and Kelly wanted to wear the same dress to the prom on Beverly Hills 90210, and I sure as hell don’t understand why it’s a big deal when a bunch of middle aged women with more money than the entire country of Ghana show up at a social function in outfits that each other clearly think are nice.
Posted by fool at 01:03 AM | Comments (3)December 11, 2006
Random Monday Musings
1. 1 vs. 100 could be one of the finest game shows in the history of game shows. And yes, I’ve seen almost all game shows at some point in my life, so I’m qualified to make that assertion, and yes, I realize that makes me a loser.
2. On Saturday, residents of New Orleans reelected U.S. Congressman William Jefferson in a runoff election, despite allegations that the FBI found $90,000 in bribe money in Jefferson’s freezer earlier this year. Remember that story? If not, in the words of Jack Walsh, “Don’t you read the papers?” Maybe Jefferson will hire Marion Barry to be his chief of staff when Congress returns to Washington next year. After all, they seem like soul mates. And maybe the residents of New Orleans shouldn’t receive any more federal money if this is the man they’ve chosen to represent them. Call me old-fashioned, but unless you’re planning to have a party with fifty hookers and a hundred lines of blow, there’s just no reason to have $90,000 in cash in your freezer. Seriously, in the words of Mr. Belding, “Hey, hey, hey! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?”
3. Speaking of Congressmen, do you think former Congressman and current resident co-chairman of special commissions Lee Hamilton has ever smiled? What about when his wife said she’d go out with him for the first time? I bet he at least smirked when that happened. Then again, maybe not. Lee seems tighter than a teenage boy in a Mark Foley fantasy.
4. While channel flipping over the weekend, I managed to stumble across the Real World Denver. The following words were uttered by a young woman on the show: “I look like a hypocrite. I look like a whore, and I look foolish.” Needless to say, I’m going to start watching this one! Hillary, if you haven’t chosen a campaign slogan, this one might help you loosen up your image a bit.
5. Finally, later in the week, I’ll review Bobby, Blood Diamond, and Deja Vu. One is awful. One is awesome. And one is enjoyable. Can you guess which is which?
Posted by fool at 12:34 AM | Comments (7)December 04, 2006
I Guess it's Possible She Really Doesn't Know She's Supposed to Send One
About a year ago, Sister Fool, Mama Fool, and I attended a family friend’s wedding. Prior to the wedding, Mama Fool was invited to and attended two showers. One required bringing a gift. The other required writing a heartfelt poem for a scrapbook which was given to the bride-to-be at the shower.
Nearly a year has passed since the bride got married, and she has yet to write a single thank you note to anyone in my family. No thank you note to me for flying across the country during an incredibly busy travel time in order to attend her wedding. More importantly, no thank you note to Mama Fool for the two gifts she gave (shower #1 and the wedding gift from my family) or for the poem she wrote (shower #2).
I’m certain the new bride is incredibly busy. She married a man who has full custody over his two non-adult daughters, so she’s had to be a full-time mom from the first day of her marriage. However, wouldn’t you think that sometime between preparing bowls of cereal, reading bedtime stories, screwing her husband, and taking the kids to school, the bride would have found time to write some simple thank you notes to the people who deserve them, in particular to Mama Fool?
George Herbert Walker Bush, the first President Bush, has often said that he never would have been elected president had he not learned the importance of writing thank you notes. Not only are they easy to write, people really seem to appreciate receiving them. If nothing else, they demonstrate an element of class. Plus, etiquette experts say you have up to three months to write them after receiving a wedding gift. Not exactly an impossible deadline if you ask me.
So, what to do at this point?
I’m tempted to send the bride a package of blank cards as a one-year anniversary gift with a short note. “Hope the first year of your marriage has gone wonderfully. Please use one of these cards to write my mom a thank you note for all of the stuff she did regarding your wedding. Your original note must have gotten lost in the mail. Happy Anniversary, Fool.”
Maybe a coupon for a free lap-dance at a male strip club would be more appropriate. But even then, I’d be worried that she wouldn’t realize she’s supposed to tip the dancer.
Posted by fool at 12:00 AM | Comments (9)