http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2-GGJ62DlmU&feature=related
ck
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
10-27/PHL blues
We talked about this over the weekend.
http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2009/10/27/david-spade-chris-farley-family-defend-new-directv-ad/
ck
http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2009/10/27/david-spade-chris-farley-family-defend-new-directv-ad/
ck
Thursday, October 22, 2009
10-23/Halloween Horrows
It's official. Magnum P.I. Guess who is going to be who.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lrk9wsQtUgc
Still in Philadelphia. Backed up on some articles for you all.
Trick or treat.
ck
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lrk9wsQtUgc
Still in Philadelphia. Backed up on some articles for you all.
Trick or treat.
ck
Friday, October 16, 2009
10-16/The Pizza Man Lives!
http://cornerbar-cwk.blogspot.com/2008/10/pizza-man.html
On a cold and rainy Friday afternoon, my colleague and I walked through the FAA Cafe as we normally did every day at lunch. Today there was no umpf, no zest, and no special. We decided we'd hike across the street to try the pizza place.
Situated in a strip mall that catered to most of JFK's workers, the pizza place shared its inhabitance with a Check cashing place, Chinese take-out, and a deli that seemed to take most of the lunch crowd.
Excited to always try a new slice of pizza, we sat down at a table and had at it. I briefly took notice of someone saying, "onions," at the counter, but continued on my merry way talking to Dan about Atlantic City.
This onion gentleman now appeared at the table diagonal from us, and he settled in with a tuna sandwich on a roll, and a bottle of water. He wore a very nice suit, with a fancy tie that was so close to his top button, it almost was attached to his Adam's apple. Probably around 50, he wore designer framed glasses, and had a shaved head.
He dined alone, and obviously had something on his mind. Almost as if he was blind he stared towards the window for a bit and then searched for his bottle of water. Unsuccessful for a few moments, he snapped out of his trance and turned his head toward the .5 liter of Poland Spring and grabbed it.
Next he arranged his sandwich by ensuring that it was broken in half by completely separating the pieces and placing them neatly on the plate. He slightly opened his mouth doing so, as if his hands were of a lovers,' teasing him gently with edible sensuality.
Then the moment arrived.
He grabbed the left half with his left hand. Soon after his right hand joined in the heavy lifting. Contorting the sandwich around to protect gravity from stealing any morsel of the the minced fish, his mouth opened wide causing him to squint through his rectangular lenses. Then the trance began.
The eyes released from the squint and opened again towards the window. He chewed as if he was reciting a prayer, and then swallowed with a wince as if it was a annoying distraction. But before he could sulk that he no longer had food, he jammed another mouthful of the remaining half - his eyes and mouth now wide looking like the bite even took him by surprise. He completed the bite by shaking his head back and forth like a crocodile killing its prey.
After completing his chew, his eyes remained fixed on the window. He grabbed the water, this time remembering where it exactly was so he could continuing staring, unblinking, at what appeared to be a cartoon pizza man affixed to the window flipping a pie. His head tilted backwards to accommodate the cold bottled water, eyes remaining level at the pizza man.
I started laughing and Dan asked me why. I said I would tell him later, and we left.
ck
On a cold and rainy Friday afternoon, my colleague and I walked through the FAA Cafe as we normally did every day at lunch. Today there was no umpf, no zest, and no special. We decided we'd hike across the street to try the pizza place.
Situated in a strip mall that catered to most of JFK's workers, the pizza place shared its inhabitance with a Check cashing place, Chinese take-out, and a deli that seemed to take most of the lunch crowd.
Excited to always try a new slice of pizza, we sat down at a table and had at it. I briefly took notice of someone saying, "onions," at the counter, but continued on my merry way talking to Dan about Atlantic City.
This onion gentleman now appeared at the table diagonal from us, and he settled in with a tuna sandwich on a roll, and a bottle of water. He wore a very nice suit, with a fancy tie that was so close to his top button, it almost was attached to his Adam's apple. Probably around 50, he wore designer framed glasses, and had a shaved head.
He dined alone, and obviously had something on his mind. Almost as if he was blind he stared towards the window for a bit and then searched for his bottle of water. Unsuccessful for a few moments, he snapped out of his trance and turned his head toward the .5 liter of Poland Spring and grabbed it.
Next he arranged his sandwich by ensuring that it was broken in half by completely separating the pieces and placing them neatly on the plate. He slightly opened his mouth doing so, as if his hands were of a lovers,' teasing him gently with edible sensuality.
Then the moment arrived.
He grabbed the left half with his left hand. Soon after his right hand joined in the heavy lifting. Contorting the sandwich around to protect gravity from stealing any morsel of the the minced fish, his mouth opened wide causing him to squint through his rectangular lenses. Then the trance began.
The eyes released from the squint and opened again towards the window. He chewed as if he was reciting a prayer, and then swallowed with a wince as if it was a annoying distraction. But before he could sulk that he no longer had food, he jammed another mouthful of the remaining half - his eyes and mouth now wide looking like the bite even took him by surprise. He completed the bite by shaking his head back and forth like a crocodile killing its prey.
After completing his chew, his eyes remained fixed on the window. He grabbed the water, this time remembering where it exactly was so he could continuing staring, unblinking, at what appeared to be a cartoon pizza man affixed to the window flipping a pie. His head tilted backwards to accommodate the cold bottled water, eyes remaining level at the pizza man.
I started laughing and Dan asked me why. I said I would tell him later, and we left.
ck
10-16/Fall Email Cleaning
My email has been cluttered, and I decided to clean it out. Along with stomach-aching pictures, I found a possible prologue to my book that I had started ( and still only 3 chapters in ) - yes this is also the screenplay, hopefully to be narrated by Morgan Freeman.
Have fun making fun.
--------------------------
Legend, myth, or religion, has us to believe that in the beginning, it was Adam and Eve. One day, the same day as luck would have it, they both discovered there was something weird underneath these leaves attached to their bodies. Get it on.
From there on, man was with woman. Woman was with man. Then someone figured out a way for man to be with man, and after some contorting, woman was with woman. Then one day a cow moo-ed, and some weirdo was with animal. Then woman was with machine, then man was with door frame. Not sure how much emotion was included, but certainly there was some amount of pain, mixed with pleasure.
No matter how you slice it, since the dawn of time, our bodies were meant to interact with others. I think the higher powers envisioned it to be with other humans, but hey, everyone gets lonely. While there are many integral parts to the body that keeps us living, it appears that the heart and mind work together night and day. Sometimes they work for you, and you pay them well, and then sometimes they fuck you over.
If you pay them well, and keep tequila away from them, they come to work on time, always have nice ironed shirts, and for the most part work through lunch. If you ever let them hit a karaoke bar together, they’ll be shitfaced by 8pm, and singing “Love stinks” until the regulars brow beat them out the door. Then they’ll hit an Irish bar and drink whiskey until the morning when they are supposed to be at work.
All of a sudden, you have a broken heart, and your mind has no idea how to fix it.
With this power to make or break you, they are the most powerful tandem since the Captain and Tenile. It’s always best to keep them happy, and sober, reporting to work on time.
The heart, an amazing part of machinery, is made of valves and chambers, that pump blood to all parts of your body. Not only can it feel pain physically, but its life is personified by the hurt of emotional pain. As the mind analyzes mental pain, it calls the heart on its lunch break and tells it all the stuff that’s going on.
These two are inseparable, and they WILL make or break you.
ck
Have fun making fun.
--------------------------
Legend, myth, or religion, has us to believe that in the beginning, it was Adam and Eve. One day, the same day as luck would have it, they both discovered there was something weird underneath these leaves attached to their bodies. Get it on.
From there on, man was with woman. Woman was with man. Then someone figured out a way for man to be with man, and after some contorting, woman was with woman. Then one day a cow moo-ed, and some weirdo was with animal. Then woman was with machine, then man was with door frame. Not sure how much emotion was included, but certainly there was some amount of pain, mixed with pleasure.
No matter how you slice it, since the dawn of time, our bodies were meant to interact with others. I think the higher powers envisioned it to be with other humans, but hey, everyone gets lonely. While there are many integral parts to the body that keeps us living, it appears that the heart and mind work together night and day. Sometimes they work for you, and you pay them well, and then sometimes they fuck you over.
If you pay them well, and keep tequila away from them, they come to work on time, always have nice ironed shirts, and for the most part work through lunch. If you ever let them hit a karaoke bar together, they’ll be shitfaced by 8pm, and singing “Love stinks” until the regulars brow beat them out the door. Then they’ll hit an Irish bar and drink whiskey until the morning when they are supposed to be at work.
All of a sudden, you have a broken heart, and your mind has no idea how to fix it.
With this power to make or break you, they are the most powerful tandem since the Captain and Tenile. It’s always best to keep them happy, and sober, reporting to work on time.
The heart, an amazing part of machinery, is made of valves and chambers, that pump blood to all parts of your body. Not only can it feel pain physically, but its life is personified by the hurt of emotional pain. As the mind analyzes mental pain, it calls the heart on its lunch break and tells it all the stuff that’s going on.
These two are inseparable, and they WILL make or break you.
ck
Thursday, October 15, 2009
10-15/HorseSh*t and HandCream
My past experiences of some of the greatest "bankers' hours" events has been limited to a drunken recap of a scenario that has just occurred.
Me ( usually at work ) : "hello"
whoever : "You gotta see it, a whole bachelorette party"
Me : "what?"
who : "all of em, ( putting phone away from mouth ) nobodies ( yelling in their direction )
Me : " where..?"
who : " I was just having cappuccinos with Pete Sampras, he had to leave to meet up with Brady Quinn and they are going squirrel hunting. Then all these putans marched in. "
Finally I am a part of these festivities, as now I can attend anything that you all can attend with my "bankers' hours."
This Saturday October 17, Far Hills will be hosting their annual Steeplechase Championship, otherwise known as, "The Hunt." The "classy" tailgate, as I always imagined it, involves a class conflict all drinking together to celebrate horsies.
I remember a few years back Paps mentioning "the Hunt." The first couple of times he said it, I didn't register what exactly this was. Between me thinking about what I would order for lunch and zoning out at work, I thought he was talking about a not very nice female, otherwise referring to her as "That **NT." Really he was talking up, "The Hunt."
This year, as I'll proudly mention again, I have weekends off finally and have been invited to this year's Hunt. Never having been there before, I thought about last year and how I got a play by play, inspiring me to write http://cornerbar-cwk.blogspot.com/2008/10/food-committee.html, as a review of 2008's event.
Here's what I can remember.....
Phone call # 1 - 1 hour into it.
" I tell you what. There are lots of fine broads here. This is where you want to be."
Phone call # 2 - 3 hours into it.
" If you want to find a nice girl, this is it. Class................Class. Probably nice families, catholic......this one, look at this one. Probably went to Vandy..."
Phone call # 3 - 5 hours into it.
EXTREMELY LOUD
"You gotta see these spreads. Brisket. Wine. CLASS baby, CLASS. UUU--FA! Como se dice! This one just walked by in a sundress. It's 50 degrees out. CLASS baby. "
I'm not sure exactly how this year will pan out. Rain for four days should make the ground nice and muddy. My bow tie may not make it out, but seeing Fabe in mock wellington boots might just make up for it.
ck
Me ( usually at work ) : "hello"
whoever : "You gotta see it, a whole bachelorette party"
Me : "what?"
who : "all of em, ( putting phone away from mouth ) nobodies ( yelling in their direction )
Me : " where..?"
who : " I was just having cappuccinos with Pete Sampras, he had to leave to meet up with Brady Quinn and they are going squirrel hunting. Then all these putans marched in. "
Finally I am a part of these festivities, as now I can attend anything that you all can attend with my "bankers' hours."
This Saturday October 17, Far Hills will be hosting their annual Steeplechase Championship, otherwise known as, "The Hunt." The "classy" tailgate, as I always imagined it, involves a class conflict all drinking together to celebrate horsies.
I remember a few years back Paps mentioning "the Hunt." The first couple of times he said it, I didn't register what exactly this was. Between me thinking about what I would order for lunch and zoning out at work, I thought he was talking about a not very nice female, otherwise referring to her as "That **NT." Really he was talking up, "The Hunt."
This year, as I'll proudly mention again, I have weekends off finally and have been invited to this year's Hunt. Never having been there before, I thought about last year and how I got a play by play, inspiring me to write http://cornerbar-cwk.blogspot.com/2008/10/food-committee.html, as a review of 2008's event.
Here's what I can remember.....
Phone call # 1 - 1 hour into it.
" I tell you what. There are lots of fine broads here. This is where you want to be."
Phone call # 2 - 3 hours into it.
" If you want to find a nice girl, this is it. Class................Class. Probably nice families, catholic......this one, look at this one. Probably went to Vandy..."
Phone call # 3 - 5 hours into it.
EXTREMELY LOUD
"You gotta see these spreads. Brisket. Wine. CLASS baby, CLASS. UUU--FA! Como se dice! This one just walked by in a sundress. It's 50 degrees out. CLASS baby. "
I'm not sure exactly how this year will pan out. Rain for four days should make the ground nice and muddy. My bow tie may not make it out, but seeing Fabe in mock wellington boots might just make up for it.
ck
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