The San Francisco Zoo's popular gay penguins, Harry and Pepper, have "split up" after some penguin ho-bag named Linda came in and convinced Harry to switch teams. What's more, Pepper then became angry and violent.
Yet another story that you just couldn't even make up.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Gail Collins on Sarah Palin
Sometimes, when I think I'm going to write about something on this dwindling site, I happen to read New York Times columnist Gail Collins' take on it first, and I realize that I cannot possibly top that. This is one of those times.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
All Michael Jackson, All the Time
This was taken at the marcipan museum in Szentendre, Hungary, 2 years ago. Incidentally, I arrived in Hungary yesterday and am having a great time seeing the city again and spending time with my old friends. 
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Romance in France (and Other Misadventures)
I think that many people harbor grand fantasies of France, but our first day wasn't exactly a banner day for us here, short of one major plus, dinner with wonderful Ivory Coast native "Mama Africa" at her restaurant. (We returned the next night for more mafe and chicken, onions, and rice, and so that Garret could get another much-anticipated kiss on the cheek.)
We arrived in Marseille Tuesday evening after a very long day of travel, and had many misdventures since crossing the Monaco-France border. Right off the start, about ten minutes into the country, the four of us spread out in two train seats apiece, since the car wasn't crowded. My seats had another two facing me, and the guys were all behind me. Soon, a man wearing an Italian soccer jacket came and sat across from me and asked, "English?" I nodded, and he shrugged and replied, "French."
A minute or two passed as I was reading a book, when suddenly he looked at me and announced, "You...are...fantastic!" I smiled politely and was returning to my book, when suddenly, he appeared right in front of my face, aiming for a kiss! In the time allowed, I could think of no better line of defense than to simply shove my copy of The Time Traveler's Wife between us, praying in that brief moment, God, don't let this strange man's potentially herpes-infected lips touch my fingers or my book. (They narrowly missed.)
My three male traveling companions sat behind me, somewhat obliviously, so I called out, "umm... male travel companions?" At this they all sprang--belatedly but heroically--to their feet, leaving my would-be suitor to point at all of them, then me, in turn and then declare, finger pointed at my face, "You...are...stupid!" and storm out of the car.
We then watched him sit down next to another blonde in the next car, implementing what were probably similar tactics, until rejection came calling again mere moments later.
I was accompanied at all times by a "male travel companion" for the rest of the journey, which was wise since that particular train appeared to be full of carnie-types. Garret has since repeatedly told me how proud he was that I didn't cry, knowing my propensity to do so in unusual situations.
If that wasn't enough of a day for us, we had another incident on the way to dinner. Kevin was walking at the back of our group on the way to Mama Africa's, and came in the restaurant fighting mad, telling us that someone had tried to lift his wallet just outside the door. He caught them at the last moment, jerked away, and caused the pickpocketer to run away. He's been checking his pockets obsessively ever since.
On our way home that night, we had one last special moment, but this one good for a needed laugh: the bursting open of a bungee-corded cooler on the back of a delivery boy's Vespa, the spillage of several pizza boxes onto the street, the subsequent scooping up and repackaging of the boxes that came open, and finally, the driver speeding off, presumably to his originally intended destination since he did not turn around.
So, in review: carry a large book at all times, keep your wallet in the front pocket, and don't order pizza in France.
We arrived in Marseille Tuesday evening after a very long day of travel, and had many misdventures since crossing the Monaco-France border. Right off the start, about ten minutes into the country, the four of us spread out in two train seats apiece, since the car wasn't crowded. My seats had another two facing me, and the guys were all behind me. Soon, a man wearing an Italian soccer jacket came and sat across from me and asked, "English?" I nodded, and he shrugged and replied, "French."
A minute or two passed as I was reading a book, when suddenly he looked at me and announced, "You...are...fantastic!" I smiled politely and was returning to my book, when suddenly, he appeared right in front of my face, aiming for a kiss! In the time allowed, I could think of no better line of defense than to simply shove my copy of The Time Traveler's Wife between us, praying in that brief moment, God, don't let this strange man's potentially herpes-infected lips touch my fingers or my book. (They narrowly missed.)
My three male traveling companions sat behind me, somewhat obliviously, so I called out, "umm... male travel companions?" At this they all sprang--belatedly but heroically--to their feet, leaving my would-be suitor to point at all of them, then me, in turn and then declare, finger pointed at my face, "You...are...stupid!" and storm out of the car.
We then watched him sit down next to another blonde in the next car, implementing what were probably similar tactics, until rejection came calling again mere moments later.
I was accompanied at all times by a "male travel companion" for the rest of the journey, which was wise since that particular train appeared to be full of carnie-types. Garret has since repeatedly told me how proud he was that I didn't cry, knowing my propensity to do so in unusual situations.
If that wasn't enough of a day for us, we had another incident on the way to dinner. Kevin was walking at the back of our group on the way to Mama Africa's, and came in the restaurant fighting mad, telling us that someone had tried to lift his wallet just outside the door. He caught them at the last moment, jerked away, and caused the pickpocketer to run away. He's been checking his pockets obsessively ever since.
On our way home that night, we had one last special moment, but this one good for a needed laugh: the bursting open of a bungee-corded cooler on the back of a delivery boy's Vespa, the spillage of several pizza boxes onto the street, the subsequent scooping up and repackaging of the boxes that came open, and finally, the driver speeding off, presumably to his originally intended destination since he did not turn around.
So, in review: carry a large book at all times, keep your wallet in the front pocket, and don't order pizza in France.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Trip Update: London & Salzburg
If you didn't know, I am on a trip through western and central Europe right now with my friends Kevin, Garret, and Benedikt. The first pictures are posted on my Flickr page (albums London 2009 and Salzburg 2009). We'll be leaving for Venice tomorrow, so more to come soon!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Film School, Vol. 6: Ricky Gervais: Out of England
This is a stand-up special, not a movie, shot at Madison Square Garden in 2008. Not surprisingly, it's the best stand-up routine that I have ever seen. It's not for the easily offended, as he jokes about cancer, Nazis, nursery rhymes, and obesity. But that is what makes it great!
If you've ever seen Extras (which you should have, because it was a previous Film School entry) or BBC's The Office, I don't have to sell you on this.
If you've ever seen Extras (which you should have, because it was a previous Film School entry) or BBC's The Office, I don't have to sell you on this.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
That's an "I Can Never Wear Shorts Again" Kind of Mistake. (And Yet He Wore Shorts Again.)
Here's what Ashley and I saw tattooed--sideways, and in pseudo-Asian letters--on a man's leg at The Filling Station restaurant in Navasota, Texas, today:
You look realy silly.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
The Saddest Story Ever Told
Friday
3:15 p.m.
I wonder if it will rain tomorrow. Looking pretty gray outside right now.
9:00 p.m.
Weather.com says thunderstorms starting at noon on Saturday, which, incidentally, is precisely when the boat race will start. Hmm.
Saturday
7:00 a.m.
Now the storms are forecast for 1:00. Maybe we can make it...
8:30 a.m.
The hour-by-hour report says 2:00 now! Things are looking up.
9:30 a.m.
Torrential rains begin. To make things worse, my car appears to be leaking oil, and I have to go to the Toyota dealership before I drive anywhere else.
10:30 a.m.
I'm at the dealership now, and it will be an hour before my car is ready! So now I'm the person sitting in the showroom with two orange life jackets while I wait for my teammate Stephanie K. to pick me up. I was embarrassed to bring the four paddles in, so I left them leaning against the building outside, in the rain. They do have a Starbucks in the waiting room, and they offer me a free coffee while I wait, which is nice since I'm already wet and cold.
10:35 a.m.
Thunder and lightning commence. The race is still officially on, though.
11:00 a.m.
Stephanie calls to say she's just down the street. At the same time, the service rep tells me the car's ready. I pick up the paddles from their hiding place and put them and the life jackets back in my car, having gotten them out for nothing.
11:15 a.m.
Just as I'm pulling up to Old Settler's Park, teammate Megan calls me. Race is finally called off. I drive by just in time to see our clownfish boat's bent, soggy tail hanging out of teammate Stephanie I.'s vehicle. In the event of a rescheduled race, amputation will be necessary.
12:00 p.m.
Enchiladas and margaritas with team. Happy ending after all!
3:15 p.m.
I wonder if it will rain tomorrow. Looking pretty gray outside right now.
9:00 p.m.
Weather.com says thunderstorms starting at noon on Saturday, which, incidentally, is precisely when the boat race will start. Hmm.
Saturday
7:00 a.m.
Now the storms are forecast for 1:00. Maybe we can make it...
8:30 a.m.
The hour-by-hour report says 2:00 now! Things are looking up.
9:30 a.m.
Torrential rains begin. To make things worse, my car appears to be leaking oil, and I have to go to the Toyota dealership before I drive anywhere else.
10:30 a.m.
I'm at the dealership now, and it will be an hour before my car is ready! So now I'm the person sitting in the showroom with two orange life jackets while I wait for my teammate Stephanie K. to pick me up. I was embarrassed to bring the four paddles in, so I left them leaning against the building outside, in the rain. They do have a Starbucks in the waiting room, and they offer me a free coffee while I wait, which is nice since I'm already wet and cold.
10:35 a.m.
Thunder and lightning commence. The race is still officially on, though.
11:00 a.m.
Stephanie calls to say she's just down the street. At the same time, the service rep tells me the car's ready. I pick up the paddles from their hiding place and put them and the life jackets back in my car, having gotten them out for nothing.
11:15 a.m.
Just as I'm pulling up to Old Settler's Park, teammate Megan calls me. Race is finally called off. I drive by just in time to see our clownfish boat's bent, soggy tail hanging out of teammate Stephanie I.'s vehicle. In the event of a rescheduled race, amputation will be necessary.
12:00 p.m.
Enchiladas and margaritas with team. Happy ending after all!
Friday, May 15, 2009
Round Rock Boat Regatta
Tomorrow's the big day! Or supposed to be--right now the forecast is thunderstorms starting at noon, which happens to be exactly when the race is. My team and I, known this year as the Insane Clownfish Posse™, have held a much milder interest this year, it's true, but at this point, we built the stupid boat and now we want to compete with it. So we'll be pretty upset if it's all for naught.
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