Bacon courtesy of Arthur.
16 oz of bacon fat.
Finished product.
For All of the Lebowski Lovers Out There...
I have the pleasure of looking at this fine specimen of street art as I impatiently wait for one of the many subpar, overcrowded, smelly Mission buses to carry me from Bernal to BART each morning. Believe it or not, it provides some solace.
Law School: The Upside
1. My nails are growing really fast.
2. My vocabulary once again consists of practically uselss Latin terms I learned in high school and promptly forgot.
4. ...ummm...hmmm...yeah, that's all I got.
Sabs' Got Talent
Last night I went karaokoeing with a few people, including Sabs. Sabs is no stranger to karaoke. I first got a taste of her skills during a holiday party last year, where she say the Banana Boat Song. You know, the one that goes Day Oh! Me say daaaayy oh. daylight comin me 'wan go home. Needless to say, it was inspirational.
Anyway, last night we went to The Mint to get our inner diva on. Sadly, it was overrun by a bunch of MoFos (lawyers who work at this place called Morrison & Foerster. They call themselves MoFos. Isn't that so...thought provoking?). They have their annual summer associate party at The Mint and drop hella money. Needless to say, the karaoke nazi pays attention to nobody's karaoke needs but theirs. While Sabs and I did get in 1 rendition of Proud Mary (hat tip to LL for asking the MoFos to let us in on the fun), the urge to karaoke could not be satisfied due to the 45 minute wait.
So, serendipitously, we found ourselves at Martuni's, that piano lounge on Market where people do their thang accompanied by a mousy, middle-aged woman on a (baby?) grand piano. It wasn't long before Sabs morphed into a sultry, sexy, oh so sad and lonely Bessie Smith. Serendipitous indeed.
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The Palo Alto Creamery Has an Identity Crisis
This past weekend I went to the PA Creamery for some fries, a grilled cheese w/bacon and tomato and a black and white milkshake. I had a great time. That is, until I saw the final item listed for sale on the menu, aptly called The Bubbly Burger:
Only in a place like Palo Alto, which had a McCafe (that McDonalds place that wanted to be a less nice version of Starbucks but still scare away the working-class Dunkin' Donuts crowd) would you be able to buy a burger at an otherwise fairly bonafide diner that comes with Dom Perignon. Without, I should add, a hint of irony. If that doesn't make you saw WTF, I don't know what will. Why yes, I will take my ground chuck with a side of smug.
Bow Ties
According to Politico's Playbook, bow ties are "in." I have always (secretly) loved men who wear bow ties, but only when they're ironic.
When people where bow ties in all seriousness, all I can think of is Tucker Carlson, who, on a douchery scale of 1-5 is a definite 6. And that makes me want to slap said bow tie wearer like any good, effete liberal would: with the back of my hand, while contemporaneously sipping a locally sourced, sustainably grown, homemade latte with steamed soy milk in my German-made station wagon/Prius on my way home from the farmer's market, where I just bought some arugula.
Our Shameful Food Past
Crown Jewel Dessert (aka Broken Window Glass Cake)
Vegetable Salad
On the tiered tray we have avocado cream cheese thing on top and ham and grape pick-ups on the bottom, while on the table you'll find a chili cheese log. Shudder.
See more horrifying food here.
I'm on a Boat
I saw this several weeks ago. It's still funny.
Since I'm testing a video thing for OnSugar, I thought I'd take the opportunity to share it:
Current TV on Twitter
I'm so glad that somebody has finally memorialized the suckiness of Twitter and the Twits who Tweet:
While I am sure/hope you've inferred this already, I should point out that I'm not on Twitter. I think it's the ugly step child of social networking, a phenomenon that I participate in and can appreciate.
Forget the fact that even John McCain, who can barely use a computer, is a regular twit (the internets are for old fogeys too). What really gets me is that so many people (not just tweens and teens who think it's okay to put up embarrassing pictures of themselves on Facebook because they don't understand that the world wide web is called the WORLD WIDE web for a reason) feel the need to constantly overshare. I don't care about the minutia of your life. I doubt you care that I'm currently sitting on my bed with an exfoliating clay mask on my face breathing in the relaxing scent of eucalyptus as I bang angrily on my keyboard about hating Twitter, so I spare you the annoyance.
I mean, really, who cares? Nobody. So please, keep your mindless, boring afterthoughts to yourself and get some friends. The real, in-person kind, not the computer kind. Friends who care. Or, alternatively, keep a diary. Or a blog that your friends rarely read, like I do. Don't bombard them with status updates about your largely routine life. Is nothing sacred?
Tourist Club(bing)
Despite what this photo may imply, there was quite a bit of hiking beforehand.
