Blogsphemy

In a video interview on Costas Now (a TV show I didn't know existed), Pulitzer Prize-winning author Buzz Bissinger (who I'd actually never heard of) gives his opinion about bloggers. The first ten minutes are here and I'd love to see the rest. Credit goes to Eamonn Brennan courtesy of Yahoo! Sports. Sure Bissinger is mainly discussing sports bloggers, but he claims not to read blogs and seems to have a great disdain for the medium of blogging in general and Brennan sums up pretty well what makes Bissinger's irate state ridiculous. Man does he get irate though, and it's pretty sweet.

Speaking of sweet, these cakes look like a decent reason to move to Davis, California. Who doesn't like ice cream cake? Plus, it's sunny California, it's one of the most bikable cities in the US, and it's got this tight arboretum. Why don't I live in Davis?

Initially I started this post in the interest of proving myself correct regarding a certain matter. Years ago I had been mentioning to someone how I used to wear Izod clothing, and that it was an offshoot of Lacoste. They told me I was quite clearly wrong and, while I am often mistrusting of my own memory, Wikipedia once again saves the day. Now that I think of it, this dispute may have been in the last year and in regard to the Izod Center, home of the New Jersey Nets. I actually didn't need Wikipedia for this one as I uncovered this article of clothing in the basement of my parents' home.

I wore that shit all the time when I was a real littler kid and damnit all I'd still be wearing it if I hadn't gone and growed up so much.

I'm fading fast in this post-midnight hour, but before I go I need to get this British skit out of my system and, also, the Salmon Dance. The Salmon Dance I credit to good pal the Boneyard and while it may not do it for you, it makes me want to get up off my gimpy ass and dance. Every party or bar I show up at, once I am fully operational that is, I want people to be doing the Salmon Dance. If Soulja Boy can do it, why not the Chemical Brothers?

Last thing: As I was just on the ticketmaster website, searching for tickets to an event, I was brought to one of those Captcha screens. I couldn't help but note the option for the vision impaired where, if you click the appropriate link, the Captcha will be read out to you. I think you can see where I'm headed with this but, just in case: if you can see the link that provides audio assistance, why would you need to click it? In other words: you can't be blind to see the link, but you have to be blind to in order to have any use for the link. Seems like a regular old Catch-22 to me.

High-atus

It has been some days since I jotted anything down here, perhaps a fortnight, and it's good to be back. It's strange that many bloggers, and obviously I am including myself here, feel compelled to address their lapses in posting. I suppose it perpetuates the illusion of readership.

Last night as I headed out on a run I shouldn't have been on I encountered a familiar scent. At first I thought it was a skunk, but the smell was awfully isolated and the smiling faces I saw in a car brought back a few memories. "Wait a minute," I thought, "I used to be hip, I used to be cool." I actually wasn't thinking that at all, because the moment you start thinking you're cool you become instantly not. But we all know what mary j. smells like (which I had hoped to call Watson, extrapolating from Spiderman, which I thought was clever but never took off. This is like being cool. The moment you think you're being clever, you probably aren't). Mostly it made me happy to witness the simple joys of the hotbox, an especially daring move in Highland Park, where the cops are well-known for being quite meddlesome.

Last night I also figured out why I thought a guy coming out of McDonald's last week looked like a spokesperson for the brand doing his best Ronald McDonald impersonation, he worked for DHL. You can get a pretty good idea of the jacket and winter hat from the polo shirt and baseball cap being worn in that photo, but it still can't compete with UPS apparently. Really though, did DHL change there color scheme recently because they always came to my house growing up to pick up manuscripts and I swear they were dressed normal, and not ridiculous.

A final shout-out for the moment goes out to Cookie-pus, perhaps the worst-named children's dessert item in the history of man. Still, he makes one hell of an ice cream cake because they ingeniously incorporate a hint of mint ice cream in the nose region. I found this both unexpected and delicious as I managed to consume about a half or more of one of these at work the other day. I'm banking on the cake I ordered from Thomas Sweet last night to beat the pants off Carvel's offering, but I could be wrong, especially as I've yet to consume a Fudgy the Whale. Aw hell, I just like ice cream cake. And I'll be sure to pour some out for The Corner Confectionary, which met a sad demise this month. This place was an institution and Highland Park is much worse off without this bit of character.