Ah, Reminds Me Of Brooklyn Of Yore
Thanks Curbed for the pic and warning. This is on Van Brunt Street in Red Hook, one hood south of mine.
Moral of the story? If walking your bitch down this block, you'd best be curbing her cause he ain't playing.
PS - Note the flags.
For such a big city, NY's actually a small town where you're likely to run into the most unlikely people at the most unlikely places.
Take yesterday for example. I was enroute to Banana Republic on my lunch when halfway east on Houston between Hudson and Varick, I stop in my tracks to look into my downstairs neighbor's equally surprised eyes. He on his cell, me on mine, we couldn't really chat other than HEY! You work where? Me too!!! before laughing and strolling on.
Or take the countless times I've been on the F train only to run into a girl I used to play field hockey with in high school. Literally, we'd both be sitting across from one another or sit down next to one another or grab for the same pole and realize who it was.
Or how about the time I was sitting on a bench in Tompkins Square Park during Howlfest, chatting it up with the cutie I'd end up dating for a bit, when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the one love I'd had at that point since moving to NY standing not four feet to my left. (The love I hadn't seen in nearly two years since the returning of what was still left at one another's apartments. ) Within the minute it took to get over my shock and decide to say hello, he walked into the crowd and disappeared.
And yet, you can live blocks from someone and never know it. Case in point, at my ten year reunion last year I found out that a girl I was friendly with in high school lived within a ten minute walk from me in Brooklyn. Better example? I got a random friend request on MySpace. It was from a girl I hadn't seen since middle school. Turns out she also lived in Brooklyn and currently was working four blocks from me in Manhattan.
So, keep your eyes peeled, dear readers. You never know who'll be right around the next corner.
Suicide League Week Three: Holy Shit, That Was A Nail Biter!
The pit of my stomach was in knots by the end of the first quarter. Baltimore trailed the Browns the entire game. By 4Q, they'd rallied to within two points and gained possession at the two minute mark by intercepting a touchdown pass for a safety.
Mind you, I don't have an NFL pass (my Time Warner bill is high enough thank you), so I'm watching the Giants on my TV and the Baltimore/Cleveland game via www.nfl.com.
Fingers crossed and staring so hard at the sputtering-yet-'real time'-play by plays on my VAIO that my eyes are crossing, I watch as the Ravens slowly but surely gain yard by yard a drive that brings them within field goal range.
I hold my breath. The wait is unbearable. Both teams must be burning time outs. And....
I see the score box update. WE GOT THE FIELD GOAL! Thankyouthankyouthankyou.
Along with 46 other Ravens-Pickers, I've just squeaked my way into Week Four. Unfortunately, nearly 40 others (New England, AZ, Detroit & Buffalo) weren't so lucky. Our pool's now down to 217 from 295. Love of god, who do I pick this week?
Never Trust A Grown Man In Crocs
I grew up in The Hamptons. As most of my mother's side is still out that way, I make the schlep even during the off-season when the occasion warrants. As LIRR can't seem to get it together past Speonk, the Hampton Jitney busline is my transportation vehicle of choice.
For those virginal to the experience, riding the Jitney during the Summer is like you're back in 8th Grade all over again (just with better shoes). During the off-season, the commute is usually more civilized. Once you get through the midtown tunnel and everyone's settled, they pass out your drink, snack and paper before the first stop in Flushing Meadows. Then they collect your fare and it's smooth sailing until Manorville. Now I've seen all kinds of ego smackdowns, arguments over paying the $10 dog seat fee, celeb sitings, random reunions and your general run of the mill Type A antics on the countless times I've embarked on the two hour tour. Until yesterday, the summoning of the police department has not made the Jitney Drama list.
We'll call him...Dennis. Imagine Michael Moore wearing Dennis The Menace's usual blue and white striped tee and khakis. And beige Crocs. I was in the front half of the bus and deep into my NY Times and therefore wasn't aware of Dennis sitting in the back. As we pulled into Manorville for transfers, Dennis hijacked my life and that of everyone on our bus and the second Jitney waiting to whisk passengers off to the wannabe-Hampton destinations of Quogue, Hampton Bays and the like.
As half the bus emptied, I heard a commotion to the rear. Dennis was having words with the matronly African American bus attendant over the fare. I returned to my Metro Section.
Now there was yelling. By the other passengers. "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!!" "Oh my God!" "What are you doing?" Pulling a Linda Blair, I snapped around just in time to see the attendant give him a HARD shove.
The passengers in the back of the bus are all in a tizzy and I can't tell whether they're yelling at Dennis or the attendant. Spewing epithets all the while, Dennis slowly removed his hefty self and enormous duffel off the bus.
Someone yelled to the attendant to call the cops.
Like kids who'd just witnessed a school yard brawl, all the remaining passengers became gossip whores and word quickly spread that:
1. He was an asshole since embarking back in Manhattan.
2. He didn't want to pay.
3. He shoved HER first.
And now he was safely within the depths of the adjacent bus. This didn't sit well with two early 30something ladies and with a harrumph, they collected their Vuittons and made a beeline for our driver who was just about to close up the baggage storage in the basin of the bus. Like the rest of the passengers seated on the right side, I pressed my face to the window in anticipation of the drama about to unfold. Anger erupted on our 30ish African American Drivers face and he stormed back on the bus and yelled out "Marianne(?), You OK?" Then whipped out his phone which would remain affixed to his left ear for the next twenty minutes.
Now, the other driver, oblivious to anything that's gone on saunters over to see what the fuss is about. Marianne(?) goes outside to calm our driver down and explain the situation to Oblivious who now looks like he wished he was anywhere else.
Dennis disembarks the adjacent bus, making his triumphant return. A chorus of Oh Gods sounds all around our cabin. Dennis is flailing his arms and making grand gestures telling his side of the tale. The Vuittons are adding their two cents much to his dismay. Our angry bus driver is having none of Dennis and while still holding the cellphone to his left ear, is now waving Dennis out of his face with his right arm. The passenger behind me is laughing his ass off and I offer up that you just can't trust a grown man in Crocs. Dennis follows Marianne(?) back onto our bus and says don't call the cops, just leave me here, blah blah. Marianne(?), who I must say remained quite cool through the whole thing (return shove aside), wants nothing to do with him or the situation anymore. Dennis returns to the depths of his new bus.
A few 60something ladies go out for a smoke since it's clear that we're not going anywhere anytime soon. Dennis, apparently also in great need of a smoke, reemerges and drags on what looks to be a Bensen & Hedges 120 (seriously, would you have expected anything less?) in a more flamboyant manner than Philip Seymour Hoffman in Capote.
At this point, the crotchety old ladies in the front start a let's just leave him here and get back on the road movement. Much like The Wave at a football game, the rest of us pick it up. Ah, how quickly the tides can turn. Ten minutes later, our driver's still got the phone to his ear, Oblivious is just standing there, Marianne(?) is ignoring Dennis' over the top apologetic yet snarky overtures and Crotchety & Co. have the whole bus yelling "Let's Go!"
I'm still confused as to why the following happened: Dennis gets back on his bus. Marianne(?) gathers her belongings from our bus and proceeds to board Dennis' bus which Oblivious then rolls out of the parking lot. Our driver finally removes the cellphone from his ear and snarls at us before starting up the engine and finally getting us back on the road.
Pacified, Crotchety & Co. simmer down. The guy behind me is still laughing as he leans over to my seat and explains that the woman behind him is crying on her cell phone. In fact, three minute rule be damned, everyone's now on their cell/treo/crackberry to whoever's going to be there to pick them up.
After all that? We rolled into Southampton ten minutes early.
Favorite new "New Rule" by Bill Maher
New Rule: The next Democratic candidate for president must not wait until after the election to show us his balls. Al Gore didn't make the environment an issue while running for president. But now that his only job is walking his dog--he's all over it. And this week, John Kerry says he's now prepared to kick the asses of the Swift Boat vets who smeared him. A little late, John. Who's running your campaign? FEMA?
The Peacock Goes For The Jugular
The Post's Page 6 reports on the bloodbath that went down at the NBC studios yesterday after lunch. Fourteen staffers of the Access Hollywood show returned from lunch to find a cruel surprise awaiting them:
"It was really awful. Their ID cards wouldn't open the gate, and then a security guard came over and told them they were no longer employed there," one insider told Page Six. "Of course, the bosses waited until they'd finished producing the day's show before canning them."
To add insult to injury: "Access Hollywood" spokesman Joe Schlosser laughed when we asked him about the bloodbath, then got serious and said: "It has never been easy to make adjustments to the staff." He added the firings were part of a "restructuring of the show," then asked us not to report he had chuckled.
Rumor has it that across the board layoffs are about to go down at the peacock network and scores of staffers may be brown-bagging it in the near future.
Ticketwatch 2006: Post Season
Anyone who's been cruising craigslist or hoping to see one of the dozens of scalpers working outside Stan's in the Bronx had better come up with a better plan because the Yankees are cracking down.
The Post reports that "More than 100 season-tickets holders suspected of reselling their regular-season seats have gotten letters denying them the right to buy playoff tickets and barring them from buying season tickets for next year, the team said yesterday."
And where are these tickets now going to go? Why, the Yankees, of course. The team is in the process of setting up a StubHub center much like what the Mets, Nets and countless other teams already have in place. No word yet on if this means that we fans will have a better chance of scoring seats in the upcoming playoffs. Z's already registered with the team for the chance to buy tix:
"Fans who register during the Registration Period are eligible for consideration for the opportunity to purchase up to two (2) postseason tickets to one (1) game of the 2006 American League Division Series or 2006 American League Championship Series that may be played at the Stadium. Fans who register during the Registration Period are also eligible for consideration for the opportunity to purchase up to two (2) tickets to one (1) game of the World Series which may be played at the Stadium.Fans who register will be randomly chosen for the opportunity to purchase applicable postseason tickets (subject to availability) for potential Yankees' postseason games at the Stadium."
Alas, I think the better route is to shake off the ego and be a total media whore to all my sales reps who somehow always come up with good seats in the post season: Spa night, my ass! Give me four hours in the chilly October air up in the Bronx.
There's nothing like a wedding to remind you why you should no longer be romantically involved with your long-term-date.
Z presents the Top Ten Reasons To Celebrate Your Newly Found Singleton Status:
*As cliche as it may seem, there really is no better excuse to get an amazing cut at that uber-trendy salon.
*New lingerie. If you build it he will come.
*You can ogle male eye candy with fearless abandon and return the cutie on the F train's smile at will.
* Z's not one to cry into in quarts of Fat free Eddy'a praline pecan, but she is one to use this an opportunity to take daily walks home from the West Village to Brooklyn while listening to femme-rock. And seriously consider the boxing classes at the gym a block from work.
*Your fabulous gay friends have never seemed to be more perfect male specimens
*It's entirely justified to induce a marathon of all six seasons of Sex And The City from your DVD collection and overdose on chick flicks.
*Reuniting with Pat Benatar, Alanis Morisette, Janice Joplin and every angry estrogenfest in your itunes collection.
*Reclaiming your bottom right dresser drawer.
*Taking a hiatus from shaving.
*Knowing that this too will pass and Mr. Right could be right around the corner. (Maybe he'll even own a pug.)
Suicide Sunday: Week Three
The only safe bet in this most unsafe week is to continue the hate parade on Cleveland. Therefore, Z's confident that Baltimore is going to make mincemeat out of the beat up and beat upon Browns.
Cleveland take note:
*Many cultures have regarded the raven as an omen of death, pestilence and disease.
*Ravens consume carrion and will even prey upon sick and injured animals.
As If These Guys Needed More Money
FYI dear readers: Long rumored, now true. Starbucks is increasing their prices across the board and across the country. From your basic cup of java to your grande-soy-no-whip-mocha-frappawhatevs will increase $.05 and beans will go up $.50 per pound starting this October.
I don't know about you, but it's making me crave a little D&D. At least there I get munchkins. Yum, munchkins...
It's Must See TV Night
Before your guests gather for that Grey's Anatomy viewing party tonight, be sure to pre-game with Earl and The Office.
Jack's Trying To Bring Sexy Back
The Departed, Martin Scorcese's new mob epic, just got a little raunchy press.
From today's Page6: JACK Nicholson convinced Martin Scorsese to include a sex scene featuring himself, two hotties and a sex toy in "The Departed." The Oscar winner, who plays a homicidal mobster, tells Rolling Stone: "I thought it would be more frightening if my character had a sexual component . . . so I called Marty up and said, 'Look, I just thought of what would be an interesting scene of [my character] having wild sex. And in this scene with two girls, one of the girls is wearing a strap-on' . . . This was my idea and improvisational, and Marty went for it."
Marinate on that, dear readers.
Carroll Gardens: Going To The Animals
Now You See It, Now You Don't
HBO's announced what the rest of us knew all along: Lucky Louie was a piece of shit show. Z hopes its fans (all four of you) enjoyed the first season, because there will not be a second.
Hopefully, we'll enjoy the latest launches coming to "It's not TV. It's HBO." soon: the partially improvised series "Flight of the Conchords" and the female ensemble pilot "Whitney."
ps - I would have posted a pic, but blogger's sucking wind today.
It Was Only A Matter Of Time
First Dell, then Apple and now Toshiba. Once again, a computer company is recalling laptops with defective Sony batteries. This latest recall will affect 340,000 laptop worldwide.
Not to worry, these battery faults will not cause the devices to explode. Instead, much like bastard ipods, they'll simply run out of juice quicker than you can say "But I just charged it!"
Sony, Sony, Sony...what gives? Not only are your batteries crapping out or incinerating users, but after much ballyhoo, the PS3 will be delayed and your competition to the ipod also has to go back to the drawing board.
So long as my VAIO stays safe and functional, I'll keep quiet. But, you're making me nervous, Sony. Very, very nervous.
Get Your Drink On
Because what's more annoying than having to actually purchase a bottle of Captain and a couple of two liters of Coke, Diagio is proud to present ready-to-drink cocktails in 12oz cans.
Currently in testing, the six packs are selling out in stores across Tampa, FL. Current brands include: Captain Morgan and Cola, Smirnoff Vodka and Lemon-Lime Soda, George Dickel Whisky and Cola, and Seagram's 7 American Whiskey and Lemon-Lime Soda. A Crown Royal mix is coming soon.
Because their total alcohol content is equivalent to that of beer, these puppies will be sold alongside brewski competitors in gas stations, delis and the like.
Testing is expected to continue in the Sunshine State until late next Spring before a formal roll-out. Until then, you'll just have to get your captain fix the old fashioned way.
Pigs are flying and hell hath frozen over because for the first time since 1988, the Mets have won their division and are headed to the playoffs.
I kid the Mets and am very happy for their success. Congrats also to Manager Willie Randolf who, in just two short years, completely turned this team around. Some of that Torre magic must have rubbed off after all of Willie's years in the Bronx.
Now, if we can only get another long anticipated Subway World Series locked up...
Favorite New Rule By Bill Maher
One Of The More Interesting Political Ads Out There
Even if you're not a Connecticut resident, you've likely heard that Joe Lieberman, former VP candidate, lost in the recent Primary and has flipped to being an Independent in hopes of retaining his seat in the Senate.
A widely known fact is that Connecticut houses the dividing line between Red Sox Nation and Yankee fandom. Ned Lamont's latest campaign ad makes an interesting play of the idea. Kudo's to the campaign staff for making this interesting choice.
Suicide Sunday: Week Two
OK, dear readers, we're looking for Cincinnati to roll all over Cleveland this weekend. The spread is 10.5 points, so Z's fairly comfortable with her pick. Added value: Cincy fans will be all riled up in the home opener.
The Browns = catfood.
UPDATE: Z's a survivor. As expected, Cincy made the Browns their biotch. Now, for week three...
Green, Blue, Black and now Red?
Gwyneth Paltrow busted out the latest attention grabber in AMEX's portfolio at Prada yesterday. It's The Red Card. For each purchase, AMEX will donate 1% to fight AIDS in Africa via "Global Fund-financed programs in Africa which positively impact the lives of women and children affected by HIV/AIDS. "
Because, you know, Gwyneth IS Africa...
Deathwatch 2006: Ann Richards
For those that don't remember, Ann Richards was the ballsy, boisterous and bouffant laden Governor of Texas who replaced W after he headed to DC. She was spirited and took no shit. Today, we should take a moment to remember her with respect if only for her retort with regard to political rival George W Bush:
"Poor George, he can't help it...He was born with a silver foot in his mouth."
Project Runway Quote Of The Night
Dumpwatch 2006: The Browns
Perhaps she was listening to "The Greatest Love Of All" or maybe there are only so many times you can wait out a hubby's sentence, but Whitney Houston has finally kicked Bobby Brown to the curb and filed for divorce.
The fourteen year marriage survived drugs, jail and literally ended her once incredible career. Let's hope that she's clean and exercising those pipes to make a comeback, because even through the crackhead years, I swore that "I'd Always Love You" Whitney.
Welcome Back, Matsui
Yankees fans at the stadium were given quite the treat last night. No, it wasn't the laughable win putting us solidly 10 ahead of Boston. Nor was it Abreu's 7 RBIs. No, it was the return of...GODZILLA!
Hideki first at bat inspired a roaring standing ovation of the packed house. His wrist didn't seem to cause trouble as Matsui went 4-4 in his first game since that nasty injury back on May 11th.
Always humble, Matsui had this to say (via an interpreter): "I never thought I'd ever have four hits. I was pleasantly surprised. When I got to the plate I never even imagined that I would receive such an ovation," Matsui said. "I felt nothing but appreciation for the fans."
Welcome back, baby. We've missed you!
Brace Yourself, It's About To Get Ugly
Z's no Sam Champion, so I've no idea where he, or his ensuing ladyfriend went, but El Nino's back in a big way. Thankfully the weather phenom has been helping keep the hurricanes at bay (er, Atlantic) this season, but the "little boy" (as it's literally translated) will most definitely make his mark on forecasts from now until late spring of 2007.
As his love is hot, El Nino will lend a helping hand to Northeasterners this winter, or at least to our wallets, as a mild winter is typical in our region whenever Ninos are bountiful. However the lands in and bordering the Pacific are basically fucked and scientists speculate that Florida and the Gulf Coast will see more than their fair share of rainfall while drought ridden Ohio valley and Pacific Northwest will only be able to look on with envy.
Ah, mother nature. She giveth and she taketh.
The Hoff: Nothing But Class
The Hoff was out making the publicity rounds for his new autobiography "Making Waves" in the UK last Friday and began bragging like he was in the locker room post game that Princess Di and he would have done the horizontal tango had "circumstances been different." Allegedly, sparks initially flew due to their mutually tall statures and Shy Di, that saucy minx, informed The Hoff that he "looked a lot better with his clothes on" to which Hoff replied ditto. But each were still married blah blah...
Um, yeah...nothing would get me all riled up and hopping into bed quicker than someone telling me I should keep covered up.
Way to drum up some publicity by bragging about your ability to bang the Brits' most beloved icon in the British media. Long live the Hoff!
THE NEW IPODS ARE HERE!!! THE NEW IPODS ARE HERE!!!
No, dear readers, the above little white blob is not a Hershey's White Chocolate miniature. It's the new Shuffle.
Steve Jobs did what he does best today and rolled out the new lines of ipods, just in time for everyone to put them on the top of their holiday wishlists (Hey Dad - Are you reading???).
The MEGApod. Just kidding, but seriously this thing is a beast. An 80MG ipod with video capability will retail for $349. Guess what? It's got Tetris and PacMan, too. With that kind of storage, downloading movies is finally a reality. At $12.99 a pop for new releases and $9.99 for the ones already in the library, why not stock up?
A new Nano was also released. It's even thinner than it's predecessor and comes in five colors. Jobs claims the little guy will have 24 hours of battery life.
I'm seriously thinking of camping out at the SoHo store until the megapod arrives. To boot, they have a live band playing tonight, The Rapture. Get there before 8pm for the free concert.
Beatlemania's Coming To An Envelope Near You
Well, if you've a bloke in the UK that is.
The Royal Mail is releasing the above six stamps depicting some of the Fab Four's most famous album covers. If you don't have a buddy across the pond to ship you some, click here.
Don't Forget To Rock The Vote
Astronauts - They're Just Like Us
In case you missed it with all the 9/11 coverage, NASA's sent up a crew to do a little home improvement on the Space Station. As anyone who's ever tried to put together an IKEA, West Elm or other crappy piece of furniture can tell you, you're likely to end up with an extra bolt or drop a screw which then rolls into the Netherlands under the fridge/bed/couch. You'd think someone as trained as an astronaut would be a bit more careful. I mean, we're not talking about a $29.99 end table here. Best add on a few 000s.
Astronaut Joe Tanner earns my respect today for showing us what Z's long suspected - NASA's just like us: filled with "Doh! Shit, where'd it go?" handymen. Tanner was puttering around on a space walk and lost a bolt, washer and a spring. While the washer safely floated away, no one could find the bolt and spring.
"Not a good thing," Tanner said. "Let's hope it doesn't end up somewhere in the mechanism. I don't see it anywhere."
And this, dear readers, is our tax money put to good use.
Happy Birthday To The Big Unit!
I'm A Survivor
At first I was afraid. I was petrified...
Along with 74 smarties, Z's still in the running for the grand Suicide Pool prize by picking AZ to triumph over the 49ers. The pool had 293 members before the start of the season on Thursday. As of last night 10% were eliminated.
So, it's on to week two. I can feel an ulcer growing already. Decisions, decisions.
PS - How about that Manning Bowl last night? Eli, I still love you, bullshit Ref calls and all. Just remember when there's less than a minute to go - throw it out of bounds!
Remembering You Today, Shelly
At 23, Michelle Bratton had been excited to begin her new job at Cantor Fitzgerald back in August 2001. Nearly six weeks later, she remained one of the thousands of smiling faces in missing posters throughout the city, never to return home that fateful day.
Shelly had a zest for life and I'll always remember her smile and the sparkle in her eye. God Bless. Somewhere downtown, there's a yellow tea rose placed in your honor.
It's About Fucking Time
Curbed's the scoop on the announcement of all the Ground Zero plans released today. Z's particularly digging Tower 2 by Norman Foster with the cluster of slanty tops.
It's been five years. Enough of the bickering, stalling and flipflopping. Respect the past by ensuring the future. It's time to rebuild and these plans balance what once was with what will be. Kudos architecture teams. Now go build it!
Project Runway Quote Of The Night
It's that most wonderous time of year...
The Yanks and the Mets are likely headed to the playoffs and a possible sequel of the 2000 Subway World Series. Meanwhile, Gang Green and Big Blue are giving me a reason to actually travel to (or at least toss a little respect at) Dirty Jersey. Ah, September...the holiday season of my annual sports calendar.
September's also the beginning of my impending ulcer. Let's leave the torrid will-they-or-won't-they of the Yanks post season appearances since 2000 alone for now. No, what causes me to pop tums like they're tictacs on Sundays (and a few Mondays) is the weekly NFL matchups.
You see, I was honored to be invited to be a part of a friend's suicide league a few years back. I was skilled (read: LUCKY) enough to make it pretty far the first year before Seattle blew big donkey balls and a 24 point lead leading into the last five minutes of the fourth quarter against St.Louis, sending the game into sudden death overtime and my lazy lump of fur flying as I screeched every expletive my dumbfounded mind could summon up against the offending 27" flatscreen Sony Vega not five feet yonder.
Motherfucking Seattle. I will hate on you with a passion normally reserved for the MTA for as long as you remain in that fish tossing town.
But, I digress. It's a new year and new stress to be had as I go through the weekly ritual of research-pick-pray.
Week One's Pick: The Arizona Cardinals. The 49ers are traveling to the desert for this one and the Cards are breaking in their new digs with new talent to boot. The spread is 7.5 points and frankly the buzz about San Fran hasn't been hot since Young rode off into the sunset. Go Cards!
Tomorrow night I'll be embarking on an adventure I've been waiting to do for over seven years. At 6pm, I'll step aboard the infamous 151 foot Highlander yacht pictured above and owned by the Forbes family.
True, it's a work event and an overall shmoozefest, but for those in the advertising industry it's also a right of passage. My peers are shocked, appalled actually, that I've yet to secure an invite to this annual summer perk. The stars have just never been in alignment. I've either switched accounts or agencies whenever the opportunity came around. But tomorrow I get to don my sealegs and sail around the harbor to gawk up close at Lady Liberty and marvel at the underside of my favorite NYC iconic structure, the Brooklyn Bridge.
So thank you Forbes for making one of my little dreams come true. Perhaps I'll even forgive you for this.
Katie Couric made her long awaited and much anticipated debut on CBS last night. Once you got past the overindulgence of Botox, viewers noted that this was not your typical evening news broadcast. Not surprisingly, Katie sucked covering the hard news stories, but was her perky self with the soft ones. The show climaxed by breaking the Vanity Fair cover with Suri Cruise.
So there she is, dear readers, in all her glory. You can now get on with your lives.
It's Time To Pay Up
While much ballyhoo was made over every second of the criminal trial of OJ Simpson in which he was acquitted, it's often forgotten that Simpson was found guilty of the wrongful death of Nicole Simpson and Ron Goldman in the civil case that followed. Their families were awarded $33.5 million dollars in damages.
To date, OJ's only paid a fraction of that and claims that he's basically broke. Fred Goldman, Ron's father, is hearing none of it. He's filed a petition to go after Simpson's publicity rights, and therefore take any of his autograph stunt earnings.
While the motion is unprecedented and a bit far fetched, Goldman doesn't give a shit.
"Hopefully, frankly, that will cause him some discomfort and pain," Goldman said.
Go get him, Goldman!
Deathwatch 2006: Crazy Croc Hunters
While indulging in much needed sun and fun this weekend, the news that Steve Irwin passed with such pizazz struck a chord. I won't lie; the guy always seemed a french fry short of a happy meal to me, but so long as he wasn't dangling a newborn as bait to one of his snap-happy friends, I dug his passion. We all likely could only wish to love our jobs as much as this guy did. As tragic as his death is, at least he went out in a fitting way.
The countdown to the video release of Irwin v Stingray unfortunately now begins...
Happy Labor Day!
Z and Co. are flying through Ernesto's remnants for some sun and fun here this weekend. Well, maybe not that exact house, but you get the drift-wood. (sorry, couldn't help myself). Pending no gator attacks and assuming spotting internet service, I'll be back to give you my little take on the world's goingson on Wednesday.
So have fun firing up the barbie and/or sloshing through the puddles, dear readers.
I've Gotta Get One Of These
Those crazy Japanese are up to it again! The Miuro is a robot you insert your ipod into. Like the Roomba vac, it rolls around, becoming a "rolling boombox." The little guy is just over a foot long and has a Kenwood speaker system. For those that wish to match their decor, Miuros come in white, black, yellow and red. Oh, and they retail for $930.
I should get one just to terrorize my fat and lazy ball of fur.