My Favorite Halloween Gaud

Ever since the Manfriend and I began our long distance relationship (he lives across the Hudson in Jersey), I've been able to observe Suburban Life. One thing that particularly tickles my funny bone is the ornate and increasingly idiotic ways people decorate their lawns. Don't get me wrong, I've seen all kinds of crap crammed into the the 10x12 lots my fellow Brooklynites call front yards, but the lawns of this particular part of Jersey continue to amaze me.

Granted, some homeowners have clearly taken pride in doing up their yards with beautiful mums, scarecrows and plump pumpkins resting on stacks of hay. And then there's just plain tackiness. I'm talking about those people who smother every form of landscaping with that horrid green or black faux spiderweb stuff. Also, when did the dangly icicle Christmas lights mutate for other seasons?

But I save my utter disdain for the worst of the suburban decorating set, and I use that term loosely. I'm speaking of course about those lazy homeowners who deem it appropriate to throw some 6x4 blowup character on their lawn and call it a day. When I first saw these appear circa the Christmas of '00, I knew in my gut the damn things would be taking over otherwise respectable looking communities for which a driver's licence is mandatory for survival.

Upon spotting one of these hideous incarnations, I point with glee from the passenger seat of Manfriend's hybrid. The spiders are just stupid. The witch, mummy and vampire squished into a pumpkin doesn't get my fur up like the giant gaudy Shreks, but I save outright laughter for the mentally deranged product at the top of this post: Elmo hugging a pumpkin stack.

It's genius lies in it's simplicity and resourcefulness. I mean come on, could it be any more obvious how the damn thing was invented? Some factory spit out a deformed batch of Elmo/Snowman figures and the brains of the operation had himself an aha! moment: Lets just dye 'em orange and smack some silly jacko-smiles on each ball creating a whole new product for Halloween. The executives at Wal-Mart will love 'em!

While I've only spotted two to date, I practically make the Manfriend stalk the streets they're on and have made a mental note of the addresses. Why? Christmas is right around the corner! I am dying to know if they have the matching originals. Care to bet?

Get Your Shop On

If you've an extra $2.7 Million bucks laying around, you'd better act fast. FOX has only between five to ten :30 spots left to sell in the annual NFL extravaganza Ad Age reported today.

The demand is so tight this early on due to the auto and movie industries who've gobbled up a huge chunk of coveted airtime. Oh, and the special value add of blowing one of my brands' annual budgets during a bathroom break? Sibling company My Space will be hawking endless promos urging viewers to log on/sign up to view longer edits and download coupons.

Jerseyites and 80s throwbacks will be happy to hear Bon Jovi is slated to preform a G rated Halftime set. Makes you miss the days of Wardrobe Malfunctions, no?

The F Train Follies

The day I've been waiting for finally arrived.

MTA workers greeted commuters this morning at the Carroll Street turnstiles by handing out rider report cards for the F line. Since moving to the hood in 1999 I've often vented my frustration at the lack of service upgrades the MTA has offered residents of Carroll Gardens and the surrounding neighborhoods' booming population growth in emails to the MTA, petitioning my local politicians and bitching with fellow passengers. (OK that last one's not exactly being proactive) Finally, there's to be an official tally of public opinion.

Hopefully recent reports of bringing back the F Express being impossible until 2012 (at the very earliest) will be sped up via public outcry like the lucky L and 7 riders will soon enjoy.

Just a few more trains during rush hours, please! Or extend the V out to Church Ave or Kings Highway. Something. Anything.

Fellow F riders, click here and make your voice heard.

Happy riding,
Z.

Say Wha?

At a recent campaign stop, die hard Yanks fan Rudy Giuliani sold out in an attempt to swing a few votes and said he'd be rooting for 'fellow American League" Red Sox in the upcoming World Series.

Ah Rudy, have you no self respect? Then again, I remember all too well what an asshat you were pre-9/11. Hopefully now the rest of the country catches on.

Click here for NYMag's take on the development.

Dumpwatch 2007: Torre Tells Georgieboy To Stuff His Offer Where The Sun Doesn't Shine

After being left to twist in the wind, Torre slipped down to Tampa today and basically told Steinbrenner and Co. to fuck off, rejecting their $5MM one year deal (with bonuses for each round of playoffs secured) in the hour long meeting.

It's an end of an era to be sure. You gotta respect the guy for leaving with his dignity intact but the bench just won't be the same without him.

We'll miss you, Joe.

So Wrong On So Many Levels

Juicy has a new line out for dogs. This is the marketing technique they are pinning revenue hopes on.

Wowza.

Congrats Big Al

My morning routine incorporates WPLJ while showering. I nearly got soap in my eye when Patty, Scott and Todd started discussing Al Gore's Nobel Peace Prize today. I knew he was in the consideration set, but didn't think it would actually pan out.

What a year my man has had! OSCAR, EMMY and now this? Oh, if only our would/should-be Prez had the ambition to use this as a springboard to toss his hat into the Presidential Ring...

Alas, my money's on the Presidential Elect creating a new cabinet position, Secretary of the Environment, for which Big Al would be a shoe-in.

Congrats to my favorite former VP. Well earned and well deserved.

Deathwatch 2007: Don't Go In The Water

May 16, 2006 - October 9, 2007

You may remember my delightful companion Jaws. For the past year and a half, he's started my mornings out right playfully dancing for his breakfast. He'd always show off for kitchen visitors by darting daredevil laps around his globe.

But last night's stressful and ultimately hopeless playoff loss seems to have broken the little guy's heart, for this morning I came upon a most unwelcome site. My Jaws didn't greet me with his usual twirling. In fact, he didn't so much greet me as lay at an unfathomable angle upside down at the top of his globe. In denial, I even tossed his morning food into the globe and hastily left him hopeful there was some mistake and upon my arrival this evening, he'd be his usual colorful self.

Alas, I've come to terms with my little friend's passing.

Adieu, sweet Jaws.

Thank you for making my mornings and homecomings that much merrier.

What's Bugging The Yanks?

Swarms and swarms of midges descended on Jacobs Field during the eighth inning last night in Game 2 of the ALDS, creating a new set of Joba Rules.

Rule #1: Teamwork Makes The Dream Work

Posada, ever the dependable teammate, sprays down The Sandman.

Rule #2: Be Aggressive. B-E Aggressive. B-E AGG-R-E-S-S-I-V-E.

Um, ARod? Where exactly are you spraying to make him smile like that?

Rule #3: There's No "I" In Team

But as The Captain shows, there is a feeling of woe is ME

Rule #4: Always Keep Your Cool

Proving stressful situations don't phase him, Joba gets some TLC from the Ump before walking two, hitting a batter and making two wild pitches.

I'm expecting frogs falling from a sky full of Ebbets Field raised flying pigs if after the Yanks get the fuck outta Cleveland and come home, they don't take Game 3 in The Stadium tomorrow night while The Boss is in attendance.

Hey Yanks Fans,

Anyone else feel they were watching Major League last night on TBS? Jesus fucking Christ!

At any point, I expected to see ARod throwing back shots of rum in a hopeful nod to Jobu while Torre purposefully pisses on his contract in front of George.

Nostrovia, Sputnik!

Our Ruskie friends are celebrating a most monumental occasion today. Fifty years ago, Sputnik was launched into orbit marking the beginning of the space race and (somewhat) easing tensions in a developing Cold War between two superpowers by distracting them with a good natured competition. Ultimately, it was the U.S.A. who'd land a man on the Moon, but let's give credit where credit's due.

It should also be noted it was the Soviets who sent the first man into space, Yuri Gagarin, and carried out the first spacewalk. Of course we all know what came next - the bankruptcy of a corrupt and coroding form of government leading to the eventual collapse of the Soviet Union and their space program.

But things have been looking up lately and Russia has new ambitions to regain their status as a leader in aeronautics. In fact, the program's set a date for a Mars landing: 2020. And wouldn't that be something special - the Russians land a man on Mars the same year the MTA finally runs the first car up the Second Avenue Subway. Ahh, technology!