Weekend Eats!

Whew friends, did I have a weekend of eatin! Y'all know it's football season again, which means I often find myself on Sundays forced to watch men knocking each other down for hours on end, and my only recourse is to eat my way through the misery.

So I went with a friend of mine to meet some folks at a bar downtown to watch the Eagles game, and let me just say, Eagles fans are a special breed. Y'all know I think any man who screams at a television screen to people who get paid a million dollars a year to run around with a little ball is just plainly a moron, but Wow! these Eagles fans are particularly militant in their screaming and moronic in their loyalty. Every damn person in the bar was sporting a green jersey and I actually saw them Boo a guy outta the place for wearing a Giants tee-shirt. I mean, come on folks, we're in New York, y'all can hop the train back to Philly any time.

But whatever, the point is the bar served Philly Cheesesteaks at half-time for FREE!! Now you can just imagine my delight, having just finished one of the best damn cheeseburgers in the city, when the waitress plops down a try of cheesesteaks. I mean to tell you, if I'da known this bar existed I'da been an Eagles fan years ago! I'll sit through just about anything for free beer but honey, for free greasy cheese, I might even let out a cheer or two!

Then it was off to Little Italy for the Feast of San Gennaro, and if you've never been to an Italian feast, let me just assure you, these folks know how to eat! I mean it's basically a big ol' street fair, complete with the dart games that win you nothing but a stab at your pride and the trinket vendors that will engrave your name on just about any object that will stand still. But unlike the festivals in the South where they serve funnel cakes and corndogs, the Italians feed you like you were sitting around momma's table. You can actually buy baked ziti on the street! Not to mention calamari and stuffed clams. Now the first year I attended I wondered if eating seafood from a collapsible stand was maybe not the best idea, but let me assure you everything was just fine. The only issue was trying to collect all my food items while carrying a coconut filled with pina colada that tasted mainly of rum because it was made by a 12-year-old with a blender and no supervision.

Lord child, by the time I rolled outta Little Italy, there was nothing little about me, to be sure. Of course, all good things must come to an end, so here I sit with my organic frozen burrito and Diet Pepsi dreaming of sausage and pepper heroes until next year's feast.

Nicole, honey...

...you can hold a cup of ice cream all damn day long, and there ain't nobody gonna believe you took a bite! This week's Star Magazine shows the skin-and-bones celeb leaving Baskin Robbins with a big ol' cuppa ice cream, which you have to know was purchased in an attempt to convince America that she is regular person with regular eating habits. Honey, you know she didn't do more than sniff those 31 flavors and as soon as she reaches the safety of her ridiculously expensive SUV she's gonna dump that cup faster than you can say an-or-ex-i-a.

And look at poor Karen Carpenter, it's hard to be "on top of the world" when you're six feet under, ain't it? I mean really, what normal woman weighs 83 lbs? Child I haven't seen 83 lbs since sometime in elementary school and even then it was only after a bout of the stomach flu.

Why the hell can't these people just EAT!! Do you know how much more energy it takes to deprive yourself than to just order the damn pizza? It's just too much. The entire West Coast is walking around on pencil legs with giant balloon heads, and the rest of America thinks that's attractive?

All I can say, is thank God Sweetpotato likes his women thick of the thigh, cause there just ain't no way Queenie's passing up a buffet or a Baskin Robbins any time soon!

The Brits and their parties

Well friends, I have just been all over the place in the past couple weeks, but Praise the Lord, I have returned to the land of the living with stories galore!

Now this fella here was at a party I attended across the pond. Now, judging from this shot you'd probably think it was quite a raucous bash, but you see this just goes to prove folks ain't got no sense when it comes to fashion and photography. I mean it was quite a posh event and the guestlist was rather star-studded. And of course because it was England, there was Lady Something Or Other and Lord What's His Name, and then right there amid the nobility was ass-less pant's guy.

I mean can you believe that? There on one side of the room is Jimmy Choo of incredibly-over-priced-but-totally-adorable-stilletto fame, and other the other side we have a man who laces his butt together. Perfectly reasonable, I can see how they'd all get along!

I was of course wearing a surprisingly flattering wrap dress with a cheetah print and peep-toe platforms, terribly fabulous I'm afraid. Y'all know I normally flop about in jeans and boots, but I do believe that everyone should be able to pull it together a few times a year at the very least. Unfortunately, for some folks, "pulling yourself together" actually requires pulling the laces of your pants, and not even getting them closed it seems.

The best part was when I asked him for his picture he actually told me he was SHY. Well then perhaps you might consider covering yourself a bit more, but that's just a guess. Once again, you can criss-cross the ocean that divides our two countries, but there are some cracks that will never disappear;-)

Vanity Fair

By now I know you've seen it...the Alien Baby of 2006 has made it's first appearance in the celebrity world.

Now, I don't care what they say, I don't even believe this is the real kid. I mean these people didn't even speak to their kid for the first 40 days (or whatever that Scientology bullshit says) and now you want me to believe they are gonna splatter her all over the newstands? Of course, who the hell knows. Tom Cruise is so full of himself he might well sell of these pictures to fund the open of a dozen more "churches" devoted to the reading of ficticious rhetoric by ol' L. Ron Hubbard. And Katie Holmes grows more vacuous by the hour, so she just shows up wherever they send her.

What must Katie's parents think? Here they go a raise a sweet little girl and were probably worried to death when she took off for Hollywood, fearing the heartless industry would destroy their baby, and lo and behold she has hooked herself up with the Top Gun of insanity itself. The worst part of this Scientology nonsense is that they don't believe in medicating, cause Tommy could really use a double dose.

Of course, I have yet to read the article, I'm waiting to get the copy delivered to my office cause though I would love to get the dirt, it's not really worth $4.50 to me when I can get it for free. But actually knowing the facts has never stopped me from commentating before, so I figured I might as well go on and give my two cents. Plus I know y'all don't read this blog to learn anything, there are all manner of other sites that contain knowledge, and all anybody really needs from me is something to make fun of and a little ire to start you off. So, for today we have Tom is an ass, Katie is a void, and Suri is a stupid name...ready, set, GO!

Another Fashion Violation

Now matter how many times I tell y'all that multiple trend combining is not a good idea, I still encounter folks on the way to work looking like a magazine ad gone bad. Apparently my readers are not spreading the word like they should cause folks are running around lookin a hot mess all over the place.

This unfortunate child on the subway today had an amalgam of cheap trendy bits like you've never seen and none of which you'd wanna be caught dead in. Let's start with her moccasins...yes I said moccasins. There was some sort of stitching on the toe, undoubtedly of the stupid fad variety. And then there was the studded purse, purchased from a street cart to be sure. Some multi-strand green glass necklace that I suppose was to be "jade," that was getting caught in her braided pig tales. Pig tales are the cutest things ever if you're at the beach or 5 years old. Braids and moccasins only go together for your school presentation of the first Thanksgiving. Now to top this all off, she was wearing large-frame white sunglasses with a 10 carat round rhinestone glued to each side.

First of all, people who wear sunglasses inside should be shot for being stupid. Celebrities and poorly-attired commuters alike. There is no sun in an underground tunnel you moron and if you're worried about people recognizing you then you shouldn't be dressing like a Canal Street Pocahontas in public. (*** this line is only funny if you know that Canal Street is the place in Manhattan where all the cheap knock-off handbags and accessories are sold illegally, and where most young people get their Louis Vouittons)

And so she's justa reading her paper thinking she's all cute and I just wanted to say to her, honey there is nothing remotely cute about looking like a wannabe pop star with bad shoes and unflattering hair. Just another of example about how you gotta give folks taste and show them how to use it, which is why I will continue to fight bad fashion via the Internet. So if you, dear readers, get a pig tale whim one day and don't know whether or not to step out your door just remember that unless you're heading to the beach, the gym, or to a costume contest you'd best go for the ponytail.

Live Long and Die in Debt

I have recently come to a realization about money...I don't have any. I have never had any to speak of and yet somehow I've managed to live this long sheltered and fed, and you know I haven't missed not a single meal. So I've grown used to the feeling of poverty and it doesn't really impede my lifestyle on a daily basis. Sweetpotato, on the other hand, just cannot seem to wrap his mind around the idea of debt. It's almost as if he's been living in a parallel universe where people pay for things in cash. How frightening!

Whenever I go shopping I just whip out the ol' credit card and it's like I'm getting things for free! And yes I know they aren't free, and that in fact they are costing me more in the long run, but honey I just can't be bothered with all that in the moment if I'm trying to by a fabulous dress I desperately need to wear to a party I certainly must attend. So I just charge it, and whe that card's full I get another one. I mean it's really the only way to live within my budget.

Sweetpotato keeps insisting debit is a bad thing, but honey let me tell you, were it not for those little plastic rectangles in my wallet I'd be holding a paper cup on the corner of 42nd and Broadway. Basically there are two kinds of people in the world, those who are rich and those who are in debit. I am not rich, therefore, I am in debit, and I just couldn't be happier. Folks are always trying to convince you to scrimp and save to buy those things you want, but let's face it, if I waited until I could "afford" new jeans, I'd be walking through Manhattan bare-ass naked. You show me a woman with a balanced checkbook, no debt, and a 401K and I'll show you a woman who doesn't own enough shoes.

Now I'm not advocating total irresponsibility, but for those of us without a trust fund debit is pretty much a constant state of being. There is a balance on my credit card now and there will be a balance on my credit card on the day I die. It's the American way.

Look, at a certain point it's between God and Visa, and there's just nothing you can do about it.

Angels?

Now children, this is what happens to people who spend too much time with their plastic surgeons.

I mean, seriously, look at these women. Oh, you don't recognize the one on the left? Well that's because Farrah Fawcett has had her nose re-done so many times even she can't remember what it looked like to begin with. As any good Star Magazine reader knows, this girl's got a LOT of makeup on, cause when they catch her on the Knifestyles of the Rich and Famous page, her skin's sagging off like Star Jones' arm flab. God love her, she just could not go old gracefully.

And my God, Kate Jackson's eye lift was a little tight don't ya think? I mean, the goal is to look refreshed, not constantly surprised. Perhaps she's been spending a bit too much time with her cat...starting to see a resemblance.

Now Jaclyn has done it right. She looks fabulous. I mean obviously her face is frozen in time, but her neck appears to be holding it's own at least. All that jawing at the Emmys about being friends you know was total crap because clearly Jackie didn't give the other two her surgeon's name and number. A real friend wouldn't let you get such bad work done if they knew a surgeon who knew what they were doing!

But then, can you actually imagine three 20-something starlets all fighting to be the hottest angel in the tightest pants who would actually be friends? Me either. Regardless, I just wanted to share this with y'all as part of your daily beauty instruction, lest you fall victim to a bad bout of Botox.

The lesson: Aim for Jackie ladies, aim for Jackie.