Saturday, January 30, 2010

Rave: How do you talk to an angel?

There are few people in this world that I would really, truly be starstruck by. I think we all know about my fangirl obsession with Roberts Blossom, but this young man could possibly be even higher on my list of "people I would like to share a McFlurry with". Ladies and gentlemen I am, of course, speaking about Ray Pruit of Beverly Hills 90210 fame.

Behold, Ray Pruit in his Texas tuxedo*:


*[after posting this entry, I was angrily accosted by more than one of my friends, who insisted this was, in fact, a "Canadian Tuxedo". After much diligent research I have found that they are both valid descriptors of Ray Pruit's glorious ensemble. I also found out about the "Guido Tuxedo" which is equally excellent]

For the uninitiated (ie. rejects) who don't know, Ray Pruit ("one T. It's all my momma could afford") was a musician/carpenter who foolishly allowed himself to fall for Donna "helmet hair, franken-boobs" Martin. Donna would play games with Ray's working class heart, one moment telling him she liked him, the next going on dates with other dudes. Ray even brought her both the largest and smallest pumpkins from the lot where he would sell seasonal merchandise. He then smashed them all to pieces when he found out that Donna had flown to Catalina Island with Casper. The pumpkin smashing was a mere hint at the awesomeness that was to come, namely Ray introducing Donna to a flight of stairs.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Rave: Baked Alaska

What is sweet, cold, hot, awesome and gives you diarrhea all at once? Ladies and gents allow me to introduce you to the new official dessert of Veronica Montebellucci: Baked Alaska!



Last night, myself, my wife and an assortment of my very best (ie. not inept or at all annoying) coworkers wined and dined in the "Board Room" of Delmonicos. How did they allow a ragtag team of deviants in to such a fine establishment? Why it was Restaurant Week, of course!For the uninitiated, Restaurant Week is the time of the year when fancy places open their doors to plebes like me and offer deep discounts on what would otherwise be prices roughly equivalent to my monthly living expenses.
Behold:


Thursday, January 14, 2010

Rant: This is not your living room, movie watching philistines (Omnibus locus fit caedes)

I recently broke my own vow to myself and partook in the cinematic "event" that was "Avatar". I knew before I went in that it would be some sort of James Cameron vanity project, but the lure of 3D vision was too great. Those red and green lenses beckoned like sirens, propelling me back to the days of my beloved View Master.


An aside:
Sadly, my View Master was responsible for the slow and painful deaths of many a good man. The Beaverton factory where they were made was build atop a toxic waste dump. Fellow children of the 80s and possibly 90s WE HAVE BLOOD ON OUR HANDS!!!Beaverton blood, no less.

Anyhoo, I went to my local theatre (Park Slope Pavillion, holla!), and was immediately disappointed to find that they had done away with my favorite Downs Syndrome ticket ripper. Now, just wait a goddamn minute Judgey McSneer. I didn't look down on this young man. He made me feel good. The joy he demonstrated upon each rip was an unparalleled delight in a service industry which usually treats me as though I had just pulled down my trousers and defecated in front of it.

NB. The only place I feel more hated is in government-run institutions where I just feel frightened and alone. In fact, I often opine that if one wanted to experience pure, unadulterated confusion and terror they should deplane at Los Angeles International "Airport".