Satan’s Chocolate

Joelle said in the late morning on July 25, 2007

It pained me to even take this photo.  But I had to bear witness to marzipan in the wild.  I’m used to spotting it only in fancy gourmet places, but to be confronted with it on my common grocery store shelf.  This is going too far!

Oh, Ritter Sport. You forsake me.

posted from my cell phone

Deigning Dane

Joelle said in the early morning on July 24, 2007

OK, someone needs to tell me because I really, really don’t get it:  What is the big deal about Dane Cook?

Last night, after getting home from cocktails with Lyn, I wasn’t quite ready for bed, so I put on some Dane Cook stand-up show called Vicious Circle on HBO.  I chuckled maybe once or twice, but overall, I was relatively unimpressed.  I love stand-up. I’m a huge stand-up fan, but I just didn’t see what the big whoop is about him. 

It seems like wherever I turn these days I run into people who like, revere him.  Is he really that great?  Is he this year’s Mitch Hedburg?  According to the show I watched, he’s able to sell-out huge arenas, so is he that good or are people just lemmings? 

I like a variety of stand-up. Everything from Bill Hicks to George Carlin to Chris Rock to Ellen to Eddie Izzard.  And I really dig comics that appear to be kind of random and speak to things we can all relate to, like Gary Gulman’s diatribes on cookies (his bit on Sugar Cookies here).  Love that and Dane Cook appears to have those qualities, but I don’t know… there’s something off-putting about him.  I don’t like how he runs around, ducks n’ weaves and talks really loud, kind of saying, “You will find me funny! Hey, Look over here!” Do I just not want to like him because everyone else does?  No, I don’t think that’s it.  Something in his delivery… I don’t know.

So, comedy fans… sell me.  Why should I like Dane Cook?

Of Pencils, Books and Teachers’ Dirty Looks

Joelle said in the early morning on July 23, 2007

Back-to-school time is nostalgic for me.  Of course, I take joy in the fact that kids are all going back to school and won’t be loitering around playing grab-ass anymore (wow, I sound like my Dad), but mostly, the back-to-school sales, advertisements and such remind me of a hopeful, exciting time: the start of the new school year, when anything is possible and there’s a chance you might not be a complete peon anymore.

While most teenagers gripe about school, I really loved it.  Granted, I did well in my classes, so I spent my spare time coming up with creative ways to get out of actually going to class, instead ditching to go sit in on the jazz ensemble classes my choir director was leading.  Yes, I ditched class to go sing in a choir.  I’m so punk rock.  Anarchy, etc.

Anyway, I digress.  Back-to-school was always a time I could daydream about the possibilities of the year to come.  Is chemistry going to suck?  Will the snobby girl be nicer this year?  Will Chris whats-his-face ask me to “go with him”? (And really, where did we think we were going?  No one drove and I wasn’t allowed to date.)

Starting around 11-years-old until I was actually 17, I bought the August issue of Seventeen magazine every year and read it cover to cover. I would sit in my windowsill at night and flip through each page carefully, dog-earing the pages that contained stuff I fancied and things I “definitely wanted”. I conjured images in my head of me wearing that skirt with those shoes and oh my god, I will just die if I don’t get that new Bonne Belle Lip Potion…

And school supplies?  Oh!  Nirvana!  I loooooooooove school supplies. In fact, I love most office supplies.  I don’t know what that’s about, but I know I’m not alone.  And school supplies were extra special. Your binder spoke volumes about you — what bands you listened to, what cliques you belonged to (if any — I didn’t really. I was the Every Girl™ )… if you were cool in elementary school, you had a Trapper Keeper.  If you were even cooler and a girl, you had a Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper.  The preferred choice in high school was any kind of plain binder you could scribble your undying love for Michael Hutchence and Robert Smith all over.  *cough* Not that I would know anything about that…

Back-to-school is upon us!  What are your favorite back to school memories?

What? No “Information Superhighway”?!

Joelle said around dinner time on July 22, 2007

This shirt is so worth a zoom in.

Bad Beer, Bad Beer, Whatcha Gonna Do?

Joelle said around dinner time on July 21, 2007

GFI and I hit 7-11 tonight to pick up some beer for one of our evening dish sessions on the terrace.  She picks up Skinny Dip, the summer brew by New Belgium, the makers of Fat Tire. Good stuff, fine fine.  I, in a major momentary lapse of reason, bought a 6-pack of Miller Chill.  Allow me to the be the first to say, “Joelle, what were you thinking?” Seriously.

My Default Beer is Stella Artois.  It’s almost always in my fridge.  When I go to pubs, I usually drink Guinness.  I have no idea what possessed me to buy this beer.  Limited selection, maybe… I don’t know.  I don’t drink Miller of any variety, really, so I’m not sure why I thought this would be good.  Both GFI and I were like, “Hm… maybe it’s good.  Should we try it? We could try it… OK, what the hell?”

What the hell, indeed.  Miller, this beer genuinely sucks. It sucks more than any other beer you have made. It’s tremendous, boundless, colossal, elephantine ass. I couldn’t even finish the bottle and GFI practically begged me to not leave it in her fridge.  We stood there for a few minutes, trying to figure out a place I could unload it. 

“Leave it for the landscaping guy?” GFI suggested.

I said, “I could leave it by the curb.  You think? It’s gay pride weekend, surely someone will pick it up...”

GFI said, “Leave it by the dumpster and tie some chicken to it, maybe someone will take it...”

That was my favorite, by the way. Tie some chicken to it.

Miller, you know you’ve made some crap beer if you have to bribe someone to take it off your hands by tying hunks of chicken to it.  Now c’mon… that’s just sad.