My dietary staples

I suspect that about 25% of my meals over the last seven years have consisted of either ravioli or egg salad sandwiches, although the last year has brought that number down.

If I never eat another lentil in my life, it will be too soon. My mom used to feed us that crap as kids.

At the bar

I've switched my "house" scotch from Crawford's to Cutty Sark. I emptied the bottle of Crawford's in my bar a few months ago and had been hitting the good stuff (Chivas and Walker Black) since then. I bought a 1.75 of Cutty a few weeks ago.

by the way, IWJT

i was just typing.

but i still don't think that 24 is any worse than skating with celebrities. but i watched that too.

just hold me. for a little bit.

all i know is that i trust jack bauer to always have a back up plan and that the most awesome prezzie is now gone. i'm counting the "real" presidents too.

please, don't ask me to argue about my feelings.

On 24

I think the cougar distracted Not Erik Estrada from what otherwise was a fantastic Season 2 (aka the Season of the Neverending Supply of Blonde Women). I think allowing the bomb to detonate was a great choice by the writers. Although I've not seen Season 1 since it originally aired, I think Seasons 2 and 4 were just as good as Season 1 on the whole--as silly as the cougar was, it wasn't as poor a plot choice as WifeofKeifer's amnesia in Season 1. Season 3 is the season that should not have been.

The time format idea will be justified in perpetuity if they ever show Jack Bauer at a urinal. IJT

there is nothing wrong with 24

see how anticipatory we were???? and it rulez.

True Story

It's at least as true as A Million Little Pieces.
I live in a neighborhood that the talking heads would describe as "diverse" with sizeable populations of both whites and blacks, a sizeable gay and lesbian community, and several distinct immigrant groups including Spanish speakers, Muslims (Arabic and African), Bosnians, and Romanians. The 7/11 by my house is very much a place where cultures collide--it's owned (or at least was owned in 1999) by Iranians who employ several North Africans of various nationalities and is patronized by old-school South City Hoosiers, blacks, Spanish-speaking Hispanics, Bosnians, and many others whose countries of origin cannot easily be determined. The other day, I stopped by on my way home from work, so I was still wearing a suit and tie. Someone came in to the 7/11 asking for directions to the zoo. Although the zoo wasn't terribly far (maybe 5 miles or so away), I have no idea how someone looking for the zoo would have found the 7/11 because it's not near a highway or major arterial road that a tourist would use to get to the zoo. Two 20ish guys were trying to give her directions and, by their own admission, the directions weren't very clear (e.g., "I don't know the name of the street, but there's a big house near it" or "make a left at my cousin Ray Ray's place"). After a couple of minutes of this, one guy said "Yo, jus' ass' the white man," obviously meaning me. The other guy said "Yeah, yeah, that's a good idea. Hey, white man. White man, er I mean, uh sir," with a slightly apologetic tone at the end. Knowing that he meant me [and not being offended in the least by being referred to as "white man"], I walked up and gave her the directions, though my directions ended with "follow the signs once you're in the park." After the woman left, the 2 other guys who gave her directions, the counterman, and I all talked about her and how in the world she could have wound up in there while trying to find the zoo. The guy who referred to me as "white man" apologized for doing so, and I told him "Hey, don't worry about it, black guy." We all laughed, and I left. A couple of days later, I was eating at the bar across the street when I heard "Hey, white man. White man." I realized it was the dude from the 7/11, so I said "Heeyy, black guy!" We had a beer and laughed at the woman again.

IJT

I have a problem with babies not being killed.

Actually, I was at the grocery store yesterday when I ran into an old friend and her baby, whom I'd never seen. I actually had the desire to hold her baby. I didn't do it, but I felt like a tool just the same. I immediately went home and cried in the shower.

Bad News

Last weekend, I rented the remake of the Bad News Bears. Although there was such a high possibility of suckitude (i.e., the original still holds up really well and hasn't aged poorly, so there's no compelling reason to remake it; plus, previews made it look like a cliche Hollywood, too-many-hands-in-production-with-a-bland-outcome movie), I rented it anyway because Richard Linklater directed it. Having loved much of his past work (specifically Slacker and Dazed and Confused) and at least liking his other films I'd seen, I assumed he would make a movie that was at least entertaining despite being a kids movie, much like he did with School of Rock.
I was wrong. It was horrible. The story wasn't updated in any interesting way, Marcia Gay Harden's talent was wasted on a secondary, uninteresting role, Billy Bob Thornton phoned in a performance of a guy phoning in his job, and none of the kids were interesting (before I'm accused of simply not liking kids, which is true, I'd like to state for the record that I think that Linklater got terrific performances out of several of the kids in School of Rock, and I wasn't annoyed by any of them). Worst of all, the movie was sooooooooooooo much more politically correct than the original--odd for a movie that is supposed to revel in its unpolitically correct theme. Lame.