Ripley!

Q: What’s your tour prep regimen, fashion style? Walk me through that.

A: I’m absolutely not going to do that. You know American Apparel? You know the ads with the skinny dudes with like one ball hanging out of their really tight underwear? It’s like that.

Q: I went by our local AA store the other day and they had mannequins dressed in tighty whities that were hot pink, which I guess makes them tighty pinkies, and my husband refused to buy and wear them for me.

A: But he was like ‘you’ve already married me, I don’t have to go through this type of degradation, do I, really?’

Q: I wonder who does buy that shit.

A: I don’t know, man, I feel like it’s just a strange almost infiltration of twisted Canadian culture. I don’t know who buys it, who buys it is fucking everybody actually. But it’s just weird to see, I mean look, I’m not mad at them, I will credit them for bringing spandex back, and while I’m not particularly a fan of wearing spandex, I do like it when girls wear spandex, so I can’t be completely mad at them. But there’s something a little strange about the whole culture.

until i went through the security line at the airport and the tsa guard looked at me all suspicious-like and asked what i was trying to pull bringing fudge through the checkpoint. i tried to be helpful and pointed out that the fudge is actually only liquidy when it’s hot, but she was having none of it. my logical argument of the solidity of fudge got me nowhere; she also informed me that peanut butter was not allowed. when i asked if reeses peanut butter cups were allowed, she gave me a dirty look and asked if i was “trying to be funny.” i immediately said no and advised her to enjoy the fudge and went off on my fudgeless way.

walker pointed out when i told him this story that the fudge looks an awful lot like explosives material. well, i suppose. but damn, i paid $15 to make my grandma happy and all i got was a nasty tsa agent.

i’m sure i’ll fix it eventually, but in case you haven’t noticed lately i’m lazy as all get out.  hopefully the new nba season will compel me to blog more.

i had a long terrible dream last night that had a moment in which walker and i were hiding/stalking teddy roosevelt and his gang of thugs, and we were in a stand of bushes in a park, when he suddenly pointed up at the tree above us and made a motion for me to be quiet because we were being spied on by an eagle.  how did he know it was a spy?  because it was an eagle from the 1960s, which he could tell by its haircut.

i’m not sure if it was a real eagle or a stuffed one.

yesterday i interviewed john k samson of the weakerthans.  so now i’m good to go with my lineup of samson, ben gibbard and brit daniel ready at my beck and call in my cell phone address book.  erinaroo 2008!

i love the album art for weakerthans/reunion tour.

today i made the crunchy and custardy peach tart because walker picked it out after i told him to go through my cookbooks and find some sort of peach pastry for me to make. i was thinking more along the lines of peach pie or something, since i bought seconds peaches yesterday at the market. but he picked that. there isn’t even a picture of it so i’m not quite sure how he chose it, but then again it does have “peach” in the title so that was probably the method.

unfortunately the recipe involves such joys as blanching and peeling and halving and slicing peaches, none of which i am particularly good at and especially when the peaces are bruisy seconds. it also involves making a tart crust in advance, which i did. except i neglected to notice that you are supposed to actually partially cook the crust before filling it and baking it proper. so i ladidah made the crust and froze it for 45 minutes and then filled it with ugly bruised chopped peach non-slices and the custardy sauce and shoved it in the oven. five minutes later i noticed the whole “partially bake the crust” element of the recipe. sigh.

i am banking on the fact that all the ingredients remain the same so it will still taste good. it will just have a crappy, soggy, non-fully-cooked crust.

goddammit.

just because of this, even though we’re going to dinner at joshva’s in a couple of hours (hence the dessert, and the poblano-corn pudding i made last night), i think i deserve some fried zucchini flower strips.

to sum up:

– applied for, got, and started a new job, same company, a month ago; still feel completely out of place but once i have something tangible to work on i’ll probably be okay

– i was really good at my old job and i have remind myself that i was also really bored

– we’re getting foodstuffs from the csa and i’m trying to be good about using them

– my tomato plants are really mean and refuse to produce tomatoes, which is quite awful given the addiction to summer heirloom tomatoes i developed last summer

– we got a new roof and are therefore poor and can also never ever move out of the house

– i need more sleep

i guess that’s about it.

HUBIE BROWN HOT DOG COOKER!!!:

fig. 1: original cthulhu hot dog roaster

fig. 2: skeletor

fig. 3: CTHULHUBIE

need I say more?

This got me thinking about some other possible heds they could have used to make it an all mull, all the time set.

• Vin Baker mulls cider, calls AA sponsor
• Mehmet Okur reaches out to Asian neighbors, endorses brand of mulligatawny
• Wade to undergo further surgery, calls mulligan on celebrity golf tourney
• Mullet awareness group taps Flip Saunders as spokesman

Which brings me to an important discussion that needs to be had about the Stons coach. I think it’s about time for an intervention. The fuschia paisley tie that he rolled out in Phoenix in March (and that he has worn at least once since! Is it some sort of nod to Paisley Park?) was bad enough. But the Flip mullet is seriously getting out of control. At this point it’s basically hanging out on a boat on the Styx between early Seinfeld mullet and the ultimullet of Kirk Cameron circa Growing Pains. He seems to have cut back a bit on the canned tan he likes to apply, but dear god, will somebody get his wife out of Minny and move her to the D? Say what you want about Larry Brown, but he always looked dapper and his Prada colostomy bag was a thing of beauty.

Either way, looking forward to seeing how it has progressed in the interminable break between round one and round two for the playoffs. I’m sure it is positively flourishing.

Now, I take playoffology and draftology to mean what it takes for a team to make the playoffs, or to end up in the lottery. But what if you are a team with a finger in both pies-that is to say, what if you’re playing or observing games that have implications not just for making the playoffs but also for your draft position (and where you slot from not making the lottery does not count)?

I came up with this while thinking about the implications of the Stons-Magic game last week. So many delicious subplots:

a) Detroit trying to clinch home court throughout the Eastern playoffs

b) Orlando trying to make the playoffs

c) if Orlando makes the playoffs and ends up in the 8 spot, they play Detroit

d) if Orlando does or does not make the playoffs, and their draft pick is not in the top 5, it goes to Detroit per Darko Milicic trade last year

So, basically I’ve been rooting for Indy to steamroll their way to the playoffs and for Orlando to fall out. Unfortunately, this didn’t happen, but wouldn’t it be cool if there was a tool out there that tracked the needs of teams to make the playoffs, get a lottery pick, and the intersection of the two when teams are owed draft picks from other teams? Something that showed all potential scenarios?

If anybody out there is interested in partnering with me and mine to create playdraftology.com, holla holla. I believe that the logo will involve Nancy Kerrigan’s knee.