Archive for March, 2009

She’s able to keep down food (and her medicine).

Her calcium levels went coo-coo bananas and shot up to 12.something, which we hope is the work of her parathyroids (two get damaged in surgery and the other two went into shock because of all the pushin’ and pullin’ required to remove her ginormous thyroid).

There’s a decent chance that she’ll be OK and released tomorrow, but there’s also a solid chance that she’ll have to stay another night.

My concentration is in the toilet, I’m tired and I just want to be able to stroke my wife’s hair when she tosses and turns in her sleep. It isn’t that I fear for her health; I have total faith that she is getting solid care from the doctors and nurses there (though I have been witness to some jaw-dropping incompetence there, too – the second time I had to bring a nurse over to show them that no one had ever started my wife’s IV — including the person who set it up, “made sure it was going” and left — forever shattered my rosy view of the staff). But I have never seen her in pain like she was this morning. She was truly miserable. And the helplessness and fear that I went through (though far from close to Teresa’s) were phenomenally depressing. Or, they would have been if I actually liked her.

But I can still see her smile from when I left tonight (and not because I left tonight, Shecky) and I just know that my little trooper will see this obstacle through, just as she has every other shitty roadblock life has thrown her way. She’ll come out of the experience stronger, tougher and with that adorable smile.

OK. I need (to try to) sleep.

Much love, peeps (from me and the sickie-pants).

Turn for the worse, back we go.

I may have to go on an extended hiatus.

Car service is on the way – I’ll let you all know what’s happening as soon as we do.

Thank you again, etc., etc.

We are back in Brooklyn and beginning the decompression.

I think I’m going to spend some quality time with my wife now.

If I get around to a legit post today, hooray. If not, double the fun tomorrow.

But we’re both too gayballs and weepy right now for me to concentrate on anything except the woman I love and maybe an episode or two of South Park.

Thank you all again for the love and support.

(the title is there to remind me to make sure Teresa tells you all about her LHH roommate)

Her calcium levels have spiked up today and it look like she may finally be granted the sweet release of… release.

(memo to self: find thesaurus)

Another day with the folks (watching two more NCAA games, but it made Dad happy, so I didn’t even scowl once), another day meeting more Lenox Hill employees that further restore my faith in humanity.

I left early tonight so that I could eat with the folks and get a ride home (Teresa had a couple of friends coming by to say a quick hello so I knew she wouldn’t be alone until the end of visiting hours). Jacques’ Brasserie makes a mean Crispy Skin Trout with White Polenta, but I have to admit liking the Windsor Cafe’s French onion soup better (at half the price!).

I had intermittent napping last night and overslept this morning — I cannot stop yawning and I just want to sleep. But a cyber-promise is a cyber-promise.

Hopefully the Mrs. will return to gen-pop (aka the outside world) in less than 24 hours. That’s d be great.

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Dear Brooklyn Senator Marty Golden,

I understand that you are feverishly drafting legislation to submit to Albany this week. The legislation seeks to permanently change the name of One World Trade Center to The Freedom Tower. I feel like this is a knee-jerk reaction on your behalf, to what really isn’t that big of a deal. So I jotted down some knee-kerk reactions to reading about your bill.

1) Millions of people refer to (the previous) Yankee Stadium as “The House That Ruth Built” even though its mailing address has always remained Yankee Stadium. Do you call it “1600 Pennsylvania Avenue” or “The White House”? Let the building’s owners call it whatever they want to. And then let the public majority decide what we know it as.

2) Is it just me or is it kind of disturbing to think that, where once the two tallest buildings in the world stood as the World Trade Center, there will now stand one tall building known as “One World Trade Center”? If this one gets blown up will we rename Ground Zero “None World Trade Center”?

3) While I applaud your efforts to cross party lines to find support for this initiative, Marty, I do kind of feel that Republicans need to cross party lines on issues that actually affect the entire country — not just on their own glorified vanity projects. Maybe once our soldiers are home from the TWO WARS they’re fighting and maybe once the thousands and thousands of families that are newly bankrupt and/or jobless after Madoff and Stanford and Adler, et al, maybe then we can call French fries “freedom fries” and we’ll sell them in the Freedom Tower where “Freedom” by George Michael will play on a loop in the Freedom Tower Gift Shop of Freedom and Freedom Freedom Freedom in the Freedom!

Sincerely,

Eric Lindberg

P.S. – Are you really Brooklyn Senator Marty Golden?

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Does someone have a tape of Joe Biden’s youngest (Ashley, 27) doing lines of cocaine at a party? His lawyer says yes.

He wants $2,000,000.

He’s been offered $250,000.

$2 says it isn’t her.

B’also? The Bush twins were alcoholic whores (alcowhorelics?) and they got a kind of free pass. Roger Clinton lived in a dumpster and aspired to fart the alphabet just once before he died (or to eat a meal intended specifically for him and not cobbled together from leftovers and garbage) and Bill wasn’t crucified for it. Heck, George H.W. Bush had a retarded son who once owned the Texas Rangers (whatever happened to him?). So let’s not jump on the VP’s social-worker daughter just yet, k?

Thnx.

UPDATE: The lawyer of the guy who is trying to sell the tape just quit. LESS THAN A DAY AFTER THE STORY BROKE. So, if you hear any bloviating douchebag on Fox say that “we don’t know if the tape is real” to cast further aspersions on Ashley Biden, please remember that they the guy who was guaranteed a thick percentage of the selling price just walked away.

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Kenley Collins moved out of her(ex-)boyfriend’s apartment. Or, as the Post’s headline says,

Cat hurler meow-ves out

See what they did there?

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Is the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade being marched away from Broadway? Maybe!

I live in Brooklyn now! Yo no care!

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http://www.nypost.com/seven/03292009/news/regionalnews/nyu_dorms_hidden_pot_fantasyland_161900.htm

Paraphrasing wouldn’t do it justice. Some NYU students cut a hole in their wardrobe and made an alcove they called Narnia where people could swing by and get stoned. The article is written by Annie Karni (who I’m assuming is a great-grandmother), and includes factoids like, “The dorm’s latest hippie hangouts are the ‘Green Room’ and the ‘Lounge,’ according to students.

In the extended version of the article (which is available only in my head), Annie explains that she formed a real bond with the two NYU students who gave her the names of not only the latest hippie hangouts, but also the biggest pot dealers at NYU. “So, consider your days numbered, Heywood Jafingermyass and Mike Hunt-Isacauldronofdisease.”

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Page Six (on page 12 today) nforms us that Phil Donahue and Marlo Thomas each used a little flashlight to read the menu at Bella Blu. So… they’re old. Great. Thanks.

What next? Hume Cronyn Gold Bond Powders his sac before bed?

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Some fat women pointed at Richard Simmons in Miami International Airport, so he sang “Single Ladies” by Beyonce and they clapped and I’m so glad I wasn’t there.

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Cindy Adams has amassed the world’s shittiest collection of IRS jokes. Included are such zingareenos as, “Look, a reason there isn’t enough funding to go around is because there’s just too many special interests. I mean, a lobby for Short Trannies With Head Colds in Great Neck? Seems to me frivolous.”

“Moses came down from Mt. Sinai with two tablets. One was the Ten Commandments. The other? His expense account.”

“Washington could easily balance the federal budget. All they have to do is close 27 states.”

Please get in the box.

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I love the British.

Someone broke into Les Smith’s historic pub and painted the entire place pink.

When interviewed, Les said, “I’m annoyed and it’s inconvenient, but they’ve done a proper job.”

Adorable.

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Is Italy the new Japan?

The University of Bologna has invented a vending machine that will make (and cook) a pizza from scratch in under 3 minutes.

It’s called Let’s Pizza.

Why not?

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The Post warns that without the tax incentives, most TV shows will pull up stakes and film elsewhere.

Shows like Flight of the Conchords. Which, according to one of the two leads, is ending with this season.

Why do I know more about this shit than reporters?

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In 2007, over 4,000,000 children were born in the United States.

Seriously, we have to solder Octomom’s vagina shut.

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Debra Burlingame, your brother (the pilot of Flight 77 who was killed on 9/11) was a true hero. And your pain is unfathomable. But your recent quote about One World Trade Center needs to be addressed.

“If we can’t say the word ‘freedom’ out loud, God help us.”

I will assume that you said this out loud and that the lack of ellipses and stutter-stops signifies that you were fully capable of saying “freedom” without God’s help.

Seriously, folks, it isn’t being named Hug An Arab Plaza or One They Should Have Run Faster Down The Stairs Center. It’s the old name (sorta). Say freedom all you want. Rename things freedom. Buy a bird, call him freedom.

But shut up about the WTC. I’m still not sure the fucker will ever actually be rebuilt (especially not in time for Apocalypto!).

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56% of New York City residents polled are Yankees fans and 33% Mets fans. In fact, IN QUEENS the Yankees top the Mets 46% to 43%.

Is it because of the 2007/2008 back-to-back megachokes? Nick? Mookie? Anyone?

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How bad is the economy?

AdWeek, BrandWeek and MediaWeek are going to merge into one single publication (most likely AdWeek).

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I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. HOW bad is the economy?

A teacher in Pocatello, Idaho figured out a way to save his school $315 in paper purchases. He got his class a sponsor.

Molto Caldo Pizzeria.

In exchange for purchasing the paper for the classroom, the pizza place got to print (in bright red one-inch letters)

MOLTO’S PIZZA 14″ 1 TOPPING JUST $5

on the bottom of every page.

What year was Mike Judge’s Idiocracy set in?

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“Is it good when banks buy each other? They make it sound like the most natural thing in the world: ‘Wachovia… now part of Wells Fargo! WaMu… now part of Chase!’ But to me, that just sounds like, ‘Poland… now part of Germany!’” – Larry Miller

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“I’m bringing a civil rights case against Bernie Madoff. How are you gonna steal $100,000,000,000, but not a dime from Black people. That’s just racist.” - Dick Gregory

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“I was thinking about truth or dare, and what the first dare was. I bet it was a cave man daring a cave woman to throw a burning stick at a monster. And I bet she was like, ‘Fine, truth.’ And I bet he was like, ‘OK. What’s your biggest fantasy?’ And I bet she was like, ‘Agriculture.’” – Eugene Mirman

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Good night, ever’buddy!

…Then They Lowered Again Just Now.

If her parathyroids would pick up the fucking slack and do what they’re supposed to, the prognosis would be superb! Sigh. She’s a super trooper, though. She’ll be fine.

Me and the folks will return tomorrow for more bedside fun (though I really hope there isn’t any college basketball on. What the f, Dad. Seriously. Boston University, Skidmore and Hunter are not playing. It’s not like you even have an NBA team that you root for. Your watching NCAA basketball is a little too much like wanting to hang out near a playground even though you don’t have a kid (or a lifted restraining order).

Totally kidding – we both adore my (our) folks and couldn’t ask for more caring and/or generous parental units.

That being said, enough with the sweaty teenaged boys and their ball-slapping, yo.

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The Fat Reverend Fat Al Sharpton (looking more like Rangel every day!) owed the IRS over $1,800,000.

Last summer, he settled with the Treasury Department in exchange for them ending their various investigations into his finances.

And what did he pay them?

$1,000,000.

I wonder if I can tell the IRS that I want to pay half my taxes in exchange for them not making sure I don’t owe them more money…

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Researchers at Queen’s University in Belfast have discovered that crabs and crustaceans can feel pain – and also remember it and try to avoid it.

“What do you do for a living?”

“Research.”

“What kind?”

“Medical.”

“Oh! What area? Fatal diseases?”

“No. I work with shellfish.”

“Really? In what respect?”

“I and my colleagues have spent years trying to figure out whether or not a lobster can feel pain…”

“They can. That’s why they scream in the boiling water.”

“…but just recently, we had a major breakthrough!”

“Let me guess: Butter makes them more delicious?”

“No, they feel pain AND remember the pain AND go out of their way to avoid it further!”

“Is this research funded?”

“Yes, at Queen’s College!”

“And what purpose does the research ultimately have?”

“Well, now that we know crabs are more human, crazy people can start throwing paint on Will McLaughlin at his annual crab party!”

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Rapper T.I. got a year and a day in prisizzon.

Fun fact: the extra day makes him eligible for parole WHENEVER! And if he was sentenced for a year? NO PAROLE WHATSOEVER!

The fact that his sentence was extended by 24 hours virtually guarantees he will spend LESS time in the Big House than if it remained one year.

The system is ridiculous.

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ShamWow? More like ShamWhatTheFuckYouCrazyHookerLetGoOfMyTongue!

Vince Shlomi (more like Vince Here’s-$1,000-To-Blow-Me!), 44 (more like For-The-Whore!), is that elven weirdo that yells at you on TV about how the Sham-Wow can soak soda through carpet and it’s orange and hooray. He also sells the Slap Chop (this will become even funnier in a sec). Last month, he paid a woman of ill repute and loose morals/genitals$1,000 to go back to his place for a little in-n-out burger (hold the burger).

But once the 4:00 a.m. boinking was about to start, Shlomi (the money!) claims the who-er (one Sasha Lenea Harris) “bit his tongue and wouldn’t let go.”

So Vince punched Sasha until she let go of his tongue. Both were arrested for felony aggravated battery, but prosecutors declined to file charges.

The system is ridiculous. Luckily karma exists to fill the void of injustice.

“What if I told you I could make your annoying pitchman go from looking like this…

…to looking like this…

…HOW MUCH WOULD YOU PAY?

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My BPF does it again.

He and his administration have imposed an average 30.2-miles-per-gallon standard for passenger cars (up from 27.5).

Is legislation supposed to give you a boner?

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Willie Aames, former star of Eight Is Enough, Charles In Charge, Bibleman, one of those Celebrity Trainwreck Shows on VH1 and Zapped! (though not necessarily in that order), had a yard sale on Thursday at his home in Kansas. He was hoping to raise enough money to stop an impeding foreclosure on his house.

The Post’s headline? Hey, is $8 enough for this junk?

See what they did there?

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The idiot who drove his truck (WHICH HAD A RAISED CRANE ON IT) through the sign on the Whitestone Bridge, shutting down traffic for hours in both directions is a contractor.

Who would hire a contractor like this – the kind of guy who doesn’t notice his crane is extended (if you know what I mean) and fucks up New Yorkers’ ability to travel?

The MTA, naturally.

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Madonna is a genius. She is constantly re-inventing herself with different personae – never the same one twice, always giving fans the unexpected. So what would be more unexpected than her repeating herself?

She’ll be in Malawi again this weekend to adopt Mercy James, whose parents Madonna says are both dead (The Associated Press says the father is alive).

Genius.

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You’re straight-up kosher. You want straight-up tequila. But what can you do?

99-proof kosher tequila is on the way! Look for Agave 99 in stores for Cinco de May-oy.

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Why isn’t Josef Fritzl doggie-paddling in a 5-mile-deep septic tank yet?

Naturally, an Austrian magazine interviewed him and gave this subhuman scum a chance to defend himself, further dishonoring his daughter (who he raped an estimated 3,000 times over 24 years), THEIR seven children (and the eighth who died in the cellar) and whatever passes for God in Austria.

“I tried to make life in the cellar as pleasant as possible for my second family.”

How anyone could sit in a room with this fuck and not jump across the table when he said that…

“Forget it, Jed. It’s Austria.”

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Ralph Peters believes that Obama is a clone of LBJ.

I believe Ralph Peters is a clone of poo.

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Brian Bruney saw Brett Gardner chatting with reporters in the back of the Yankees’ clubhouse yesterday. So he walked over and asked, “Did you just get cut?”

Gardner smiled and mentioned Bruney’s inability to strike out Matt Stairs.

I’ve had a crush of Gardner for a while (and I think he’s gonna be our muthafuckin’ center fielder, yo!). Add Bruney to the list.

Start! Baseball! Season! Now!

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Oh, and last night? Mariano pitched the ninth. He retired one batter with a three-pitch strikeout.

Guess how many pitches he needed for the other two batters.

Two.

(waves miniature Yankees pennant)

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ABC is making Ben Hur into a four-hour, $22,500,000 mini-series.

Steve Shill will direct. If you’re unfamiliar with Mr. Shill’s work, you can check it out in theaters everywhere this April.

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AND HE DOES IT UNDER THE WIRE!

I told Teresa that I dont ever want to skip a day. I want to make sure that the calendar on the right side of the site is always full of goodies for you. So I raced the clock to post today’s entry. And it ain’t midnight yet.

Boom.

See you tomorrow!

FREE

DUMB

TOWER

I’ll take it! Oh. Tis is the Post’s way of telling us that the Freedom Tower at Ground Zero will no longer be called the Freedom Tower. It will now be forevermore known as One World Trade Center.

Oh, well. I guess the terrorists win.

No. Wait. That’s not what I meant. What I meant is, I don’t care.

They should have rebuilt them exactly as they were.

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Except for the burning airplanes sticking out of the side.

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Too soon?

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According to Michael Riedel, the Spider-Man musical will feature the Green Goblin, Carnage, Electro, Rhino, Swarm and the Lizard.

Swarm? The Nazi made of bees? Are they going to use the only line (one word – his name!) he had on the old cartoon?

Did I mention what a terrible idea this is?

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Iranian researchers say that drinking scalding hot tea may cause throat cancer.

Great job, guys.

Please let us know if dropping bowling balls on your feet causes any diseases.

Kthnxbi.

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Teresa? Cross Brazil off the list.

President of Brazil Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva gave a press conference in Brasilia yesterday with British Prime Minister Gordon Brown. During the chat, Luiz explained to Gordon that the world’s financial crisis was caused by “white people with blue eyes.” He went on to explain, “I am not acquainted with a single Black banker.”

Of course they don’t become bankers! They’ve been bred for athletics, silly!

Fun fact: Luiz was once a lathe operator!

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That British 12-year-old who thought he got his 15-year-old girlfriend pregnant? Well, the Brits gave him a paternity test and, in the case of Maisie Steadman, Alfie? You are NOT the father.

He was probably too mature to breakdance when he found out, though.

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About 18 months ago, the NYPD shut down their highly successful Vice Squad operations on Craigslist. No one seems to know why.

Gee, you think maybe George Weber’s family might sue the NYPD?

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Oh, New Jersey. You so ridiculous.

A 14-year-old girl posted nude photos of herself online, so the Passaic County Sheriff’s Office is using Megan’s Law to charge her as (and force her to register as) a sex offender.

The mother of the Megan in the title of the law is absolutely outraged.

Me, too!

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Oh, Boston. You make New Jersey seem like Xanadu.

The headmaster of the Boston Latin School sent a notice to teachers, students and parents denying that vampires were roaming the campus.

Apparently, the rumors were becoming more and more of a distraction in the classrooms.

Retahded.

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Rihanna got a small gun tattoo on her right side.

This was on the front page today.

I hate the Post.

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Charles “I’m Begging You To Make Me” Hurt ends his latest wank-piece with, “Surveying the political landscape here today, Obama is thinking of that adage cherished by cutthroats everywhere. If you and a buddy are walking in the woods and encounter a hungry, angry bear, you don’t have to outrun the bear, You simply have to outrun your buddy.

I’m guessing Chuck doesn’t have a lot of buddies. And those he has? Every one of them is faster than he is.

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Nicolas Cage is filming The Sorcerer’s Apprentice in Park Slope. And the photo of him as… whatever he is… looks like Bob Dylan as Ghost Rider.

Nic? Why not just take your sushi waitress, buy an island and let us try to remember why we once liked you in peace? Please?

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A state appeals court has ruled that you can commit a hate crime against a building.

I read about swastikas on synagogues almost every week — if this will help put the assholes that do that away for a slightly longer time, then I’m for it.

But, would 9/11 also count?

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Miguel Tejada has been sentenced to one year of probation for lying to Congress.

And yet W. hasn’t even been formally charged yet.

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Jason Savage, 29, was arrested at a car wash in Saginaw, Michigan.

Witnesses called police once they realized he was fucking one of the vacuums.

Teresa? Cross Michigan off the list.

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A housing project in Britain has had pink bulbs installed in their public lamps, in hopes that it will cut down on the packs of teens that routinely loiter.

The logic behind the pink lights making teens disperse? Pink light makes acne stand out more.

With teeth like that, you think some pimples are going to frighten away British teenagers?

Freshen yer drink, guv’nah?

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Adam Brodsky wants to know Why Is the Prez Snuffing Out Hope?

Do you remember when video rental stores were a new thing? You’d drive half an hour to the only one in town and you’d walk around the aisles looking for something that grabbed you? And then you’d see the box for a movie that — even though you had no idea what you were actually looking for — was the textbook example of what you weren’t looking for, and could therefore move on to another box?

That’s what Adam Brodsky’s piece made me think of.

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Bill O’Reilly explains why Fox News has increased viewership since “the Democratic takeover in Washington” — he calls it “the remorse factor.”

I don’t think he’s kidding, either.

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Anybody else feel like the folks behind 12 Rounds missed out on a golden opportunity to incorporate the 12 labors of Hercules into the script? I know the target audience is stupid, but even so. Isn’t 12 Labors just as good a title, if not more accurate?

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Dan Aquilante’s review of Morrissey’s Webster Hall show: No hope in mope pope

(He didn’t like it.)

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Jeter THEN Damon?

Either this will destroy a no-brainer batting order or this is the start of a beautiful season.

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The advertising agency hired to come up with a new branding initiative for the Sci-Fi Channel has gone public with their reasoning behind the change to SyFy.

“While we’d love to take credit for all the branding initiatives our clients take on, we just can’t. SyFy was a name generated internally and pre-tested at the channel before our involvement.”

“I believe it was one of Whistler’s.”

“You bastard.”

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Hopefully, I’m gonna go take m’wife home!

Happy Impending Weekend!

En route to the hospital yesterday, I happened to pass a ticket booth in my local subway station. Written on the whiteboard (or is it “wipe board”?) in giant letters was:

F NORMAL SERVICE

Amen, sister.

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In France, a group of laid off 3M workers has taken their boss hostage in the hopes that they will be able to negotiate a better severance package.

And, according to the Post, “It’s the second so-called ‘bossnapping’ in a week.”

B’also? The Post goes on to explain that the second case of “bossnapping” occured, “two weeks ago in the South of France.”

Great job, guys.

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A public school principal in Riverdaleis being accused of leading members of his staff in “Buddhist hate chants” against other members of his staff.

Granted, I don’t know much about Buddhism, but I’m pretty sure the thing on page one of the novelization is that hate is the opposite of Buddhism. But what do I know? I’m a non-practicing Jew.

Mazel tov.

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Three weeks ago, Cook County Sheriff Thomas Dart declared, “Craigslist is the single largest source of prostitution in the nation.”

No shit, Sheriff.

According to the Post (and, really, when are they ever wrong about anything?), yesterday alone saw hundreds of new ads on the NY Craigslist board from people “seeking everything from casual gay sex (editor’s note: is there any other kind?) to more kinky encounters – with many illegally asking for payment.”

Next they’ll be telling us that some of the people that place and answer those ads aren’t who they claim to be!

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Like, frinstance, John Katehis (is his middle initial is D, you can mix the letters up to make Jon D. Shithead!), 16, of Queens. He answered an ad placed by ABC News Radio’s George Weber. John, who is an admitted “Satan-worshipper” (What does that even mean nowadays? Big Rosemary’s Baby fan, is he?), claims that he was high on cocaine and vodka when he saw Weber freeing himself from the duct tape that John had consensually wrapped his legs in. John panicked and grabbed the knife, stabbed George twice and ran away.

The only minor discrepancy the po-po has? Weber was stabbed over 50 times in the neck.

And you know who would be perfect to play John in a TV movie? Lillo Brancato, Jr. They could be brothers!

I wonder what Lillo’s up to nowadays…

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Oh, Andrea Peyser.

Her column chronicles her efforts to get Nancy “I’m Doing a Beatle!” Shevell (as she calls her) to answer some questions about her missing the recent Finance Committee vote. Shevell eventually snaps at her that she “spoke publicly about it,” which Peyser admits confused her, as she wasn’t aware of any statements Shevell had made. And then Shevell entered an elevator and security blocked Peyser from following.

“Other board members congregated in the hallway, begging to be interviewed. But what could they say?”

That’s what I call great journalism.

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And speaking of great journalism, this made me laugh out loud. There’s a giant two-page spread on the fare hikes. Different people are explaining what sacrifices they’ll make to swallow the hikes. Their photo is accompanied by the categories: Name, Commute, Cost, Sacrifice, Reaction.

The “infrastructure banker” from the Upper West Side says he’ll have one les beer a week. I want to punch him.

But the money quote isn’t attributable to any civilian. This is pure Post.

For Long Island life coach Barbara Frankel (whose photo alone is worth 50 cents), her “Cost” is described as follows:

“Buys a $20 MetroCard (which will cost the same, but provide nine instead of 10 rides)”

Well, at least it hasn’t gone up in price!

Wait.

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Laura Ling and Euna Lee got equal billing today! And no mention of Lisa! Or what’s being done about the kidnapping!

But the article directly above theirs mentions that North Korea is gearing up to launch a Taepodong-2 over Japan.

Can a nation be an attention whore?

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Oh, please attack her on this, Rush.

Hillary Clinton went to Mexico and explained that Americans buying illegal drugs from Mexico is partially to blame for the increase in violence on the border. And the Post begins their article with, “Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton yesterday blamed America’s ‘insatiable demand’ for illicit drugs for an increase in violence along the Mexican border.”

Once again, if you read further along, you find the quotes of hers that contradict the topic sentence (or at least, its implications). In fact, paragraph 3 is just one sentence: “‘I feel very strongly we have a co-responsibility,’ Clinton told reporters traveling with her.”

Great job, guys.

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Cloris Leachman’s new memoir will include tidbits about her one-night stand with Gene Hackman (“I haven’t seen Gene since that night, but I remember well the feisty lad he was.”), and her almost-affairs with Ed Asner and Andy Williams (sadly, not at the same time).

Cloris hits stores next week.

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In today’s economy, every penny counts.

So much so, that Elizabeth Arden (creator of the White Diamonds perfume that Elizabeth Taylor spoke-sells) is calling beauty magazines and asking if they will offer them a bereavement rate if Ms. Taylor dies this year.

Super classy.

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Oh no! The winner of “Paris Hilton’s My New BFF” has lost her diary! And she’s telling everyone that she needs it back because there’s like SO MUCH top secret stuff in there! She needs it back! Help!

Remember when Paris Hilton did the same thing a few years ago?

If Cindy Adams makes room in the box, can we put both of these skanks in there with her?

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Director Fred “Remember Limp Bizkit?” Durst describes his next film (Psycho Killer) as “not a throwaway, quick-fix slasher film — it’s like Silence of the Lambs.”

Which would make him… Johnathan Dummy?

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Kenley Collins has announced that she didn’t throw her cat at her boyfriend; she lightly tossed the cat onto the bed so as to free up her arms so she could throw other things at him.

Go away.

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Kobe Bryant’s maid is suing him and his wife for “emotional distress.”

Hey, at least he didn’t rape you.

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Wesley Snipes went to a party in Dubai in November. He didn’t get permission from the po-po.

Now federal prosecutors in Florida want to revoke Snipes’ bail.

They may not be able to jump, but these white men might just take Wesley to the hole (if you feel me).

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There are so many gerbils in China that forestry officials have begun scattering abortion pills near their burrows.

They got the idea from how they deal with their human population.

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A Grand Rapids (Michigan) minor-league baseball has added a new burger to their ballpark menu.

The Fifth Third Burger (http://bensbiz.mlblogs.com/Fifth%20Third%20Burger.JPG) is five burgers, five slices of cheese, a cup of chili, some salsa and some corn chips. It’s 4 pounds and 4,800 calories. It costs $20, but if you finish it, you get a free t-shirt (and, one woud assume, a free ride to the hospital).

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A Manhattan judge has decided that keeping over 1,000,000 pages of 9/11 documents secret is a good idea.

The families that have been begging for their release for the last 7+ years disagree.

Somewhere, some terrorists are chuckling about this.

---

Medical examiners are now warning that a state funding cut will severely slow down their turnaround time. This isn’t good news for Jews and Muslims who require expeditious burials (because the man in the clouds says so!).

Remember what happened when just a couple of them found out the hot dog wasn’t kosher? This is gonna be a lot bigger.

---

Let’s go to the New York Post mailbag, shall we?

“I am so sick of ‘The Obama Show.’

Less than six months off the campaign trail, and Obama misses the appeal of an audience so much that he has to do his ’stand-up’ on TV.

What’s next? ‘Vanna, are there an vowels for Mr. Obama?’ or ‘Dancing with Cheryl tonight will be the president of the United States’?

Maybe Obama should just go right to ‘American Idol’ and let Simon have his say.”

Deborah Fleming of Lavallette, NJ

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Looks like Deborah isn’t alone.

According to Nielsen, 40,000,000 people watched Obama on Tuesday night. 49,500,000 tuned in on February 9th.

17,000,000 watched him on 60 Minutes, but only 8,900,000 watched him on Leno.

Actually? I’ll bet Deborah is alone. But other people share her opinion.

---

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go buy today’s paper.

Before I drift off to Sleepytown, I decided to check my various electronic mailboxes and found a sweet note from Rich about Teresa and a link to the video below. I am going to buy an iPod just to load the audio of this and it will be the only song I ever listen to again.

God bless Rich Talarico.

God bless Gerry (Jerry) Phillips.

God bless America.

(waves miniature American flag for Mac)

…and our football team.” – Ben Folds

I read the whole dang paper today, but decided against lugging my pute-pute to LHH. And after another day of bedside mannerisms, I have just returned home. After I post this (and finish wiping) I am going to go to bed.

Teresa is still in the hospital (her calcium levels weren’t returning to normal so more tinkering is necessary — but this is normal and no reason for any concern at all) and I will return at 11:00 tomorrow (which means leaving here at 9:00 at the latest), so I am opting for sleep whilst I may.

I’m-a set m’alarm for early (ish) and try to deliver a 1-2 punch of Post snarkings from today and tomorrow.

Can it be done? I dunno. But this shit is free for you, so mind your peas and queues.

And enjoy this recent Sarah Palin speech. She still doesn’t speak English well but, man, does she not speak English well (yes).

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/03/26/palin-sounds-off-on-media_n_179406.html

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

It is 6:19 a.m.

Getting here was far more of a pain in the ass than expected. We left at 4:30 a.m., hopped an F at 4:40, decided to switch to an A at Jay St., realized what a misstep that was by 5:00, got on another F, got out at 14th, caught a bus to Union Square, went down into the subway, saw that the entrance we stood in front of was closed, went back outside, crossed the street, went back down, caught a 6 and go to the hospital at 6:00 a.m.

And now Teresa is somewhere inside and I wait in the waiting area (I wonder if that’s how it got its name…), trying to locate wireless internet (no dice).

ABC Eyewitness News is playing on a flat-screened plasma TV above me and it reminds me what a festival of asshats network news has become. Like most everything else in this country, network news has to be sold to its audience. It isn’t enough to have good reporters covering good stories (that’s not even a requirement anymore) – you need to have smiling happy robots bantering casually and wittily and delivering their sound bites with their heads tilted just so.

Someone got kicked off of Dancing With the Stars last night and they’re treating the impending revelation like it’s the Colonel’s secret recipe (incidentally, it’s black pepper, flour, paprika, mustard seed, garlic salt, onion powder, molasses, animal shortening and a touch of honey and parmesan cheese — you’re welcome).

Oh no! It was Denise Richards! Colon! Now what will she do?

Dennis Quaid (who kinda/sorta played President Bush in American Dreamz) and Julianne Moore (who isn’t blonde, short or homely) are playing Bill and Hillary Clinton in an upcoming horrible idea. I mean biopic. Peter Morgan will write it (if it’s half as good as his Frost/Nixon, maybe half as many people will see it – what’s half of 3?).

This is disjointedly written because: 1) in solidarity with Teresa, I haven’t eaten or had coffee yet today – I’ll grab something when she’s in surgery and WHEN STORES ARE OPEN; 2) there is a fat Asian lady who keeps reading over my shoulder and it’s throwing me off my game (yeah, I called you fat, Asian lady – if you don’t like it, stop reading over my shoulder.); 3) I hate hospitals; 4) I usually have a newspaper, not a collection of voiceovers.

I’m waiting to be let in to see Teresa one more time before surgery (which is scheduled for 7:30), so I don’t want to get a paper or a cup of coffee just yet.

Last night we went to Chip Shop on 5th. Ironically, the fish (in the fish & chips) was the weakest part of the meal (the batter was a little too thick and sweet-flavored), but everything else was amazing.  Fizzy Ribenas, fried macaroni & cheese, baked beans on toast and fish & chips – heart attack? Eventually. Deliciousness? Immediately. Best fries in Brooklyn (besides Nathan’s).  I wanted to try the “Twice-Fried Cherry Pie” but the NY Department of Health no longer allows Chip Shop to sell it. I would have also liked to try a fried Twinkie or fried Snickers, but we were both so full after dinner, we briefly considered throwing up in the street (and going back for dessert). Instead, we went home, curled up in bed and made it an early night (but not early enough, it would seem – I need some coffee so badly right now). I’ve known it for over five years now: I am the luckiest man in the world. Still need steady work, and I haven’t found that garbage bag full of money yet, but I have the most incredible wife/best friend/pet monkey and I can’t wait to feed her sorbet.

“G-A-W-J-U-S” is how the Eyewitness News anchor just described the photo they are (I assume) showing of today’s sunset. He felt it necessary to spell it out first.

P.S. – Two wars, life-changing economic crisis, MTA fare hike, Lisa Ling’s sister.

---

It is 8:10 a.m.

I saw Teresa (who is in excellent spirits, thanks to her legions of friends) and met her ana… anea… anaethe… the lady who will gas her, her nurse (who is a man and whose name will make any longtime fan of this blog cackle) and the nurse manager, all of whom radiated warmth and intelligence. It was almost enough to make me not hate hospitals. As much.

The operation, which should be under way as I type this, is expected to last 4 hours (though some last 3, some 6).

I am in a Starbucks on 78th and Lexington. The “artisan roll sandwich” I just scarfed down had the soggiest most uncooked bacon on it that I’ve ever had the displeasure of scarfing. Nice Gouda, though.

And as I sip the gargantuan coffee in front of me, I fondly recall the first time I tried one of these newfangled coffee shops. It was Chicago in 1997.  As I’ve mentioned before, Genealogy rehearsed (fairly) early every Saturday morning, and I usually occupied a stool at the counter of the S& P from 8:00-9:00.

Except on this particular day, I overslept. It was 8:45 and I was naked. So I hurriedly dressed and ran down Arlington Place to the Clark Street bus stop. Clark (like most streets in Chicago) was a flat line. If you stood in the middle of the road, you could see a bus coming from miles away. But I didn’t. On a good day, you would catch a bus within 5 minutes. This wasn’t a good day.

My main concern was that I needed coffee. Being surrounded by my closest friends and doing improv and laughing should be enough to keep a strapping young lad awake. But it wasn’t then and it isn’t now (at least, for me). So, while I panicked about being late (and I didn’t have no cellie back then!), I noticed I was standing in front of a Seattle’s Best Coffee. As a New Yorker, I have always preferred getting my coffee from a deli. You know, where the cups have the Greek columns on them? But I didn’t have much of a choice.

I entered and looked at the menu. It was all I could do to not scream “What the fuck?!?” when my cashier (I didn’t yet know the word “barista”) asked me if I wanted to try the coffee of the day, which was Ethiopian Raspberry. Why would anyone that finds raspberries in one of the globe’s most notoriously impoverished countries even briefly consider mixing them into coffee? Feed them to people as raspberries, dummy!

“No, thanks, let me just get a large coffee.”
“We don’t have large.”
“Then a medium.”
“We don’t have medium, either, sir. We have tall, grande and venti.”
“You have what?”
“Instead of small, medium and large, we have tall, grande and venti.”
“So venti means large?”
“Yes.”
“Venti is what you want customers to say when they want a large coffee, even though you know exactly what they mean when they say large?”
(uncomfortable pause)
“Give me a venti coffee, please.”
“One venti. And what kind of coffee would you like?”
“Coffee.”
“Yes, sir, but would you like Sumatran Dark or perhaps our new house blend which has hints of…”
“I’m sorry. Do you have a pot of coffee in the back that the employees drink? Like Maxwell House or Folgers? I want that. I want coffee that comes from a bag with nothing written on it except COFFEE.”
(even more uncomfortable pause)
“How about the house blend?”
“Is there fruit in it? Does it come from Africa, Europe or Asia? I mean, I can get on board the unnecessarily Italian bandwagon and call my large a venti, if you insist, but I have to insist on coffee-flavored coffee.”

The house blend (which I was assured was “regular”) tasted like burned hats. I never went back to that SBC.

Years later, I sit in a Starbucks burping raw bacon as I sip my large coffee (I still order it that way wherever I go and – zoot allors! – not a single barista or counter-jockey anywhere has ever corrected me.

And Starbucks coffee tastes like burned hats.

---

Bloomberg’s Chayefsky quote made the front page (as did Day 20 of the Countess Divorce which really needs to go away – though thank you for the mental picture of a fairly attractive 36-year-old trying repeatedly to initiate sex with her 66-year-old hubby).

GET MAD! Call up pols NOW to halt fare hike: Mike

“I would suggest, when you see what’s going to happen to your commuting costs, you should call your state legislators and say, ‘I’m mad as Hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore.” Now, Armond White, would you like to reconsider how “politically glib” you believe Network is? Moron.

*****ADDENDUM***** Look in the letters page of the new issue of the New York Press. I like the way that Resnik guy thinks!

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The Yankees just bought the rest of Yankee Stadium. They already owned the grass, the dirt, the lockers, the outfield walls and the bases. Now (after a $10,000,000+ payout) they also own the foul poles, the seats, the dugouts and the urinals. And now they are passing this future debris onto you, the fan! Incidentally, the only seats left for Opening Day are in the $900 – $2,600 range.

Not even if I got sit in Jeter’s lap.

---

Not every abusive spouse is Chris Brown. Some of them are Helen Sun. She wanted to reconcile with her estranged husband, so she handcuffed himself to her (while he slept) and locked the bedroom door so he couldn’t escape. And bit him. A lot. They’ve been married for eight years. Methinks a ninth anniversary will not be celebrated.

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More great news about the MTA’s fare hikes! Here’s the calendar of events:

In late April, LIRR service to Belmont Park will be eliminated (days before racing season begins! NICE!). In mid-May, Metro-North riders who buy their tickets online will start paying higher prices. May 31st is when the fares officially increase. Metro-North an the LIRR will charge more starting June 1st. Bridges and tunnels get fare increases in July, dozens of bus routes get cut or eliminated by summer and by fall/winter, the G and M will be severely cut and the W and Z will be eliminated.

Keep up the diminishing returns, you miserable bastards!

---

Padma Lakshmi has graduated from the UCB. Congratulations, Padma. Improvisation hasn’t jumped the shark yet, but let’s just say the motorcycle is revving and the tank is jut about filled.

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Fred Astaire… racist?

Shortly after the Watts riot, Budd Schulberg (director of On the Waterfront) started a writers’ workshop to help nurture Black talent in Los Angeles. Gregory Peck donated. Jack Lemmon and Sammy Davis, Jr. did, too. But according to Fred Astaire’s new biography, he sent only a response to Budd:

“Budd, whatever gave you the impression that I would be interested in giving money to start a workshop to help Black kids? You’ve got the wrong guy.”

Top hat, old bean.

---

Stevie Nicks will be signing books at the Union Square Barnes & Noble on Tuesday at 7:00 p.m.

She will be sitting in front of the Union Square Barnes & Noble until then and also immediately following the book signing.

---

Michael Jackson’s hired goons (let’s hope they got paid in advance) have threatened the auction house that’s auctioning off a bunch of Jackson’s stuff on April 21st.

The president of Julien’s Auctions said in a sworn statement that the goons said they would get “Farrakhan and the Nation of Islam” to go after him if the auction wasn’t cancelled. He went on to add, “Michael Jackson wanted to give the message to us, that our lives are at stake and there will be bloodshed.”

Trey Parker, as Michael Jackson, responded, “Nooooo… that’s ignorant.”

---

Now someone is firing arrows at people in the Bronx.

What was that weirdo Jodie Foster/Tim Robbins movie from years ago? Five Corners? That had arrows in it, right?

If this shitty coffee weren’t so shitty, I’d get more. But I won’t. Yet. I still have no internet (I ain’t paying AT&T for the privilege, thanks), so I’ll just assume that, yes, that’s the movie with the arrows, and move on.

I wonder if this is what it’s like being Armond White’s editor.

---

I’ve often wondered what gave Ralph Peters the authority to constantly shit on my BPF. Now I know.

He was recently named “Fox News’ first ‘strategic analyst.’”

He was previously their “strategeric analyzerist.”

---

You Tube is now being blocked in China.

It’s just as well – most of their uploaded videos look the same to me.

---

Terry Kinney (warden of Oz, co-founder of the Steppenwolf Theater Company in Chicago) left a message on Michael Riedel’s answering machine, in response to Riedel’s cruel takedown of the play Terry is directing.

It begins with, “Michael Riedel, this is Terry Kinney. You wrote an article about my play today that is absolutely full of bullshit and lies, and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It ends with (according to Riedel) the tape running out during “You’re going on a very bad source. You’re full of shit and…”

Moral of the story? Don’t fuck with the warden from Oz.

---

Freddy Garcia was going to be the Mets’ fifth starter. The only thing stopping him? He’s 0-3 with a 16.71 ERA for the spring.

Poor Freddy Garcia (and, to a greater extent, the Mets).

---

D.L. Hughley’s CNN news-b’also-humor show has been cancizzelled. It lasted 18 episodes.

Speaking of audience-less shows, George Lopez will debut his late-night talk show on TBS this November.

No word on how soon thereafter Carlos Mencia’s eerily similar talk show will debut, but you know it will.

Dur-dee-duuuuuur.

---

OK. I have no way of posting this, so you might not read this until tonight or tomorrow, but know that by 9:57 a.m., I completed my daily assignment.

Hopefully, in an hour or two, my beautiful wife will be awake again, newly thyroidless.

In the meantime? I’m-a go back to the hospital and do filthy things in the men’s room.

Oh, and that male nurse’s name (and I am not changing a single letter, I swear)?

Tom Phan.

☺

---

It is 3:39 p.m.

My aunt Pat and I just saw Teresa. She sounds like Froggy from The Little Rascals and has tubes and IVs all up in her heezie, but she’s in decent spirits (thank you, morphine!).

So many messages of love! If I was getting my thyroid out, I’d get a day-late voicemail from a wrong number (if I was lucky!).

Seriously, though, I can’t thank everyone enough. Would Teresa have made it through without Patti keeping me company? Yes. Does she need all of the texts and voice mails from friends across the globe? Not really. Does she even need me? Yes. And don’t ever let her forget it.

I will say this about Lenox Hill Hospital (where a certain pretty baby was born on June 30th almost 35 years ago): every single person here (from the security guy downstairs to the orderlies to the woman who keeps checking in on folks in the waiting room) is fucking awesome. Years of frequenting places like Circuit City (burn in Hell) and dealing with folks like my buddies at Oxford Health, had completely erased any memory I ever had of decent customer service. Lenox Hill Hospital has returned those memories in a tidal wave of comforting.
If you ever need to be in a hospital, this is the one to go to.

I’m even considering hacking off whichever limb I use least, just so I can hang out with these incredibly sweet people some more.

Phew. So relieved. Again, I wasn’t worried about the operation (any more than I normally worry about the well-being of my wife), but these last few days have been a stress waffle with extra maple syrup and also more stress. How long will it take before Teresa is back to her sprightly self? I dunno. And will the removal of her thyroid mean that her recent lethargy and exhaustion will vanish? That’d be nice, but again, I have no idea.

But whatever happens, whatever she needs, I will always be by her side. That much I know.

OK.  It’s now 4:44 p.m. The raw bacon of this morning is starting to do a samba in my gutty works. I’m almost hoping Teresa sends me home (if one of my farts winds up infecting her throat, then that would be alternately devastating and hilarious).

Time to power down the pute-pute and stretch m’legs.

I promise not to be as maudlin and kissy-kissy tomorrow.

Yes.