Saturday, December 20, 2008

your sh*t DO stink

Number of times I've been farted on in coach: 0/1000.
Number of times I've been farted on in First Class: 50/50.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

dwarfs, courtesans, sardines

Have you ever lay awake nights wondering what life would have been like for a prostitute and her dwarf companion in 15th Century Venice? I sure have. Luckily, this novel by Sarah Dunant has the answer to that question and more. In one scene, the lovely Fiametta declares that she would sell her virginity for sardines fried with sugar and oranges. The day after I read this passage, I saw fresh whole sardines for sale at Central Market. Since this was the only item for which I did not have to fight a crowd of overachieving Type-A foodies (the cheese section was b-a-n-a-n-a-s), I gave it a whirl. The dish was good, but in this market, I would have wanted more for my virginity.



Friday, December 12, 2008

Boomin' Granny!

Don't hate, player! You WISH you'll look this good when you're in your 70's. When you're her age, are you really going to hustle that titanium hip of yours down to Harwin to pick up the latest fly gear that all the honeys are rockin'? Hell to the nizzo. I bet you'll just stick to some tasteful cardigan and slacks combo. Bo-ring. You'll never pick up your future-ex husband in something like that! Knock-off BCBG is where it's at!

Overheard at Starbucks:

Blaine: Venti hot chocolate, please.
Barista: Name?
Blaine: Blaine.
Barista: What?
Blaine: Blaine.
Barista: Huh?
Blaine: Brian.
Barista: Ohh. BRIAN.
Blaine: Yes. Thank you . . . LaShonda.