WB for HoF

In the sports world, there is talk of who should be voted into the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame this year. I say Wade Boggs.

Sure his baseball stats are impressive (.328 BA, 1,014 RBI, 3,010 hits over 18 seasons), but I think there are two other things that move him up to the next level, making him Hall of Fame material.

Number 1: He was on The Simpsons. Yes, I know there were some other Hall of Fame hopefuls that also appeared on The Simpsons. That is why there is a number 2.

Number 2: He rode on the back of a police horse after the Yankees won the World Series in 1996.

It is a simple mathematical equation really: great baseball statistics + Simpsons appearance + riding on a police horse with police officer in Yankee Stadium after winning World Series = Hall of Fame

Bull's-Eye

Blade Trinity is hitting theaters in the U.S. of A. on December 8.

Will it be good? Perhaps ... perhaps not. Either way, one thing is for certain -- Jessica Biel is looking good with bow and arrow in hand:



















(click on pictures for bigger views)

Tur-key to Success

I think it is safe to say the Turkey Day was a success. Not that it takes a lot of talent to be successful.

Are you full?

Yes.

Mission Accomplished.

Actually there was a bit more judgment than that. This Thanksgiving I had my parents, father-in-law, brother-in-law, sister-in-law and nephew over for the feast. We did the whole deal: turkey, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, dinner rolls, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, stuffing, gravy and of course pie (apple and pumpkin). It was a hit with the fam and with myself as well.

As far as turkey cooking goes, this is the key to juicy eatin': click.

Stick the thermometer into the turkey thigh, run the cable out of the oven and plug it into the thermometer, set the temperature (175F for turkey) and your happy thermometer will alert you with an annoying beeping sound when the bird wants out of the heat. Done and done.

Sounds the Same ... Tastes Different

"Oh man, this is CRAZY. When I lived in Texas we'd always eat chili. Now I'm in a country called Chile! They're spelled different, but sound the same. Who knew? Check out the crazy getup they've got us politicians in. It's totally business casual or something. Oooh, now I wish I had some chili right now. Chili in Chile. Get it?"

Turn That Frown Upside Down

Have a nice day insurgents!


Who knew shooting Iraqis could be so F-U-N? Right smiley face?

Under a Spell

So, any option of my life being productive have just come to an abrupt halt. The cause? I made the mistake of purchasing Halo 2. Now all I can think of is firing up the Xbox and killing aliens.

I am not usually a video game nerd, but something about Halo suckers me in. It becomes an addiction ... an unhealthy addiction. If I get things wired up properly and I get the Xbox live going I may never leave my apartment again.

Damn you Bill Gates!

MIA

So, there hasn't been much going on here on the Tastes Like Burning blog front as of late. I guess it is safe to say there are three basic reasons for this.

1. I haven't had anything exciting to report
2. I've been feeling lazy
3. Work is cracking down on non-work related internet use. Apparently blogs are not work related.

Staple

Do you like office supplies? Do you like celebrities? Do you like office supplies autographed by celebrities? Well check out this auction and you can bid on staplers autographed by your favorite celebrity. The money will go to charity. How nice.

By the way, the stapler that the majority of the celebs are signing is this one: crunch. I have the same one at work (I bought it myself). It's the shit. 20 pages with ease, all for $14.99. Worth every penny.

If you don't dig the celebrities, feel free to purchase an unsigned one for yourself I would be happy to autograph it for you ...

Fists of Fury

On Sunday, before the showdown between the Steelers and Browns, there was a fight involving Joey Porter, William Green, and Terrelle Smith. During the skirmish, Porter popped Green in the mouth (what's up biyatch!?). Porter and Smith were ejected from the game before it had even begun and all three were fined $10,000.

I looked up Joey Porter's salary, but could only find what he was paid last year. Presumably he is getting a bit more this year. Anyway, with some of my piss-poor math skills I figured that a $10,000 fine to Porter would be equivalent to me being fined about $250.

Sure, I'd rather not be out $250, but I'll tell you what ... if I knew that it would only cost me a day off from work and $250 I'd be punching co-workers, competitors and clients at least once a month.

After the Celebrity

I had started Saturday evening with a couple of drinks at a bar, went to dinner and downed more drinks and then with the excitement of eating very near a celebrity still fresh in my mind, my Saturday continued on. How better to top off the action than with some karaoke!? All was fun -- especially with my rendition of Interstate Love Song and Sweet Child of Mine -- but I'll tell you what ... Sunday I felt none too good. As a matter of fact I still wasn't feeling quite right even on Monday. Sunday I woke up around 10am and couldn't get back to sleep, so moved to the couch. There I stayed until around 4pm. All day, waves of feeling OK, swept away with waves of nausea and then back to OK again. It sucked, but at least I didn't barf. I hadn't felt that shitty in I don't know how long. On a side note: having no football viewing options other than the Jets and Giants doesn't help hangovers much either. Fuck you New York football!

All I can think about is that the holiday season of parties and overindulgence is fast approaching. I can't have this beaten down feeling the entire month of December. I won't make it to 2005.

Must get a plan ...

Rubbing Elbows

Just to let you know what a highfalutin kinda guy I am, this past Saturday I went out to dinner for a friend's birthday and who was sitting in the table right behind mine? Josh Mostel! Yes, the Josh Mostel. Star of Billy Madison (Principal Max Anderson/The Revolting Blob), City Slickers and City Slickers II (Barry Shalowitz), and many other fine motion pictures, sitting in the very same restaurant as me.

Now who's happenin'?

Homecoming

Have nothing to do this weekend? Well, on Saturday there is a little something going on that might just do you right. I've been to other "events" with Chengwin and Chunk before, and although it sounds like they are getting more and more elaborate, hopefully it won't lose the chaotic mess that makes a good time be had by all.

This time around will be a massive athletic showdown between arch-enemies Chengwin (half-chicken, half-penguin) and Chunk (half-chicken, half-skunk). The two compete for the affection of the Homecoming Queen, Chove (half-chicken, half-dove), on a temporary playing field downtown, fully supported by announcers, coaches, referees, cheerleaders, and even a marching band. Audience participation for the game is highly encouraged, so Chengwin fans wear white, Chunk fans black. Extra pom-pom-bedecked cheerleaders, as well as other archetypal homecoming personages, are also heartily welcome.

The kind folk at the National Weather Service are predicting temps to be in the 40 degree range with partly cloudy skies. That sounds like football weather to me ...

IT'S GO TIME.

CHENGWIN PRESENTS:

HOMECOMING 2004
THE CHENGWINS vs. THE CHUNKS
- - THE BATTLE FOR CHOVE - -

THIS SATURDAY, NOV. 13TH, **3pm SHARP**
COME PREPARED TO PLAY
AT THE NORTH CORNER OF HOUSTON/LAFAYETTE ST.

WEAR WHITE IF YOU'RE A CHENGWIN.
WEAR BLACK IF YOU'RE A CHUNK.
WINNER GETS CHOVE.
EVERYBODY ELSE GETS A PARTY.

http://www.chengwin.com

TaB-ulation

This past Sunday I went out to Long Island City to watch some of the ING New York City Marathon (you can't forget the ING ... or else!) with some friends. Our particular viewing location in L.I.C. was somewhere between mile 13 and 14 of the race and was not very crowded, but for some reason I had people unnecessarily close to me. One particular moment I thought I had entered the Twilight Zone.

On my left was an older woman who had her sheltie with her. She was holding the dog in her arms and talking to it like it was a small child. "Do you see all the runners?" Ooh, look at that guy's sneakers." "Did you see how skinny that woman was?" "Do you like the marathon?" I didn't hear the dog respond to any of this.

To avoid Ms. Crazy and her dog, I slid over to my right a bit. Over there was no better. A posse of parents with their little kids running around all over the place was inhabiting that space. For the most part they were OK, but this one woman from the group was on the roadway side of the NYPD barricades keeping an eye out for some friends that were running. God knows you can't see anything from the spectator side of the barricade. I found her pretty annoying to begin with due to the fact that she felt obligated to be on the wrong side of the barricade, her unnecessarily loud voice and the fact that she kept inching further out onto the road causing some runners to slightly adjust course. Who the fuck wants to avoid some idiot spectator after they have already run 13+ miles? The thing that bumped her from annoying to alarming was the fact that she was drinking TaB soda. Fucking TaB! I felt like I was in a 1977 time warp.

Anyway, I eventually got away from the freakshows around me and all was well once again ...

Now if you will excuse me I am going to go enjoy an frosty TaB and play some Space Invaders on my Atari 2600 with my dog.

A Balanced Meal of Thanks

This Turkey Day I am having my parents, as well as some of the in-laws coming over to Thanksgiving dinner. It is bound to be a fiasco as all crowded holiday events tend to be. I think I may have just found a way to make the day a bit more relaxed. No cooking for me. It's liquid Thanksgiving for all: Yummy

Reflections on Nipplegate

So, this Tara Reid exposure on the red carpet situation is quite a hot topic of interest (at least in the internet search world). Up to this point, I have been averaging about 500 hits on my site per month but since posting the blurb on Tara's revealing mistake I am already over 500 in the last two days. Just like rubberneckers driving by an accident on the highway people can't look away from the horror. The human curiosity just can't be ignored.

I had sent the link of the Nipplegate photos to a friend of mine on Friday, Nov. 5. I get a response back on Saturday, Nov. 6:

I've played with some breast reduced boobies and they did not have nasty scars like THAT. for the money she paid, that is gross. Did she have them done yesterday?

M

Then, on Tuesday, Nov. 9, after a few days to let his brain digest what his eyes had encountered he followed up with more:

I am considering doing breast enlargements in my shed for extra cash for the local main street skanks here in C-------n. hack saw, chisel, and duct tape. and I have extra tools if you want to join me. that is still gagging me. those Frankenstein nipples.

M

You know you are dealing with an odd situation when you've got average American men grossed out by breasts.

Frankenstein nipples. That's great.

Wisdom Inside a Cap

During my Monday Night Football watching I enjoyed a few Magic Hat #9s. Inside the caps they have little ... well, I guess you can call them words of wisdom. I learned two things from my beer tonight:

(1) Herbert the Pervert likes Sherbert
and
(2) Pull my finger but do not linger

You are very wise, my little beer caps. Thank you for sharing your infinite wisdom.

The H Saves the Day

So, I went to my Election Day rockathon the other day, and although it certainly was better than sitting around watching the jerkoffs on the news speculate about election winners, it wasn't as rockin' as I was hoping.

First, there was an extra opening band, Idle Sons. They reminded me of a heavier rockin' Bryan Adams in band form. OK to watch, but if they were on the radio I would probably flip around to see if anything else was on.

Thanks to Idle Sons, the Burden Brothers, who I actually wanted to see, didn't get much time on stage. While they played, I thought they were pretty good, but they only played five or six songs. I stood waiting for the roadies to set up the band's shit and run a sound check longer than the band actually played. That's crap.

Luckily, Local H came out next and saved the day. They sounded great -- even better than the other times I have seen them. Scott (the singer) had a nice new haircut and lost some weight too. Nice work Scott. They threw in a brief "Fuck George Bush" just to remind us what day it was, but other then that it was straight rockin'. Just what the doctor ordered. If I were to be running for President of the U.S of A. someday, I would certainly have Local H play at the inauguration. That would start things off proper.

I wound up leaving after Local H, so I never saw headliners Finger Eleven. With a can of Budweiser going for $5 and my feet/back getting tired of standing, I decided I had enough. I guess I will regret it someday when Finger Eleven is big time, but for now I feel OK about it.

Moral to the story? None.

Reid Between The Lines

Some might like this post/link because they think that Tara Reid is hot, but I tend to like it just for the embarrassment factor (if she is even capable of being embarrassed). I have to say, of all the ways to do something embarrassing, red carpet embarrassment is one of the best kinds ...

Anyway, I'm sure this doesn't need my help to be spread around, but if you would like to see what a dumbass Tara Reid is, you might like to look here for a series of photos from the red carpet at P. Diddy's 35th birthday. You should read http://oanmedia.com's recap of the incident first:

New York, November 4 -- P. Diddy didn't run naked down Wall Street at his birthday party as he promised the other day, but Tara Reid did. We thought it was intentional when the starlet dropped her dress strap, popped her left breast out and then posed, smiling for photographers. When a handler tiptoed over and tugged the loose strap back into place, a look of horror crossed Reid's face, and we realized it was a mistake.

I guess when you get yourself some fake tits you need to show 'em off somehow. Even if it is an accident. Kudos, Tara! Kudos.


By the way, during the breast augmentation procedure, did your surgeon use a crowbar to pry back your nipple and then pop in the implant? Yeeouch! That does not look healthy.

Watch Out Lavigne

Last week I caught Skye Sweetnam performing on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno (I think it was a repeat, but that's not the point). I have two words for Avril Lavigne -- "Watch" and "Out" That's right Avril. Skye has your number. She's cute, she's Canadian, she sings (better than you), what she sings is catchy and she writes some of her own stuff. Plus, she toured with Britney Spears so she caters to that crowd (whatever that crowd is exactly), but ain't so prissy to not appeal to the Avril-type "rock" crowd.

I'm not saying we, the music listening public need drama or a catfight, but Avril you are going to need to pick it up a bit if you want to retain your status.

Death Defying

During the summer months I put some of my plants outside on the air conditioner so they can enjoy maximum sunlight (and take up less room inside). I have been thinking about bringing them in due to the approaching cold, but they're tough and it hasn't gotten that cold yet, so they remain out there.

This morning I look out the window and for some strange reason actually look towards my plants. I notice instead of three plants on my living room air conditioner, there are now only two. I think I know the culprit -- it is pretty damn windy today here in NYC. The wind is blowing in the 25 - 30 MPH range with gusts getting up to 50MPH. The odd thing is that the missing plant is not the one I would expect to be subject to wind issues. The one I would expect to be the wind's toy is small and in a plastic pot, while the one missing is larger and in a terra cotta pot. There's quite a weight difference. Hmmmmm ...

I become a bit fearful for I live on the 8th floor of my building. I open my window and poke my head out to see if I see any sign of the missing pot, half expecting to see a body lying down on the wet sidewalk below.

No body.

No plant either.

Then I see the plant. It has managed to avoid the sidewalk and is lying near the sparse bushes below. I figure the pot is a goner, but plants can always be repotted. It is a pot of mint, which I need so my mojitos can be created fresh, just like when Castro and I used to party at his place in Cuba. I decided to go retrieve my plant.

I go downstairs, run over to the plant and the miracle is revealed. The pot is in one piece. How is this possible? It did land in some mulchy type material, but still after 8 floors? It seems to defy physics that a clay pot can survive that sort of drop AND not kill anyone.

In your face Mother Nature! You can not defeat me!!

Waterworld

One of the nights I was in Chicago back in August it began raining harder than I have ever witnessed in my lifetime. We ducked into a bar called Yakzies to get out of Mother Nature's fury and enjoy some frosty beers at the same time.

Well, the bar is downstairs (picture Cheers) and we no sooner got into the bar and order beers when water starts gathering around my feet.

At first I thought maybe the bar floor was uneven and the water was only where we were standing, but then I look across the bar and realize that there is water everywhere. The rain was pouring down the stairs and into the bar like a waterfall. I ask the bartender, "Is this normal?" He responds, "I've seen it once or twice before."

Bar stools suddenly become a commodity.

I'm expecting the bar to close, but everyone just keeps doing their usual bar-type things and just as the rain continues to flow into the bar, the beer continues to flow too. The water continues to rise until it is well over my shoes. There was beer bottles, popcorn, garbage cans and whothefuck knows what else floating around in there.

It was fairly disgusting and it was damn wet, but it was evident that it was more wet outside, and there was more beer inside, so we stayed. At least in the bar we were dry from the shins up. Plus, when does a little inconvenience like wading in bar sludge stop a good time when a bottle of Miller Lite is in your hand?

Four More Years of Retardo

So, it looks like we've got another four years with George W. Bush as our fearless leader. As I see the war in Iraq raging on, my health insurance premiums and co-pays going up, my rent going up, unemployment not going down, the environment being plundered and Osama Bin Laden still running around I can't say I am very thrilled about this outcome. I'm not big into politics, but four more years of stupidity are causing me to feel a bit sick to my stomach.

Enjoy.