Thursday, April 26, 2007
How to leave The League speechless #215
courtesy: Chris's Invincible Super-Blog
PLUS: This story on why the Batmobile may be more trouble than its worth.
NAME PEABO'S KID
Hey, Leaguers. In less than 24 hours, Peabo and Adriana will have a new human being to watch over. An as yet unnamed human being.
So let's help out this kid.
Now taking suggestions for names. And, yes, it's supposed to be a boy.
My suggestions:
Grand Funk Peabo
Grover Cleveland
Vincent Young
William Travis
Stephen Austin
John Wayne
Thomas Jefferson
Flipper
Mr. Pinchy
Ryan J.
Susan
Coolio McGuillicutty
Grimace
Alfred E.
Boris Yeltsin
Red Lobster
Bruce Wayne
Kool-Aid Man
Carl Edward Walls IV
Sinestro
Richard Milhouse
Tonto
Timothy Duncan
Dwayne Wade
Stretch Armstrong
Joseph Montana
Cobb Salad
Ishmael
Cobra Commander
Star Scream
Moose N. Squirrel
Nehemiah Deuteronomy
Job Habakkuk
Grandmaster Flash
Whelan William
That's it. I've got no more in me. You help out.
So let's help out this kid.
Now taking suggestions for names. And, yes, it's supposed to be a boy.
My suggestions:
Grand Funk Peabo
Grover Cleveland
Vincent Young
William Travis
Stephen Austin
John Wayne
Thomas Jefferson
Flipper
Mr. Pinchy
Ryan J.
Susan
Coolio McGuillicutty
Grimace
Alfred E.
Boris Yeltsin
Red Lobster
Bruce Wayne
Kool-Aid Man
Carl Edward Walls IV
Sinestro
Richard Milhouse
Tonto
Timothy Duncan
Dwayne Wade
Stretch Armstrong
Joseph Montana
Cobb Salad
Ishmael
Cobra Commander
Star Scream
Moose N. Squirrel
Nehemiah Deuteronomy
Job Habakkuk
Grandmaster Flash
Whelan William
That's it. I've got no more in me. You help out.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Tonight we dined IN HELL!!!
So when we were moving in, I noticed that someone was putting in some sort of new building on the Lamar/290 frontage road just north of Brodie. Sort of an odd location, but forward thinking as that whole area by Burger Center is turning Sunset Valley into a little economic engine like nobody's business.
Anyhoo... this winter I noticed it was going to be an Italian place with the dubious name of (name redacted by agreement w/ restaurant owner. It's a long story). The outside was brightly painted, indicating that it was a tiny Italian villa. I'm not sure. I'm usually going 50 over there, and I don't usually slow for such things.
This evening we were considering tacos at Serrano's by 290, and I recalled there was the new restaurant on the other side of the road. "Let's try Johnny Clambake's..." I announced from the back seat (Jason sat in front and Jamie drove). Of late, I've acquired my mother's ability (or inability) to recall proper nouns, but go ahead and assign them a name I feel works for me. (We did not watch Saturday Night Live. We watched Saturday Night Alive! We ate at Chick-a-Fillet. Yet she knew who all the Star Wars characters were. It's odd.) Jamie swerved in and out of lanes as we tried to decide where we were going, and finally we settled on Johnny Clambake's.
Upon pulling into the lot we noted that the place was an all-you-can-eat buffet. Never a good sign for a promising meal, but even The League tires of tacos upon occasion, and so we decided it would be a bit of an adventure, to pioneer Johnny Clambake's and be able to say "Oh, yes, I ate there. Oh, yes."
So the entry way at Johnny Clambake's was really pretty nice. Obviously designed to hold a great number of waiting diners, but not quite as EPCOT-ish as Olive Garden, but not exactly what one might think any self-respecting actual Italian would recognize as Italian. Heck, even a self-respecting Italian-American.
I knew we were in trouble when, as new customers, we were offered "the tour". The tour took up through "Il Vilagio" which really was an odd buffet line broken up into various ideas about one might want to eat. Anti-pasta, salad at one end. Dessert at the other. All nicely appointed. And the food didn't look like middle-school cafeteria food, but they also weren't shy about moving you through The Vilagio as quickly as possible. "And it's all you can eat!" the tour guide insisted four or five times, just in case we were worried we might not get our money's worth.
And then the tour took a curious turn as we were lead past several "dining pods", you might describe them, down a hallway, past the restrooms, and I suspected we'd be out by the dumpsters when we emerged in a new dining pod with about fifteen tables. The tour guide then directed us to the table crammed into a corner, directly next to the only other occupied table in the pod, complete with kids crawling right up on to the table. Luckily, not Jason, Jamie or I were too shy as we stepped on each other's words requesting a table across the room. Actually, I think Jamie wandered over to a table and Jason said "we'll sit there."
The dining pod was painted a nice shade of fancy-dining room red, and covered in reproductions of art you kind of maybe thought looked like something that was supposed to be nice (including an 18th century picture of hunting dogs), and gave off the illusion that one was somewhere okay... but the little plastic standee on the table then announced our meal would be $13.00 a head. This did not include $2.00 for a drink.
"Let's go," I said. "We can leave."
"We came here for something new, let's try something new."
"Okay," I agreed. But I knew... Hell, Golden Corral is about the same price. I don't know what I expected.
The tables were also all squeezed remarkably close together, which was part of our decision not to sit next to the kids. It would have been like sitting at the same table. But the dining pod was mostly empty and we decided we were far enough away. After all, Jamie loves to drop the f-bomb to punctuate dinner conversations.
Also, Johnny Clambake's had this weird table inventory system visible at the entrance to each dining pod. It looked like a security grid, but included a touchscreen interface so the tour guide could determine which tables were sat. I wanted to monkey with it, but feared retribution should I be caught in the act.
After placing drink orders and having to witness the tour guide do some paperwork to note that we'd changed tables (no, reallY) we wandered back out into the winding maze of (editor's note: name removed to protect the innocent meatball manufacturers). "If this place caught on fire," I said to Jamie as we squeezed past a patron going the other way, "It would be a firey deathtrap." The hallways were ADA, but they were hallways in a buffet restaurant. Where people must get up multiple times and get food (now, you could be reasonable and get one plate of food, but who would do that? Not the Steans Boys, I tell you that much.). Luckily the place was sort of slow, but I had horrible visions of Saturday night at Clamshack Steve's.
"Go for the meat!" I insisted loudly as we broke apart at Il Vilagio. "They want for you to get cheap stuff like bread and salad! That's a con game! The meat costs them! Don't fill up before you get your money's worth!"
But, it being an Italian place and not a grill, I saw a lot of bread sticks, salad and pasta, but very little meat. Except for some meatballs listed as "Homemade Meatballs", which is a lie. Unless the cooks actually live at (editor's note: name removed under suggestion from legal council), this place is nobody's home, and I don't much care for the fib.
Other offerings included meatloaf and fried fish. But, yeah, for the most part it was sort of vaguely Italian-ish faire.
But I was mostly just confused by the whole operation. $13.00 for dinner and the food was, at best, the low end of the Olive Garden spectrum. Plus you had to fetch it yourself, and there flat out weren't that many "entree" type options.
And some guy who was just lingering in Il Vilagio had some nasty BO that surrounded him like a bubble and stung my eyes.
Upon returning to our table, they'd packed in more families (that table LED system was lit up like Christmas, I tell ya), and despite there being multiple empty tables far from us, the tour guide had chosen to pack them in around our table. We immediately noticed that if both tables sat back to back, neither could stand to return to the buffet line, which might save them money, but certainly seemed to defeat the purpose of the buffet concept. The League must be free in his movements when going back for soft serve ice cream.
We weren't the only ones to notice as the room became more densely packed and the family seated behind us got up and moved on their own, causing a landslide of paperwork for somebody.
And the food I got? Okay. Nothing great. Nothing that suggested they needed to clear out Deck the Walls' post-Holiday sale to decorate the joint. I'm an American. If the food is hot and there isn't vermin dashing across the table, color me pleased with my dining surroundings.
Then I noticed the bottom of the table was covered in that super-dense carpet they use in elementary schools. "There's carpet under the tables!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," Jamie blinked.
"No, on the bottom of the tables," Jason said, noting the odd texture. "Not the floor".
I do not understand Johnny Clambake's. I don't get the dining pods, the narrow, deathtrap hallways, the chocolate fountain they would not let you touch, Il Vilagio, substandard food, too many "fancy-lookin'" prints on the walls, and a 9:00 closing time.
At 8:15 Jason told the waiter, who was fishing around to see if we wanted our bill, "Oh, no. We're going to sit here for an hour, digest, and then go back for more." He sort of blinked and then said "We close at 9:00." Apparently someone had put our plan into action.
Oh, Johnny Clamshack! You are one senior citizen taking a spill in your narrow hallways away from closing your doors. Or someone noticing that the pizza bar is not dissimilar to the one in the Jester Dormitory cafeteria.
Oddly, the place (we found out because Jason likes to ask questions) is owned by the same folks who own (editor's note: name removed to preserve future dining experiences) (also a place where I expect I could meet a firey end). And I like (editor's note: name removed to preserve future opportunities for BBQ). I think I get where they're going with Jimmy Clamshack's, but there's a lot of work that has to happen with the menu if they want to make it. Or not. They could drop the price, and then, really, who cares? Ain't nobody going to Cici's because the pizza is good.
If the place does fold, it would make a swell Laser Tag arena. Otherwise, I have no idea what they could do with the oddly shaped space.
Anyhoo... this winter I noticed it was going to be an Italian place with the dubious name of (name redacted by agreement w/ restaurant owner. It's a long story). The outside was brightly painted, indicating that it was a tiny Italian villa. I'm not sure. I'm usually going 50 over there, and I don't usually slow for such things.
This evening we were considering tacos at Serrano's by 290, and I recalled there was the new restaurant on the other side of the road. "Let's try Johnny Clambake's..." I announced from the back seat (Jason sat in front and Jamie drove). Of late, I've acquired my mother's ability (or inability) to recall proper nouns, but go ahead and assign them a name I feel works for me. (We did not watch Saturday Night Live. We watched Saturday Night Alive! We ate at Chick-a-Fillet. Yet she knew who all the Star Wars characters were. It's odd.) Jamie swerved in and out of lanes as we tried to decide where we were going, and finally we settled on Johnny Clambake's.
Upon pulling into the lot we noted that the place was an all-you-can-eat buffet. Never a good sign for a promising meal, but even The League tires of tacos upon occasion, and so we decided it would be a bit of an adventure, to pioneer Johnny Clambake's and be able to say "Oh, yes, I ate there. Oh, yes."
So the entry way at Johnny Clambake's was really pretty nice. Obviously designed to hold a great number of waiting diners, but not quite as EPCOT-ish as Olive Garden, but not exactly what one might think any self-respecting actual Italian would recognize as Italian. Heck, even a self-respecting Italian-American.
I knew we were in trouble when, as new customers, we were offered "the tour". The tour took up through "Il Vilagio" which really was an odd buffet line broken up into various ideas about one might want to eat. Anti-pasta, salad at one end. Dessert at the other. All nicely appointed. And the food didn't look like middle-school cafeteria food, but they also weren't shy about moving you through The Vilagio as quickly as possible. "And it's all you can eat!" the tour guide insisted four or five times, just in case we were worried we might not get our money's worth.
And then the tour took a curious turn as we were lead past several "dining pods", you might describe them, down a hallway, past the restrooms, and I suspected we'd be out by the dumpsters when we emerged in a new dining pod with about fifteen tables. The tour guide then directed us to the table crammed into a corner, directly next to the only other occupied table in the pod, complete with kids crawling right up on to the table. Luckily, not Jason, Jamie or I were too shy as we stepped on each other's words requesting a table across the room. Actually, I think Jamie wandered over to a table and Jason said "we'll sit there."
The dining pod was painted a nice shade of fancy-dining room red, and covered in reproductions of art you kind of maybe thought looked like something that was supposed to be nice (including an 18th century picture of hunting dogs), and gave off the illusion that one was somewhere okay... but the little plastic standee on the table then announced our meal would be $13.00 a head. This did not include $2.00 for a drink.
"Let's go," I said. "We can leave."
"We came here for something new, let's try something new."
"Okay," I agreed. But I knew... Hell, Golden Corral is about the same price. I don't know what I expected.
The tables were also all squeezed remarkably close together, which was part of our decision not to sit next to the kids. It would have been like sitting at the same table. But the dining pod was mostly empty and we decided we were far enough away. After all, Jamie loves to drop the f-bomb to punctuate dinner conversations.
Also, Johnny Clambake's had this weird table inventory system visible at the entrance to each dining pod. It looked like a security grid, but included a touchscreen interface so the tour guide could determine which tables were sat. I wanted to monkey with it, but feared retribution should I be caught in the act.
After placing drink orders and having to witness the tour guide do some paperwork to note that we'd changed tables (no, reallY) we wandered back out into the winding maze of (editor's note: name removed to protect the innocent meatball manufacturers). "If this place caught on fire," I said to Jamie as we squeezed past a patron going the other way, "It would be a firey deathtrap." The hallways were ADA, but they were hallways in a buffet restaurant. Where people must get up multiple times and get food (now, you could be reasonable and get one plate of food, but who would do that? Not the Steans Boys, I tell you that much.). Luckily the place was sort of slow, but I had horrible visions of Saturday night at Clamshack Steve's.
"Go for the meat!" I insisted loudly as we broke apart at Il Vilagio. "They want for you to get cheap stuff like bread and salad! That's a con game! The meat costs them! Don't fill up before you get your money's worth!"
But, it being an Italian place and not a grill, I saw a lot of bread sticks, salad and pasta, but very little meat. Except for some meatballs listed as "Homemade Meatballs", which is a lie. Unless the cooks actually live at (editor's note: name removed under suggestion from legal council), this place is nobody's home, and I don't much care for the fib.
Other offerings included meatloaf and fried fish. But, yeah, for the most part it was sort of vaguely Italian-ish faire.
But I was mostly just confused by the whole operation. $13.00 for dinner and the food was, at best, the low end of the Olive Garden spectrum. Plus you had to fetch it yourself, and there flat out weren't that many "entree" type options.
And some guy who was just lingering in Il Vilagio had some nasty BO that surrounded him like a bubble and stung my eyes.
Upon returning to our table, they'd packed in more families (that table LED system was lit up like Christmas, I tell ya), and despite there being multiple empty tables far from us, the tour guide had chosen to pack them in around our table. We immediately noticed that if both tables sat back to back, neither could stand to return to the buffet line, which might save them money, but certainly seemed to defeat the purpose of the buffet concept. The League must be free in his movements when going back for soft serve ice cream.
We weren't the only ones to notice as the room became more densely packed and the family seated behind us got up and moved on their own, causing a landslide of paperwork for somebody.
And the food I got? Okay. Nothing great. Nothing that suggested they needed to clear out Deck the Walls' post-Holiday sale to decorate the joint. I'm an American. If the food is hot and there isn't vermin dashing across the table, color me pleased with my dining surroundings.
Then I noticed the bottom of the table was covered in that super-dense carpet they use in elementary schools. "There's carpet under the tables!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," Jamie blinked.
"No, on the bottom of the tables," Jason said, noting the odd texture. "Not the floor".
I do not understand Johnny Clambake's. I don't get the dining pods, the narrow, deathtrap hallways, the chocolate fountain they would not let you touch, Il Vilagio, substandard food, too many "fancy-lookin'" prints on the walls, and a 9:00 closing time.
At 8:15 Jason told the waiter, who was fishing around to see if we wanted our bill, "Oh, no. We're going to sit here for an hour, digest, and then go back for more." He sort of blinked and then said "We close at 9:00." Apparently someone had put our plan into action.
Oh, Johnny Clamshack! You are one senior citizen taking a spill in your narrow hallways away from closing your doors. Or someone noticing that the pizza bar is not dissimilar to the one in the Jester Dormitory cafeteria.
Oddly, the place (we found out because Jason likes to ask questions) is owned by the same folks who own (editor's note: name removed to preserve future dining experiences) (also a place where I expect I could meet a firey end). And I like (editor's note: name removed to preserve future opportunities for BBQ). I think I get where they're going with Jimmy Clamshack's, but there's a lot of work that has to happen with the menu if they want to make it. Or not. They could drop the price, and then, really, who cares? Ain't nobody going to Cici's because the pizza is good.
If the place does fold, it would make a swell Laser Tag arena. Otherwise, I have no idea what they could do with the oddly shaped space.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Some Excellent News
A) It sounds like The League's own CBG is packing up her belongings and returning to the Capital City. Read her announcement here.
That's excellent news for The League who is quite fond of CBG, and was pleased to find he enjoyed the company of CBG's husband as well. Let's all hope baby Xander doesn't spoil it for everyone with an anti-Texas stance.
We're glad to hear that you're coming back, CB! We'll leave a light on for you.
Oh, and there's no reason for Xander to know he was born anywhere but Texas. We'll cover for you.
B) It seems The League's own Peabo knows not just the day, but the time of his soon to be arrived child's, uhm... arrival? Birth. Yes, birth.
So this Friday everything changes for Peabo as he transforms from irresponsible purveyor of hare-brained schemes to irresponsible purveyor of hare-brained schemes involving children. Huzzah!
I need to get that kid a present.
Ah, who am I kidding? That kid is going to be a baby and won't know if I've picked it out a present until it's at least four. And it's not like Peabo will be keeping track...
Big doings here among Loyal Leaguers...
That's excellent news for The League who is quite fond of CBG, and was pleased to find he enjoyed the company of CBG's husband as well. Let's all hope baby Xander doesn't spoil it for everyone with an anti-Texas stance.
We're glad to hear that you're coming back, CB! We'll leave a light on for you.
Oh, and there's no reason for Xander to know he was born anywhere but Texas. We'll cover for you.
B) It seems The League's own Peabo knows not just the day, but the time of his soon to be arrived child's, uhm... arrival? Birth. Yes, birth.
So this Friday everything changes for Peabo as he transforms from irresponsible purveyor of hare-brained schemes to irresponsible purveyor of hare-brained schemes involving children. Huzzah!
I need to get that kid a present.
Ah, who am I kidding? That kid is going to be a baby and won't know if I've picked it out a present until it's at least four. And it's not like Peabo will be keeping track...
Big doings here among Loyal Leaguers...
Some Links
1) To nobody's surprise, there shall be a toyline associated with the upcoming Transformers movie. I will not buy any of these toys as I like to keep my Transformers classic. Here is "Barricade" from the upcoming film, in toy form.
Thanks to Jamie for the link.
2) Maxim magazine (the magazine for guys too chicken to ask for the magazines behind the counter at 7-11) has rated the top ten comic "babes".
I do not know who did their rankings, but I guarantee you, any real fanboys' rankings would shake out much differently. Not that we keep a laminated list of our favorite comic leading ladies in our pocket, but if we did... you know, the list would be different.
There's really no arguing this one without going into some deep, dark places I really don't want to explore.
Thanks to Randy "This Doesn't Seem Weird to Me" T. for the link.
3) Jim D. sends along this link from "Ask" about Superman's costume. Specifically, why does Superman wear his underwear outside of his clothes? The person who answers rambles a bit, but then fails to answer the question.
The answer is that Shuster designed the costume based upon a recognizable symbol for strength in 1938, the circus strongman, who often would wear a leotard with some sort of briefs over the top (for reasons which should be fairly obvious). In the first issues of Action Comics, Superman also wore circus-style lace-up boots, and the cape appears to have been added as a bit of flourish and after-thought.
This isn't really any different from why Dracula is dressed as a carnival magician in the movie Dracula from 1933 (Do you really think nobility ever dressed in big capes with pointy collars?) or why Bettie Boop has an enormous head (Flappers' heads were believed to grow to gigantic size due to their consumption of bathtub gin and cheap Canadian whiskey*).
Why does Superman still wear his drawers outside his tights? Because a single blue outfit with red boots looks silly. Also, he needs a pocket for his wallet.
4) As Jim D. was heard to remark "It would be a far, far better thing to go to that amusement park than I have ever done before." Coming Soon: Dickens Land!
5) CNN finally proves itself a reliable news source.
According to CNN, somebody in Serbia discovered a compound with the same chemical properties as Kryptonite...
CNN's not-so-in-depth report which focuses on the many types of Kryptonite. God bless you Mort Weisinger.
Uhm. I'm a pretty big Superman nerd, and I have NO idea what they're talking about... There was a mention in Superman III of the chemical make-up of Kryptonite, and again in Superman Returns (on a label at the museum where Lex obtained his Kryptonite).
But, honestly, the whole point of Kryptonite was that it was composed of elements which were formed in the destruction of Krypton... and thusly could not be duplicated, per se, on Earth...
Well, CNN is owned by Time Warner, as is Superman and DC Comics, so this reporting must all be accurate.
6) Say it ain't so, Cap! (link courtesy JimD)
7) And... this. Which makes me both ashamed and jealous.
Plus a reminder that the original is still the best.
*this is a lie.
Thanks to Jamie for the link.
2) Maxim magazine (the magazine for guys too chicken to ask for the magazines behind the counter at 7-11) has rated the top ten comic "babes".
I do not know who did their rankings, but I guarantee you, any real fanboys' rankings would shake out much differently. Not that we keep a laminated list of our favorite comic leading ladies in our pocket, but if we did... you know, the list would be different.
There's really no arguing this one without going into some deep, dark places I really don't want to explore.
Thanks to Randy "This Doesn't Seem Weird to Me" T. for the link.
3) Jim D. sends along this link from "Ask" about Superman's costume. Specifically, why does Superman wear his underwear outside of his clothes? The person who answers rambles a bit, but then fails to answer the question.
The answer is that Shuster designed the costume based upon a recognizable symbol for strength in 1938, the circus strongman, who often would wear a leotard with some sort of briefs over the top (for reasons which should be fairly obvious). In the first issues of Action Comics, Superman also wore circus-style lace-up boots, and the cape appears to have been added as a bit of flourish and after-thought.
This isn't really any different from why Dracula is dressed as a carnival magician in the movie Dracula from 1933 (Do you really think nobility ever dressed in big capes with pointy collars?) or why Bettie Boop has an enormous head (Flappers' heads were believed to grow to gigantic size due to their consumption of bathtub gin and cheap Canadian whiskey*).
Why does Superman still wear his drawers outside his tights? Because a single blue outfit with red boots looks silly. Also, he needs a pocket for his wallet.
4) As Jim D. was heard to remark "It would be a far, far better thing to go to that amusement park than I have ever done before." Coming Soon: Dickens Land!
5) CNN finally proves itself a reliable news source.
According to CNN, somebody in Serbia discovered a compound with the same chemical properties as Kryptonite...
CNN's not-so-in-depth report which focuses on the many types of Kryptonite. God bless you Mort Weisinger.
Uhm. I'm a pretty big Superman nerd, and I have NO idea what they're talking about... There was a mention in Superman III of the chemical make-up of Kryptonite, and again in Superman Returns (on a label at the museum where Lex obtained his Kryptonite).
But, honestly, the whole point of Kryptonite was that it was composed of elements which were formed in the destruction of Krypton... and thusly could not be duplicated, per se, on Earth...
Well, CNN is owned by Time Warner, as is Superman and DC Comics, so this reporting must all be accurate.
6) Say it ain't so, Cap! (link courtesy JimD)
7) And... this. Which makes me both ashamed and jealous.
Plus a reminder that the original is still the best.
*this is a lie.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Dog Tired
1) I have not made a peep regarding the massacre at Virginia Tech. I've kept mum partially because any words I've tried to summon on the topic have felt woefully inadequate.
This evening the South Mall at UT (which lies in the shadow of the UT Tower) was filled with thousands of students, alumni and folks from the Austin community for a candle ceremony to commemorate the victims. If any school understands the long memory of such a tragedy, it's the UT community.
Best hopes go out to the families of the victims and the Virginia Tech community.
2) Our dogs are attempting to bankrupt us. Last week Lucy managed to wind up at the vet almost every day, and will need to be continually monitored for a while at home. She's been having odd GI problems which are not providing us with any obvious diagnoses or solution. Things culminated in a 30 hour stay at the animal hospital over Saturday and Sunday. She seems fine now, but...
And tomorrow Melbotis will be visiting the vet to have a lumpectomy. The lump is not believed to be malignant, but the vet wants to remove it before it does become a problem. Poor Mel.
Poor Lucy.
Jeff the Cat is fine.
3) I am hopelessly behind on Comic Fodder work.
4) I am hopelessly behind on providing questions to Steven G. Harms for The Mellies.
5) I am hopelessly behind on keeping up with Steven and Lauren since their move northward. I warned them that once you pass the river, you are dead to me...
6) I need to call Cousin Susan and explain what happened with the weekend.
7) I minorly screwed up at work today. My first @#$% up! Hurray!
8) I now own "Star Spangled War Stories #139" featuring the origin of Enemy Ace. If you are me, you think that is totally rad.
9) On a related note, Jamie won herself a suitor on Sunday at Austin Books. I had wandered off to price back-issues of "New Gods", and Jamie was sort of standing there with a copy of the latest American Splendor collection in her hand when a young gentleman took the opportunity to break the ice by declaring his admiration for Harvey Pekar. He just kept talking. And talking. Clearly not picking up on Jamie's "please go away..." vibes.
Because The League is a curious sort of fellow, we decided to let the events unfold naturally, with no intervention despite Jamie's telepathic cries for rescue. (a) I wanted to see how Jamie would handle it, (b) there's a chance jamie's just looking for the right opportunity to jump ship, and (c) did I really want to be the guy who puffs his chest and goes all monkey crazy because some dude is talking to his lady?
I think Jamie let the chap down rather easily, properly showing zero interest and letting him verbally paint himself into a corner from which the only escape was to feign interest in some nearby comics and wander off. This was after he talked a bit too much about how his ex-girlfriend just didn't get Harvey, even though she tried for his benefit.
At this point I re-entered the scene, excited to know that this gentleman would then tell his friends "And then she left with some dork who was looking for back issues of 'New Gods'! Who reads 'New Gods'? NERD!"
Being a girl in a comic shop is a frightening, frightening proposition. Still, I hope Jamie was at least a little flattered.
In reviewing the scene, I suspect that were The League flying a solo mission, we'd fair no better in trying to break the ice.
10) It. Just. Keeps. Raining.
Well, better than 110 days of continuous sunshine, I guess.
11) As soon as my membership to Hollywood video begins, I end it. I still am physically incapable of watching rented movies or returning them.
12) Today I bought these mints. How many mints come with a warning not to eat them if you have high blood pressure? Not too many. But my Mogo Mints sure as @#$% did. Scroll to the bottom left here to see the many, many health warnings associated with enjoying a Mogo Mint.
I'm working near campus which is why I think I'm discovering caffeine supplements again (I had Jolt Mints last week). I've been told a Quix near campus sells caffeine that, my co-worker informs me "you can mainline". I guess you can buy small tubes of powdered caffeine now.
If those items had been available in 1993-1998, I shudder to think of what a short, jittery life I might have led.
11) I shall not be viewing "Flavor of Love Girls: Charm School". Take the craziest girls from the first two seasons of Flavor of Love, remove Flav, give the girls semi-sociopathic advice that makes no sense... it's like watching someone disturb bee's nests for an hour.
What concerned me most was that the girl kicked off on the first episode clearly had rage issues, if not downright issues with her mental health, and she reached out to show host comedienne Mo'Nique. She was subsequently kicked off the show for showing weakness.
Apparently I missed the part of where becoming a better person means being a cut-throat jerk and refusing to see a shrink when you clearly need one.
I wanted to like the show. I really did. I was honestly shocked at the criteria the judges used in the elimination round.
12) Even more surprising for sheer evil is the new VH1 documentary show about the making of "The Jerry Springer Show" entitled "The Springer Hustle". Free of anything resembling scruples, the producers on Springer don't hide a thing as they work to get their guests into a fighting mood prior to releasing them onto the stage. Totally amazing to see folks who've so clearly lost sight of (or never had) basic human empathy as they try to outdo their fellow producers on a show that, ultimately, has absolutely no redeeming value.
13) I've also beenw atching Dogfights on History Channel. For some reason I find the show completely fascinating.
This evening the South Mall at UT (which lies in the shadow of the UT Tower) was filled with thousands of students, alumni and folks from the Austin community for a candle ceremony to commemorate the victims. If any school understands the long memory of such a tragedy, it's the UT community.
Best hopes go out to the families of the victims and the Virginia Tech community.
2) Our dogs are attempting to bankrupt us. Last week Lucy managed to wind up at the vet almost every day, and will need to be continually monitored for a while at home. She's been having odd GI problems which are not providing us with any obvious diagnoses or solution. Things culminated in a 30 hour stay at the animal hospital over Saturday and Sunday. She seems fine now, but...
And tomorrow Melbotis will be visiting the vet to have a lumpectomy. The lump is not believed to be malignant, but the vet wants to remove it before it does become a problem. Poor Mel.
Poor Lucy.
Jeff the Cat is fine.
3) I am hopelessly behind on Comic Fodder work.
4) I am hopelessly behind on providing questions to Steven G. Harms for The Mellies.
5) I am hopelessly behind on keeping up with Steven and Lauren since their move northward. I warned them that once you pass the river, you are dead to me...
6) I need to call Cousin Susan and explain what happened with the weekend.
7) I minorly screwed up at work today. My first @#$% up! Hurray!
8) I now own "Star Spangled War Stories #139" featuring the origin of Enemy Ace. If you are me, you think that is totally rad.
9) On a related note, Jamie won herself a suitor on Sunday at Austin Books. I had wandered off to price back-issues of "New Gods", and Jamie was sort of standing there with a copy of the latest American Splendor collection in her hand when a young gentleman took the opportunity to break the ice by declaring his admiration for Harvey Pekar. He just kept talking. And talking. Clearly not picking up on Jamie's "please go away..." vibes.
Because The League is a curious sort of fellow, we decided to let the events unfold naturally, with no intervention despite Jamie's telepathic cries for rescue. (a) I wanted to see how Jamie would handle it, (b) there's a chance jamie's just looking for the right opportunity to jump ship, and (c) did I really want to be the guy who puffs his chest and goes all monkey crazy because some dude is talking to his lady?
I think Jamie let the chap down rather easily, properly showing zero interest and letting him verbally paint himself into a corner from which the only escape was to feign interest in some nearby comics and wander off. This was after he talked a bit too much about how his ex-girlfriend just didn't get Harvey, even though she tried for his benefit.
At this point I re-entered the scene, excited to know that this gentleman would then tell his friends "And then she left with some dork who was looking for back issues of 'New Gods'! Who reads 'New Gods'? NERD!"
Being a girl in a comic shop is a frightening, frightening proposition. Still, I hope Jamie was at least a little flattered.
In reviewing the scene, I suspect that were The League flying a solo mission, we'd fair no better in trying to break the ice.
10) It. Just. Keeps. Raining.
Well, better than 110 days of continuous sunshine, I guess.
11) As soon as my membership to Hollywood video begins, I end it. I still am physically incapable of watching rented movies or returning them.
12) Today I bought these mints. How many mints come with a warning not to eat them if you have high blood pressure? Not too many. But my Mogo Mints sure as @#$% did. Scroll to the bottom left here to see the many, many health warnings associated with enjoying a Mogo Mint.
I'm working near campus which is why I think I'm discovering caffeine supplements again (I had Jolt Mints last week). I've been told a Quix near campus sells caffeine that, my co-worker informs me "you can mainline". I guess you can buy small tubes of powdered caffeine now.
If those items had been available in 1993-1998, I shudder to think of what a short, jittery life I might have led.
11) I shall not be viewing "Flavor of Love Girls: Charm School". Take the craziest girls from the first two seasons of Flavor of Love, remove Flav, give the girls semi-sociopathic advice that makes no sense... it's like watching someone disturb bee's nests for an hour.
What concerned me most was that the girl kicked off on the first episode clearly had rage issues, if not downright issues with her mental health, and she reached out to show host comedienne Mo'Nique. She was subsequently kicked off the show for showing weakness.
Apparently I missed the part of where becoming a better person means being a cut-throat jerk and refusing to see a shrink when you clearly need one.
I wanted to like the show. I really did. I was honestly shocked at the criteria the judges used in the elimination round.
12) Even more surprising for sheer evil is the new VH1 documentary show about the making of "The Jerry Springer Show" entitled "The Springer Hustle". Free of anything resembling scruples, the producers on Springer don't hide a thing as they work to get their guests into a fighting mood prior to releasing them onto the stage. Totally amazing to see folks who've so clearly lost sight of (or never had) basic human empathy as they try to outdo their fellow producers on a show that, ultimately, has absolutely no redeeming value.
13) I've also beenw atching Dogfights on History Channel. For some reason I find the show completely fascinating.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)