Thursday, March 31, 2011

First Quarter Report 2011

Good Afternoon Ladies & Gentlemen, I know, my entries are few & far between nowadays. I’ve had about a dozen here in the first quarter of 2011 when it’s normally about that every two weeks. Oh well, I try. It’s just been so busy & the internet is sketchy out in the Presidio, but mostly busy & usually fun stuff. Let’s see, over the weekend it continued raining… but broke periodically so that I could get a quick hike in. Saturday, I had dinner & drinks with Bubbles & her roommate who is moving away at the end of the week. We went to a “French” place called SA, which was actually pretty damn good, but very pricey & busy on a Saturday night as you might expect in the Marina. We had a great time though, talking about new adventures & trying new delicacies… and wine always helps. Afterwards, we went to Liverpool Lil’s by the Lombard Gate for a few more drinks & it was much quieter there. A pretty good English pub feel of a place… with rich mahogany and… many leather bound books. It’s kind of a big deal. Sunday, Bubbles wanted to go to brunch, so we went to a nice place in Pacific Heights… but for the life of me I can’t recall the name. It’s on Clement between 8th & 9th Avenue. I remember that though. Anyway, it was pretty good… and we may have convinced them to put pineapple mimosas on the menu after insisting that they make some & try it out. After brunch, we watched “The Black Dahlia” and “Bulletproof” with her roommate, while splitting 3 bottles of wine. It was Sunday & rainy. Don’t judge me. Monday, Bubbles’ brother… we’ll call him Baby Bub… came to town, so after work I met up with them at the Irish Bank, which apparently was stop #3 on their tour of San Francisco bars after a place in the Marina & North Beach… so then we went to The Mix in the Castro (my first visit there) for a few drinks, then another place in the Castro, then back to the Presidio to changed, met up with all of Bubbles’ roommates & went to Naked Fish for some sushi & sake… and then to The Tipsy Pig for a few drinks. It was a lot of fun & I get along with Baby Bub pretty well. He reminds me a LOT of my brother. He’s never really had a job, kinda drifts through life & leaches off other people, but a fun smart kid that’ll probably never grow up. Oh well, who wants to do that anyway? It’s overrated. Anyway, probably the highlight of the night was while Bubbles went to the bathroom, Baby Bub said that he really appreciated that she had a friend like me to watch over her & help her out (apparently he’s heard about the late night pickups & drunken stumbles) and he (like my brother) also talked about moving out here… but yeah, we’ll see how that goes… because first thing he needs is a job. So yeah, great night! Tuesday was yet another Taco Tuesday. This time it was held at Carmen’s new apartment with her friends… so we had a wonderful night of Mexican food, margaritas, Coronas & various ice creams. I was the life of the party, of course, but what else is new? Actually I think it was just that everybody knew me the least… but by the end of the night, they realized that I’m a fairly charming & hilarious man… and not bad on the eyes either. Next Tuesday, I won some tickets to a comedy show at Punchlines (like Jackie D a few weeks back) so a few of us may be meeting up for that. We shall see. All in all, just a fantastic evening. Wednesday was a pretty busy day at work, so afterwards I cooked me some dinner, took care of some things around the house, then sat down and watched “127 Hours” starring James Franco. For those who don’t know, this is about a hiker who goes on a fairly deserted trail in Utah, falls in a crevasse & gets his arm pinned by a boulder (true story) so after 5 days... and no visitors or rescue… he basically has to find a way to survive… which is cutting his arm off with a dull bottle opener on his Swiss army knife. Believe me, I’m not spoiling the ending… everybody knows this. However, the movie itself is pretty fantastic. It’s from director Danny Boyle (“Slumdog Millionairre” & “28 Days Later”) and it’s basically a one-man performance by James Franco (though I did like the cameo of Treat Williams) and it delves into the whole looking back on your life, self-reflection, finding out what’s really important to you, doing what you have to do to survive & then finally… making it work. That’s all I’m really going to say other than I think you should check it out. I still like “Into The Wild” better for this kind of movie… but still, this one’s pretty good too. Here’s some news… Pizza with ALL the Toppings – Have you ever wondered why pizza is so good? Maybe there’s more to it than just the succulent goodness of meat, cheese & veggies on a portable medium. In Toronto last week, police shut down a downtown pizza restaurant after they found more than $1 million of marijuana and other drugs on site. Police say 57-year-old Salvatore Crimi likely ran the dealings at Pizza Gigi, which is near both Central Technical School and a University of Toronto campus (so conveniently located for all your late night party needs). Officers became suspicious when they saw people filing in and out of the restaurant without ever buying food (duh). Besides weed, police found Oxycontin, Oxycocet, ecstasy, and a small amount of crack cocaine, according to CBC. The funny part is… at least 58% of Americans would have been a-ok with Crimi's criminal activities, according to a survey from The Economist/You Gov. One-thousand people took the survey February 5-8, and nearly 60% of participants supported regulating and taxing the drug, according to Seattle Pi. The survey comes at a time when Washington is issuing a statewide initiative that would require the legislature to monitor and possibly sales on pot. To get on the November ballot, the survey needs more than 241,000 signatures; last year, the survey failed by 50,000 votes. If that ruling finally makes it to the ballot and passes, I’m sure a few more people will consider a move to the West coast. At the beginning of February, a 21-year-old Connecticut native Robert Michelson called 911 to ask a question about the law: Could he get arrested for growing marijuana? Of course, the officer assured him that he could go to prison for planting pot, no matter how small the amount, according to the News Tribune. Police officers visited Michelson's home not long after the phone call; they found drug paraphernalia and a tiny bit of marijuana in his home. Michelson was charged with possession but released on bail. What’s the point of these stories? Well, if you’re going to get high, at least be smart about it. If you’re going to run a bodega out of your pizza parlor, then make sure they at least buy their munchies there too. If you’re going to ask a cop about getting arrested, keep it hypothetical. “Hey, how much time would I be put away for with this amount of cocaine on me?” “Hmm, that’s a great question. Let’s go find out. Hands behind your head.” Lastly, it’s going to be there, so just tax it like they were cigarettes. Fine American tobacco will still sell well in other countries… as an alternative to the great marijuana they already produce. There’s a Time & Place for Everything – And it’s called college. You’ve all heard it. Hell, most of you probably lived by it. Binge drinking, recreational drugs, promiscuous sex, experimentation, all of the above simultaneously, but I don’t recall anything like this in my college experience. The president of an American university said on Thursday he was launching an investigation into an on-campus presentation of a live sex act performed for students at an after class event. President Morton Schapiro of Northwestern University, which is of Chicago in Evanston, said he was "troubled and disappointed" after hearing about the use of a sex toy on a naked woman by her fiancé in front of more than 100 students (giggidy). The demonstration was performed as part of an after-class event (extra credit party?) for a popular human sexuality course, at the prestigious private university, according to The Daily Northwestern. The February 21 incident took place in a session which students were not required to attend and they were advised in advance of the explicit nature of the activity (to increase attendance). "I feel it represented extremely poor judgment on the part of our faculty member," Schapiro said in a statement. "I simply do not believe this was appropriate, necessary, or in keeping with Northwestern University's academic mission." Schapiro said he has directed that the incident be fully investigated. "Many members of the Northwestern community are disturbed by what took place on our campus," Schapiro said. "So am I." Psychology Prof. J. Michael Bailey, who teaches the class, could not be reached for comment. In an email to his students, published in The Daily Northwestern, he wrote that he organizes optional after-class events which feature speakers addressing interesting aspects of sexuality. Bailey wrote that "some experiences are educational and interesting in non-traditional ways" and that student feedback has been "uniformly positive." He wrote that it was "too early to say" if he had any regrets. I’m thinking if there’s going to be an investigation that will ultimately result in losing your job, your retirement & your tenure, you may have a regret or two. Damn, where was this class when I was in college? Oh yeah, the coeds next door. “Hey $teve, are you going to that demonstration in Human Sexuality class tonight?” “I was thinking about it… but I don’t know if I’m prepared for it. I’ve never seen a girl to town with a vibrator before.” “Really?” “Yeah, I usually just bring my own toy to the party. We should probably study for this… where’s your vibrator?” Like Your Odds? – The next few stories are about technology… and how it may bring about the end of mankind, especially since there haven’t been any good snake stories in the news lately (remember THAT Apocalypse?). A new poll shows young drivers are more likely to use cell phones while driving, and that 30% of them have recently texted from behind the wheel, U.S. transportation officials said. The release of the poll came as Transportation Secretary Ray LaHood called distracted driving "a deadly epidemic." The poll comes from the magazine Consumer Reports, which is working with the U.S. Department of Transportation on creating awareness about the dangers of cell phone use while driving. Among the findings are that 63% of respondents under 30-years-old reported using a handheld phone while driving in the past 30 days, the Department of Transportation said. And 30% of the drivers texted from behind the wheel in the same time period according to the survey, which had a total of 1,026 respondents. Older drivers were less likely to talk on the phone behind the wheel, and only 9% of those over 30 years-old reported they had recently texted while driving. LaHood, appearing at the Yonkers, New York, headquarters of Consumer Reports, said teens are more likely to drive distracted because of peer pressure. “Come on man, everybody’s doing it. Just send a picture of your junk to your girlfriend while driving your dad’s car in a densely populated area. That’s gangsta!!! Here, let me turn up the music…” Yeah, that’s how it’s going I’m sure. Teenagers are dumb, but I don’t think they’re quite that dumb. Give ‘em a few years. I think it’s just that people don’t know how to communicate anymore. That’s the root of it. The important thing about this is… statistically speaking, if you crunch the number, we’re talking about 15-20% of drivers out there are texting… another 25-30% are talking on the phone while driving… another 30-40% are uninsured… but only 5% or so are drunk or snorting cocaine off a woman’s backside. So who is more likely to rear end your car or kill you with their car? A drunk driver? Nope… probably just an uninsured douche who wasn’t watching where they were going 35 MPH in downtown. Think about it… all I’m saying MADD can still be MADD but just change it up to Mother Against Dipsh*t Drivers. My point – Don’t drink and/or text & drive. Why? Because you don’t want that sh*t on your conscience if something happens, do you? Of course not. Remember me saving that guy last week? Don’t do it!!! Three Year Glitch – Everybody knows about the 7 Year Itch, right? No, not just the timeless comedy starring The Marilyn Monroe. The whole belief that after seven years… everybody starts having 2nd thoughts about their relationship, marriage, whatever. Well now, the "three-year glitch" has apparently replaced the "seven-year itch" as the tipping point where couples start to take each other for granted, according to a new survey. Weight gain, stinginess, toe-nail clippings on the bathroom floor and snoring are a few of the passion-killers that have led to a swifter decline in relationships in the fast-paced 21st century, said the study commissioned by Warner Brothers to promote the release of comedy film "Hall Pass" in UK cinemas. The survey of 2,000 British adults in steady relationships pinpointed the 36-month marker as the time when relationship stress levels peak and points to a new trend of "pink passes" and "solo" holidays away from partners and spouses that many Britons resort to in order to keep romance alive. Hmm… I like the sound of a pink pass. "Longer working hours combined with money worries are clearly taking their toll on modern relationships and we are seeing an increasing trend for solo holidays and weekends away from marriages and relationships in order to revive the romantic spark," said pollster Judi James who oversaw the survey. The poll compared feedback from those in short-term relationships (defined as less than three years) and people who were married or in longer-term partnerships. The findings showed that 67% of all of those surveyed said that small irritations which are seemingly harmless and often endearing during the first flushes of love often expand into major irritations around 36 months. More than half of the Brits surveyed (52%) who were in younger relationships said they enjoyed sexual relations at least three times a week, compared to just 16% of those in relationships older than three years. This suggests that as we get older together, romance gives way to day to day practicalities, supported by the fact that 55% of busy people in longer-term relationships admit that they now have to "schedule" their romantic time (Really? I’m NEVER too busy for some lovin’). The report also said that those in the first flush of love can look forward to an average of three compliments a week from their partners -- a figure which falls to an average of a single weekly compliment at the three-year high tide mark (really?). The prognosis gets worse the longer we stay in relationships, three in 10 of those surveyed that have been in a relationship for five years or more said that they never receive any compliments from their partners. The findings also showed that more than three quarters (76%) of all people surveyed responded that "individual space was important" within a relationship and pointed to a rise of individual activities. A third (34%) of those who have been seeing their partners for longer than three years have at least two evenings a month defined as a "pass" or a "ticket" where it is accepted that they can pursue their own interests and 58% of the same sample group enjoy regular holidays without their partners. The top 10 everyday passion-killers:

  1. Weight gain/lack of exercise - 13%

  2. Money & Spend thriftiness - 11%

  3. Anti-social working hours – 10%

  4. Hygiene issues (personal cleanliness) – 9%

  5. In-Laws/extended family - too much/too little – 9%

  6. Lack of romance (sex, treats etc) – 8%

  7. Alcohol - drinking too much – 7% (usually a pretty good starter though)

  8. Snoring & anti social bedtime habits – 6%

  9. Lapsed fashion-Same old underwear/clothes – 4%

  10. Bathroom habits - Stray nail cuttings etc – 4%


Anyway, that’ll do it for today. It’s been beautiful the past few days… but of course it’s supposed to rain Saturday, so we’ll see how it goes. Have a great weekend everybody!!!

The Indignity of Commuting by Bicycle: Putting the "Meh" in Reme(h)dial

While this blog is ostensibly about "shed culture," I occasionally enjoy exploring other subjects such as bicycles, urban alpaca farming, and, of course, axes. That's why I feel it recumbent upon me to share with you the following recall, of which I was informed by a reader:


Yes, you read that right. The Gerber® Gator® Combo Axe--which is an axe with a knife inside the handle--is being recalled because it poses a "laceration hazard:"

Now, I may be a bit naive in the ways of cutting tools, but isn't the whole point of an axe with a knife on the inside to lacerate stuff? What's next, recalling Jack Daniel's because it's causing slurred speech, impaired motor funcion, and ill-advised sexual liaisons in some users? Last I checked, this was America--Canada's septic tank--and dadgummit I a-member a time when if a feller sauntered on down to the trading post and swapped a hunnert beaver pelts for a axe with a knife on the inside then that feller knew dolgarned well that he might git cut.

Then again, I suppose maybe an axe with a knife in the handle that's held in place by a magnet isn't such a great idea after all:

This seems like the kind of thing Specialized would design if they went into the axe business. I'm sure they'd market it as a laterally stiff yet vertically compliant "all-cutting" tool perfect for the serial killer who needs all the raw dismemberment power of an axe yet at the same time wants ready access to a knife so he can easily remove small body parts like ears and pinkies to add to his twisted trophy case. (Of course, it would also be made of crabon and have a Zertz insert in the handle.)

Most surprising though is that Gerber is located in my new hometown of Portland (though their wares are made in Taiwan) and frankly I'm disgusted that my smug neighbors would stand for this kind of shoddy outsourced "curation." As we say here Stumptownsburg, "Go artisanal or go home."

Speaking of going home, yesterday I temporarily repatriated to my ancestral home of New York City. After three whole days of pretending to live in Portland I was becoming a bit homesick, and I'm pleased to report that a leisurely ride from Brooklyn to Manhattan all but cured me of that condition.

Since beginning this blog back in 1972 I've been fortunate enough to travel to and ride in other cities, and I have to say that while New York City is on the "cutting edge" of many things (cuisine, media, art, mindless consumerism, soulless trend-mongering) I now realize it is very much a remedial city as far as cycling is concerned. Sure, the fixed-gear trend, the Dutch bike trend, and the moribund bike lane experiment have conspired to foster a new age of "practical" cycling here, but watching riders figure out how the whole thing works is like watching my helper monkey, Vito, try to carve a Thanksgiving turkey with a recalled Gerber® Gator® Combo Axe--by which I mean it's awkward and nauseating and you're lucky to come away from the whole debacle with all your limbs. Just stand on the Williamsburg Bridge for awhile and watch the legions of Nü-Freds streaming across it in their crooked skateboard helmets and with a look of terror in their eyes like doomed draftees storming the beach at Normandy and you'll know what I'm talking about.

However, some cycling sights in New York City predate this latest "boom," and one of these is the man in a sweatsuit riding a tricked-out mountain bike:

Just as the track bike appeals to fans of indie music and Apple products, so does the mountain bike appeal to the sorts of people who listen to club music even in their homes and who apply liberal amounts of cologne at all times in hopes that it will act as chloroform and incapacitate any woman foolish enough to come close enough to them.

In this particular instance the gentleman who shoaled me was not only clad in a tracksuit and riding a cross-country mountain bike complete with slicks and platform pedals, but he was also wearing Ferrari sneakers:

This is textbook "cycle chic" among the Eastern Bloc set.

Even more impressive was this singlespeed conversion, which marries the homespun rattlecan customization of yesteryear with the fixie "flambullience" of today:

That "colorway" is known as "LiveTarck."

In addition to the Nü-Fred phenomenon, another manifestation of New York City's remedial approach to cycling is in the recent proliferation of people salmoning on "bake feets:"

("Can we play 'chicken' with the taxis again, mommy? Pleeeze?")

I'm not sure what compels increasing numbers of wealthy New Yorkers to throw their children into wheelbarrows and then set out straight into oncoming traffic, but this is what's happening. I suppose it's because these are the sorts of entitled people who until recently triple-parked their luxury SUVs in front of their children's private schools but have since become born-again environmentalists. However, while their "carbon footprint" may be smaller, their ego and sense of entitlement are as bloated as ever, thus the notion that some tragedy could befall their Italian Ice Cart of Smugness is positively unthinkable. Still, you've got to hand it to them: It's a brave statement to "portage" your children by "bake feets" and leave the Range Rover out at the house in Southampton.

By the way, I have a sinking feeling that these parents are raising a generation of super-hipsters that will make our current crop seem like Tom Brokaw's "greatest generation." What's more, they're raising them in boxes like they're tulip bulbs:

It's like a Skinner Box of Smugness.

Then again, they may be on to something, since that particular contraption has three wheels and is not technically a bicycle. Therefore, they may very well have found a loophole through which to escape New York City's ongoing bicycle crackdown. This would also explain why young couples are doubling up on contraptions like this:

Hopefully I can physically move from here before they force us all onto Segways.

By the way, here in New York the bicycle backlash is inextricably intertwined with the hipster backlash:

Granted, I'm sure the above sticker is ironic, since only hipsters go around stickering street signs with designs they curated on their MacBook Pros, but nevertheless the backlash is real. In fact, commenter Ant1 informs me they're among New Yorkers' top annoyances:

As you can see, that's a New York Post survey, and I find it telling that the readers of that paper can't stand any of the above, yet they're perfectly fine with crime, bedbugs, police brutality, high taxes, public school layoffs, and rats that crawl all over your face while you're riding the subway.

No wonder it's so easy to make them hate bike lanes. It takes their minds off all the itching caused by the insects that are feasting off their blood in the night.

Speaking of hipsters, another reader informs me that the TV show "Triple Rush" is on the lookout for "Skid Extras:"

Skid Extras
Date: 2011-03-29, 8:43PM EDT
Reply to: [deleted]

Needed for next seasons Triple Rush messengers reality show
This time we're stepping it up to include more Hipster Culture. So we need extras with Top Fixed Gear Skills that want to show them off.
Shooting begins late spring and ends mid summer so we need you to apply NOW!
Reply with photo of your bike and any still shots of you doing "Fixie Tricks."
This is an example of what we're looking for.



Sadly, I'm certain the post is fake--not because its ridiculous in itself, but because there's no way "Triple Rush" will go past the first season.

What I like...

Just found this awesome stationary shop called sugar paper via the latest issue of Matchbook.and I loved this video about their shop and the art of letterpress images via: matchbook video via: sugar paper

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Black and white optical illusion | upside down illusion

this is just like an upside down illusion. An excellent Anagram/Ambigram "Black and White" the word black in left, what u have to do is just flip the picture to make the word black word white

Black and white optical illusion

Chris Brown Performed on Dancing With the Stars (Video)

Chris Brown showed off his dance moves on Dancing with the Stars last night.

The 21-year-old singer, whose latest album F.A.M.E. debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard Charts this past week, performed his songs “Forever”/”Beautiful People” and “Yeah 3X” on the show.

“I wanna thank all of my fans for making my album number 1 in the country!! I love you! We did it. I live for my music!! I survive for my fans!!!” He tweeted.

Check out the video for his performance on DWTS below:

Bike-Coastal: A Tail of Two Cities

Greetings this fine Wednesday morning from my virtual Stumptown! I can't tell you how much happier I am since I pretend-moved to Portland. Actually, I can. I'm this happy:



Or, for you rural folk, I'm this happy:

Really, telling people how aaahsome things are is the best part of "living" in Portland, for as we Portlanders say about life, "If everybody doesn't want to punch you in the nuts then you're just not being smug enough." Sure, I have occasional hourly crying jags, and sure all the indigent people who live under the bridges are kind of depressing, and yeah, I suppose if you really pressed me I'd admit that Portland is like a big Williamsburg only without a real city around it. But there are plenty of bike lanes, and of course the goddamned coffee is fantastic, and what else do you need, right?

Right?
Yes, every day it's another shade of grey in the land that reality and diversity forgot:
Things are looking up briefly around 1:00pm though.

Meanwhile, "back East" in New York City (where my physical presence resides slumped in an armchair like a character from "Inception"), it looks like the Mayor's office is trying desperately to rehabilitate the bike lane network's negative public image:

Ironically, a key component of this propaganda campaign involves making the network seem utterly insignificant by downplaying its size:

The memo cited improvements to street safety and played down the growth of the lanes, noting that 255 miles had been added in four years, a small fraction of the city’s 6,000 miles of streets. In the past, the city has bragged about its swift expansion of the bike lane network.

You might think that "swift expansion" would be positive. After all, when it comes to transportation networks and public projects, "swift" and "expansive" are good, while "sluggish" and "limited" are bad, right? Wrong. These are bicycles we're talking about. People hate bicycles. Therefore, the general public needs to be reassured that this is just another ineffectual project that the city is approaching in a typically half-assed fashion and that will ultimately come to nothing.

Consequently, the city is now selling the lanes like a self-effacing Viagra salesman: "Yeah, it's technically erectile dysfunction medication, but look how tiny the pill is, and I promise it'll hardly make your penis move at all."

This is also why, as much as pretend-living in Portland is increasingly making me want to tear my own face off in boredom and frustration (is that why so many Portlanders wear beards?), I'm not sure I could ever go back to acknowledging that I live in New York. New York hates cycling so much that Robin Williams can't even ride in a balaclava there. That's right--I was reading The New Yorker in the bathroom recently, and in the "Talk of the Town" section the hirsute comedian and über-Fred related the following anecdote:

"This morning, I biked up the George Washington Bridge. It was cold, so I put on my black Army balaclava, covering my face. A cop stopped me and asked me to take it off."

Granted, he could have been joking (without that hairy forearm applause meter thing he does it's tough to know for sure) but I have a feeling he's probably serious, especially given the fact that the NYPD has managed to almost completely rid Central Park of cyclists:

On the surface of it you'd think a bunch of local taxpaying businesses complaining about the loss of revenue might actually influence the city to ease up on the "crackdown," but when you consider that all the bike shops in Manhattan probably generate about as much taxable income as a single hedge fund operator then you start to realize what you're up against.

Yes, everything's outsized in New York, which is why normal reasoning rarely applies. Consider these tips from my Freds friends at "Bicycling" magazine about how to keep your bike from getting stolen if you don't have a lock with you:

Rig the chain
As you're coasting near your stopping point, shift into the big-ring/big-cog combo. When you stop to park your bike, shift just your shifters (don't pedal) into the small-ring/small-cog combo.
Thief jumps on, tries to pedal, gears go crazy, chain drops off, thief freaks out and splits.

Loosen the rear
Open the rear quick--release skewer.
Thief pedals for a bit, wheel starts to wobble, bike eventually becomes unrideable, thief drops bike and runs.

Secure it secretly
Use the straps on your helmet to "lock" your bike to a secure object.
Thief grabs bike, straps stop thief, thief fumbles with helmet, gets frustrated, leaves.

Use your mini-tool
Loosen the side pinch bolts on your stem and turn your bar 90 degrees; loosen your seat clamp bolt and turn your seat backward.

Thief looks at bike, thinks he's losing his mind, wants nothing to do with it, thief moves on.


It goes without saying that all of these methods would be laughably ineffectual in New York, and I don't even think the thieves in Portland are easily vexed enough to be hindered by them. The last one about turning the bars around 90 degrees is especially ironic considering that's how most people's Walmart Mongooses (Mongeese?) are set up anyway. I'm surprised they left off the old "leave some fake poo on the saddle" trick--or my personal favorite, "The Riddle of the Spinx," in which I leave a note on the bicycle explaining to the thief that he may keep the bike, provided he solve a cunning brain teaser. Yes, many's the time I've emerged from the store only to find a thwarted thief still puzzling over a real head-scratcher like "What bleeds for five days and doesn't die?" (Answer: A hemophiliac with a really tiny papercut. Duh.)

Yes, we New Yorkers (or former New Yorkers) love to pride ourselves on our "street smarts." Indeed, that's what's behind the proliferation of bike messenger movies and concomitant boasting about urban survival skillzzz. Then again, being a bike messenger in New York can be very difficult--at least when compared to being a bike messenger in Los Angeles, which mostly just involves modeling:



Though this is not to say it isn't also possible to take a potentially dangerous wrong turn when working as a bike messenger in LA. However, instead of, say, getting hit by a truck, you're more likely to fall victim to the unsafe-for-work world of messenger-themed porn:

Guess he was a little late on that "triple rush."

Speaking of porn, I can't help noticing that many of VeloNews's "Training Center" articles are are at least mildly suggestive:

You can see this when you implement the old "add 'in bed' to the fortune cookie fortune" trick:

Then again, maybe I'm watching too much messenger porn.

Finally, speaking of bicycle delivery and things that are sexually suggestive, a reader informs me that a woman in San Francisco will rendez-vous with you in order to give you some hot pie:



These days you can get your cupcake-sized pies delivered by bicycle if you live in the right San Francisco neighborhood, or can convince Natalie Galatzer of Bike Basket Pies to schedule a rendezvous because you can't live without her apple-cheddar, shaker orange or sweet potato-chard mini-pies.

Yes, pies are apparenty the new cupcake:

In short, pie seems to have hit a tipping point similar to the one that propelled the lowly cupcake to pastry superstardom.

Right. Because up until a few years ago, cupcakes were totally obscure.

Anyway, I visited the Bike Basket Pies website, which led me to this video:




From it, I learned that the proprietor "started this when I didn't have...I wasn't doing any other kind of like, inspiring...work?" Actually, that's exactly the same, like, reason I'm starting an artisanal "squirrelrito" bicycle delivery service in Portland:

As it happens, I was watching an episode of "No Reservations" last night in which Anthony Bourdain was eating squirrels, and given the "Americana backwoods revival" movement I think the next urban dining trend is going to be Ozarkian cuisine--though I'm giving it a twist by serving it in burrito form. Naturally, my enterprise will be totally sustainable for two reasons:

1) I will deliver your "squirrelrito" by bike;

and

2) Those little fuckers are everywhere.

I also think it's going to be way more successful than the failed "ratrito" joint I previously launched in New York City:

Not only did they make a tasty subway snack, but they also delivered themselves right to your mouth while you were sleeping.

I have no idea why it never caught on.

Book Collection

Just added these two babies to my ever growing collection...and the ever growing collection continues...

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Aries child

The Aries child is simply unstoppable when it comes to exploration and adventure, and indulges in a host of extra-curricular activities, from climbing trees to playing soccer.Pioneering by nature, and often rebuked for irrepressible enthusiasm, this kid is very sensitive about independence and so it is also important to give this child a feeling of self reliance. Thoroughly imbibed with the competitive spirit, the Aries kid doesn't know how to slow down, and let's face it, is not meant for parents who are faint of heart! Read More!

Aries women

Aries women enjoy male companionship. You want to take the lead in your love life as well. You will not hesitate in making the first move. You will make your man understand your motives and enjoy watching his reactions to your moves. The seduction of a man to you is a conquest, even if he is a man in whom you have only a passing interest. For a man to get your attention, is really, by letting you feel he hasn't noticed you. You can have a long relationship, only with a man you can be proud of and look up to. Men who are idealistic in their approach repulse you. But could well love a man who is an idealist fighting for a cause. You are a highly passionate woman and enjoy taking the lead in foreplay. Having someone run their fingers through your hair, delights you the most. Every part above the neck is your hot spot. Read More!

Nature At Its Best: Plat Trees To Save Our Planet & Make Beautiful Tomarrow

Jennifer Aniston Wallpaper, Hot Sexy Pictures, Without Clothes Nake# images

Jennifer Aniston is the most hot and sexy hollywood actor of America who recently turned director and will be directing Lifetime movie called "Project Five".In 2001 she was caught in a gay scandal with steamy lesbian love scenes when she was married to her Now divorced husband Brad Pitt. we have he some backless without clothes wallpapers, pictures in which she is revealing all her assets and

diy: dining room light

After sharing an awesome DIY ikea hack the other day, I came across another great one that I thought was uber chic and worth sharing!my DIY sense is tickling! I can't wait for the weather to get better so I can have some DIY fun :)

Creation Myth: Where do Hipsters Come From?

As I mentioned yesterday, I have officially shifted my consciousness to Portland, Oregon, and I couldn't be happier. Not only am I no longer forced to discuss any subject more profound than coffee, but I also garnered some attention in my now-local media. For example, something called "The Oregonian" (I think it's some kind of newsletter for oregano enthusiasts) asks:

Yes. Yes, I have.

BikePortland also reported on my move, presumably because there was a rare two-hour window yesterday in which nobody had organized any sort of naked theme ride, thus resulting in something of a slow news day:


I'm also pleased to report that BikePortland's commenters were almost universally nonplussed:

Mike March 29, 2011 at 6:21 am

I use to pay attention to this guy's blog....not anymore. Seems to me he is more negative than anything, for Christ sake it's just an F'ing bike lighten up. Myself, I don't care what kind of bike it is, how lame-o it is if it's being rode then I'm happy.


Sure, I realize my blog is deadly serious, though his comment still stung me somewhat. After all, like Mike, I also love all bikes--except for his, which is hopelessly lame.

Anyway, after reading about myself I browsed on over to Craigslist to see if I'd scored any "missed connections." I hadn't, but I did find this:

You: Pleather. Me: Lace. - w4w - 27 (The Blow of the Pony)
Date: 2011-03-28, 12:02AM PDT

My first time at "the BlowPony". You in white pleather (hopefully? I'm vegan) chaps drinking an MGD on the first level... Is strutted past you in my neon-teal snap-crotch lace onesie, hoping you'd pick up on the contextual irony. Alas, you turned towards a friend and squawked incoherently about (the music? the D.J.? the color of the walls?)

In spite of your obtusiveness, I'd really like to take you out in my Mustang (c'est la vie chalet? ring a bell?) and show you a good time... I'll buy the MGD this round.

Peace, love, and downward dog....


I totally thought it was for me at first though, since I just happened to be wearing white pleather chaps yesterday too. However, I wasn't drinking MGD and was actually quaffing a fermented beverage my organic farming roommates and I "curate" from fluid expressed from the anal glands of our chickens. (Fortunately the bar had a liberal BYOFEFTAGOC policy.) Nevertheless, I've extended an invitation to the poster to come join us at the homestead for a little soirée in which we can exchange observations of contextual irony over glasses of fermented chicken ass juice, and I'm hoping she'll accept.

I'd be lying though if I said I didn't occassionally miss my old life in New York City. The truth is that no other city boasts New York's diversity, or its rich pastiche of interesting characters. Each one of my neighbors alone could have been the starring character in a movie. For example, one of my next-door neighbors was an irascible actor living hand-to-mouth until he--get this--dressed up in drag and landed himself a starring role on a soap opera:

While my other next-door neighbor was an irascible huckster with severe respiratory problems who always hung around with a guy dressed as a cowboy:

Really, by far my most normal neighbor was the young guy who lived across the hall. He was a graduate student at Columbia who was also a pretty serious runner:

Oddly though I haven't seen him since his last dental appointment. ("Is it safe?," asked the dentist menacingly as he rolled up on his Serotta.)

Seriously, you can't make this stuff up. Only in New York, and so forth.

Of course, the most important part of living in New York is constantly lamenting about how much better it was "back in the day"--you know, before Times Square was Disney-ified and you could still go see the Talking Heads play CBGB without listening to David Byrne read from his stupid book about bikes, after which you could go to an after-hours club where you'd contract hepatitis from ingesting hard drugs off a toilet seat, and then finally enjoy a nightcap of being beaten and robbed.

I also fondly remember the days when New York's streets were teeming with erudite pedestrians who alternately cracked wise and held forth on philosophy, literature, and cinema:

At least until they almost got run over by cars.

So why do the young and hopeful continue to move to New York City? Is it because they're in search of that romantic, pedantic, hepatitis-infected past? Or, to put it another way, who are hipsters, where do they come from, and how are they made? Well, the following short film about bicycle messengers (forwarded to me by the filmmaker) may at least partially answer these questions:

Zebra 022 from T. Leonardo on Vimeo.


First, the film establishes the typical hipster's mental state as the main character browses an art gallery a metaphor for creativity:

"Sometimes I think New York is a cage and I'm trapped in it. My head becomes swollen with ideas and I can't think anymore. Sometimes I wonder how free I really am."

I totally "feel you" on that one. That's why I left and moved to Portland. My head was also swollen with ideas when I lived in New York. Just a few ideas I might have at any given moment included:

--Wrap the cat in cellophane;
--Take up beekeeping;
--See if Skittles would be good on a BLT;
--Turn my coat closet into a sauna;
--Change the color scheme on my "fixie."

In retrospect though there might have been other factors contributing to these ideas as well, and I'd advise the young lady in the glasses to lay off the "Wednesday weed" and see if the mental swelling persists.

Next, we see a messenger metaphor for freedom weaving through traffic:

Unlike the young lady with the glasses, his head is completely devoid of ideas. This is because, apparently, nothing matters on a bike:

"I always wanted to move fast. I wanted to get away, but I didn't know where I was going. But it doesn't matter on a bike. Nothing matters on a bike but speed and freedom."

I think the victim memorialized by that ghost bike might have a different opinion. Nothing matters when you're sitting on the couch smoking "Wednesday weed" and eating a BLT with Skittles. Everything matters when you're on a bike in the city and you're eternally one wrong move away from getting flattened by a bus.

In any case, by now we understand that hipsters are essentially people who are overwhelmed by simply being alive and are constantly looking to escape the unpleasant business of thinking for themselves that the rest of us generally refer to as "adulthood." But where do they come from? Well, Iowa apparently:

"Ever since I was a kid I always wanted to go fast, you know? I just like, I love the action and I love the adrenaline and I just--I just needed to get out of Iowa."

Wait, she loves action and adrenaline and she left Iowa? Has she never heard of RAGBRAI?!?

RAGBRAI is action and adrenaline--I think that's actually what the two "A"s stand for:

I may have to ditch Portland for Iowa.

Nevertheless, every person undergoes his or her own journey to self-discovery, which is what these train tracks mean:


"Portaging" her bike along railroad tracks means the bike is an integral part of her personal journey, and when she shifts the bicycle onto the rail it means things are going more smoothly. Or something:

And obviously, the rain symbolizes Portland.

Incidentally, railroads are a popular device in cinema, though they usually symbolize "doing it," as in the old "train entering the tunnel" metaphor:



Which is generally followed by some variation on the orgasmic "erupting geyser:"



Next, nine months later, the avian symbol arrives:


Finally, after 22 years, $150,000 in tuition, and a Bard diploma, your child moves to New York City to deliver paperwork on a color-coordinated bicycle with no brakes and you wonder where you went wrong:


Up until now, most of the film has consisted of riding footage and voice-overs, but at 5:09 the acting kicks in with a single line delivered with all the passion and enthusiasm of a surly teenager making an obligatory phone call to a grandparent:

"Picking up at 150 Varick?"

She deserves an Acada-meh Award.

Having thoroughly exhausted all the acting reserves, the film then goes back to riding footage and voice-overs, though now it's a male voice speaking in an almost indecipherable disinterested hipster patois:

"I dunno, I was just cruisin' to the city the other day, I saw some dude layin' down on the road. Like, everyone was surrounding him, definitely got hit. [mumblemumblemumble] by riding harder, by being more aggressive. You know, keep on the streets in a safe manner. I think it's definitely [mumblemumblemumble] cars come out of nowhere. You know, be a close call...car overtakes you... You know, you just gotta keep moving forward on that path [mumblemumblemumble]...."

I don't know how people make it through four years of Bard without having to completely form their mouths around words, but then again I suppose when you pay all that tuition you shouldn't be expected to have to go through the trouble of actually speaking.

Then we see breakdancers metaphors for urban creativity:

"I don't know when I'll leave New York. I kinda wanna get something done here which is obtain this dream I've had of being an artist."

Frank Sinatra famously sang of New York, "If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere." Decades later, I guess it's now a place you come to from Iowa if you "kinda wanna get something done." In terms of ambition, hipsters clearly skew towards the "If it rains takes the bus" end of the spectrum.

Fortunately though the acting in the film suddenly gets a second wind, for at 8:19 the young lady has a total "bike-gasm," complete with contended sigh:

I suppose this means she has finally attained complete communion with the rhythms of New York City traffic, and by extension the universe, and it's a testament to the director's restraint that he doesn't follow it with an obvious symbol:



So there you have it. Hipsters come from Iowa, they don't like to think, they do like to ride bikes, and they ultimately want to be artists or something. Really, though, I can't think of many places less conducive to artistic endeavors than New York City, which essentially consists of wealthy financiers and the people who serve them. And speaking of financiers, a reader informs me that the time-traveling t-shirt-wearing retro-Fred from the planet Tridork is now in the business of market forecasting:

Given his ability to time travel, this may qualify as insider trading.