To be honest, I wasn't going to do a Brain Fart today seeing as I was gone all weekend at Winter Camp 2011 at Mt. Snow, shredding fresh powder like Picabo Street in her prime even though it was only my second time out. But I decided I couldn't do that to you people, because I know you rely on me to help you waste time at work. So on with the festivites!
The Rangers beat the Capitals (again!) in a shootout last Monday, but did Steve see it? Noooooooo, because OUR BUILDING DOESN'T GET VERSUS. First off, NHL - get off Versus. It's a shitty channel. Second, my building - negotiate your shit with DirecTV so I can get the channel and watch hockey. ENOUGH WITH THE BULLSHIT.
Ohio St.'s basketball players are vocally gifted:
I saw my first episode of Spartacus: Gods of the Arena the other day, and if you like blood and titties, this is your jam! Also, if you are a fan of Xena: Warrior Princess (and obviously have no friends) because you think Lucy Lawless is hot, then check it out because you get to see her funbags.
This makes me sweat. God bless David Tyree.
I love that they're taking Jersey Shore to Italy next season, seeing as they can't even function as legitimate human beings when everyone around them speaks English. It should be EPIC. Also, that show has the most amazing comedic timing, such as when Ronnie and Sam were fighting (again...) and Pauly D came into the background with a birthday cake for Ryder. Good lord, what a fantastic show. I'm surprised the Emmy's haven't come calling yet.
SERIOUSLY, ENOUGH WITH THE FUCKING SNOW. Wait. What's that you say? It's snowing again tomorrow? Fuck me.
Seriously, who gives a shit about the X Games? It's just a bunch of cool "rebels" who hate their parents doing tricks on boards while some guy screams out, "Holy crap! He just did a 1230 Double McMuffin Twistie SpinFlip! That was SSIIIIICCKK!!" It also is annoying because ESPN shows all that shit at night instead of something that people actually want to watch, like SportsCenter. I just don't get it.
This guy has some serious issues, though I guess his girl doesn't talk back to him, so maybe he's on to something?
This past week was the 20th anniversary of Wide Right! Ah, the memories! Bills fans, your thoughts?
I saw Scott Pilgrim vs. The World over the weekend, which was a movie I never had the inclination to ever see, seeing as it just looked like another emo cry-fest where Michael Cera plays the same character that he plays in every movie. The verdict? It's totally AWESOME. You need to check that shit out if you haven't already.
Flipping channels last night, I stumbled across the end of some documentary or show or whatever about how beer saved the world and made America what it is today. I forget what it's called, didn't write it down, and can't find it on Google, but I wholeheartedly agree.
And finally, while up in Vermont showing people that what Sean White does is really no big thang, me and my friends began spreading the doctrine of Friendship in '11. Basically, you should be as friendly as you can whenever you can, and people will recognize you with Friendship Points, which make everyone feel great. The more Friendship Points, the better this world will be. Think there would be so much strife in the Middle East if they began handing out Friendship Points? Absolutely not. Think World War II happens if the Nazi's were receiving Friendship Points? God no. Think J-Wowww and Sam would be punching the shit out of each other if The Situation was just handing out Friendship Points? No way! Point is, let's all start handing out and earning Friendship Points, and you'll see just how great life can be.
Friendship!
1/31/11
1/24/11
MMBF - 1/24: WHO WILL I PICK??
Greetings everyone, and welcome to the Monday Morning Brain Fart, which you're most likely reading on Tuesday seeing as I neglected to do this on Sunday night. And by you I mean the 3 people who still come to this site. I feel like writing letters to people. POO BUTT OR WALK.
Dear Mayor Jeremiah Healy (or Daddy),
Please fix the traffic light pattern on Washington Blvd. It's fucking stupid that every time a light turns green, the next one, which is only about 20 feet away, turns red. It's like a fucking 20 foot drag race between each light. Not to mention I'm going to kill someone who jaywalks one day, and it may or may not be accidental. Fix that shit.
Dear Winter,
Please be over. We here in Jersey don't want to know what it's like to live in Buffalo, Canada. Global warming my ass.
Dear Antrel Rolle,
The offseason just freaking started and already you're opening your mouth and saying dumb shit. Just shut the hell up and lift weights or something. Tom Coughlin is not Rex Ryan. You probably knew this when you signed a $35 million contract with us. Football will be fun if/when you actually make the playoffs.
Dear Snooki,
You are an incredible human being, and I feel blessed to have you in my life. When you said you were giving up drinking, and then said, "I think Pinot's ok. Pregnant people do it."... I really couldn't have thought of anything smarter to say at that very moment. And thank you for being such a disaster that they showed 2 episodes of Jersey Shore last week. When does your book come out? Oh yeah, and thank you for introducing me to the word "Cooka." That shit is hilarious!
Dear Rangers fans,
I'm sorry for Brandon Dubinsky getting hurt. It is 100% my fault, and I take full responsibility. In football, I am cursed, but I thought it stopped at that. I have bought 3 Giants jerseys: Jeremy Shockey, Plaxico Burress and Rodney Hampton. Shockey turned into a psycho, Burress shot himself, and Hampton got fat in retirement. I have been given 4 as gifts: Ike Hilliard, Tiki Barber, Eli Manning and Justin Tuck. Hilliard had a solid career, Tiki is the greatest running back in our history even though he's a douche, Eli is the cutest Super Bowl MVP ever, and Tuck is one of the best defensive linemen in the game. So as you can see, I curse people when I buy jerseys. But like I said, I thought it stopped at football. So a couple weeks ago, I bought a Brandon Dubinsky jersey... and now he has a stress fracture in his leg. So for this, I apologize. I should have known better.
Dear Residents of Portofino in the JC who own dogs that aren't named Dexter,
Pick up your fucking dog's shit. It's disgusting when you go to the dog run to toss a tennis ball around and you have to step around dried up shit. Besides, most of you have shitty little rats as dogs, so the poop can't possibly be that big. Pick it up.
Dear Comedy Central,
Pull the plug on Onion SportsDome. Onion sports videos are funny in moderation, perhaps one quick viewing at a time. The whole show? Not that good. Really not that funny. In fact, it kinda sucks.
Dear People Playing Me in Wii Goldeneye,
That dapper man in the white suit killing you every time you turn around? Yeah that's me, Scaramanga. I own your shit.
Dear Newport Centre Mall Taco Bell,
I know I've mentioned this before, but thank you again for being one of the finest Taco Bell's around. Your beefy 5-layer burrito is one of the best, cleanly put together so that it does not run all over the place, yet still loaded with flavor and happiness. Plus, your cheesy gordita crunches are some of the few that don't stick to the paper when you unwrap them. Kudos, technicians of wonderment.
And on that note,
Dear Taco Bell,
The new beefy crunch burrito that has the spicy Fritos in it? Not a great idea. The Fritos end up kind of mushy, so the crunch aspect just doesn't work. You're better than this.
Dear Reader of this blog,
My apologies if this sucks. I'm listening to the Rangers on the radio at the moment because we don't have fucking Versus. So if I seem distracted... now you know why.
Speaking of the Rangers -
Dear Marion Gaborik,
Thank you for finally scoring in a hockey game. Now please do it more often than just once in every 8 games. We pay you to score goals, remember?
Dear Harbor Casino in JC,
You're a fun bar. A little divey. Darts. Cheap booze. Not overly crowded. LOVE IT. You'll be seeing me more from now on.
MOVIES I SAW RECENTLY:
The Rock - Still holds up. Fucking awesome 90s action movie. But I ask: Why did Nic Cage and that obnoxious marine want the chip so badly in the end? The last rocket was already gone, it was meaningless. I never understood that.
The Jerk - Hilarious. Made in 1979 and still funny.
The Dilemma - Better than I thought it was going to be. Pretty funny, but also kind of deep. There's a lesson at the end, kind of like an episode of Boy Meets World.
Oh right. This brings me too -
Dear Stupid Chick in the Theater where I was watching The Dilemma,
SHUT THE FUCK UP. I could say something specific right now, but I'll probably get in trouble, so I'll just leave it at this: You're an asshole, no one cares about your thoughts on the movie, and even if we did, we wouldn't want you to yell it then laugh like a fucking hyena. So stop texting, get off the fucking phone and shut the hell up before someone (me) runs you over with a steamroller.
Dear Scotty,
Thank you for sending me the following picture. You are a wonderful human being. You're also quite funny.
Dear Brian Schottenheimer,
You suck at your job. 4th and 1. Goal line. AFC Championship Game. Shonn Greene has been running over people like a Mac truck. So naturally, you give the ball to old-as-shit LaDainian Tomlinson and run him up the middle into one of the best run defenses in the league. Seriously?
And finally -
Dear everyone I will be at the Super Bowl party with,
I hope you don't mind having the result of the game blown for you beforehand because of which beer I buy. 2 years ago? I brought Iron City. Pittsburgh won. Last year? I brought Abita. New Orleans won. Sensing a trend here? Which beer will I bring this year? I guess you'll find out in 2 weeks.
Love,
Steven
Dear Mayor Jeremiah Healy (or Daddy),
Please fix the traffic light pattern on Washington Blvd. It's fucking stupid that every time a light turns green, the next one, which is only about 20 feet away, turns red. It's like a fucking 20 foot drag race between each light. Not to mention I'm going to kill someone who jaywalks one day, and it may or may not be accidental. Fix that shit.
Dear Winter,
Please be over. We here in Jersey don't want to know what it's like to live in Buffalo, Canada. Global warming my ass.
Dear Antrel Rolle,
The offseason just freaking started and already you're opening your mouth and saying dumb shit. Just shut the hell up and lift weights or something. Tom Coughlin is not Rex Ryan. You probably knew this when you signed a $35 million contract with us. Football will be fun if/when you actually make the playoffs.
Dear Snooki,
You are an incredible human being, and I feel blessed to have you in my life. When you said you were giving up drinking, and then said, "I think Pinot's ok. Pregnant people do it."... I really couldn't have thought of anything smarter to say at that very moment. And thank you for being such a disaster that they showed 2 episodes of Jersey Shore last week. When does your book come out? Oh yeah, and thank you for introducing me to the word "Cooka." That shit is hilarious!
Dear Rangers fans,
I'm sorry for Brandon Dubinsky getting hurt. It is 100% my fault, and I take full responsibility. In football, I am cursed, but I thought it stopped at that. I have bought 3 Giants jerseys: Jeremy Shockey, Plaxico Burress and Rodney Hampton. Shockey turned into a psycho, Burress shot himself, and Hampton got fat in retirement. I have been given 4 as gifts: Ike Hilliard, Tiki Barber, Eli Manning and Justin Tuck. Hilliard had a solid career, Tiki is the greatest running back in our history even though he's a douche, Eli is the cutest Super Bowl MVP ever, and Tuck is one of the best defensive linemen in the game. So as you can see, I curse people when I buy jerseys. But like I said, I thought it stopped at football. So a couple weeks ago, I bought a Brandon Dubinsky jersey... and now he has a stress fracture in his leg. So for this, I apologize. I should have known better.
Dear Residents of Portofino in the JC who own dogs that aren't named Dexter,
Pick up your fucking dog's shit. It's disgusting when you go to the dog run to toss a tennis ball around and you have to step around dried up shit. Besides, most of you have shitty little rats as dogs, so the poop can't possibly be that big. Pick it up.
Dear Comedy Central,
Pull the plug on Onion SportsDome. Onion sports videos are funny in moderation, perhaps one quick viewing at a time. The whole show? Not that good. Really not that funny. In fact, it kinda sucks.
Dear People Playing Me in Wii Goldeneye,
That dapper man in the white suit killing you every time you turn around? Yeah that's me, Scaramanga. I own your shit.
Dear Newport Centre Mall Taco Bell,
I know I've mentioned this before, but thank you again for being one of the finest Taco Bell's around. Your beefy 5-layer burrito is one of the best, cleanly put together so that it does not run all over the place, yet still loaded with flavor and happiness. Plus, your cheesy gordita crunches are some of the few that don't stick to the paper when you unwrap them. Kudos, technicians of wonderment.
And on that note,
Dear Taco Bell,
The new beefy crunch burrito that has the spicy Fritos in it? Not a great idea. The Fritos end up kind of mushy, so the crunch aspect just doesn't work. You're better than this.
Dear Reader of this blog,
My apologies if this sucks. I'm listening to the Rangers on the radio at the moment because we don't have fucking Versus. So if I seem distracted... now you know why.
Speaking of the Rangers -
Dear Marion Gaborik,
Thank you for finally scoring in a hockey game. Now please do it more often than just once in every 8 games. We pay you to score goals, remember?
Dear Harbor Casino in JC,
You're a fun bar. A little divey. Darts. Cheap booze. Not overly crowded. LOVE IT. You'll be seeing me more from now on.
MOVIES I SAW RECENTLY:
The Rock - Still holds up. Fucking awesome 90s action movie. But I ask: Why did Nic Cage and that obnoxious marine want the chip so badly in the end? The last rocket was already gone, it was meaningless. I never understood that.
The Jerk - Hilarious. Made in 1979 and still funny.
The Dilemma - Better than I thought it was going to be. Pretty funny, but also kind of deep. There's a lesson at the end, kind of like an episode of Boy Meets World.
Oh right. This brings me too -
Dear Stupid Chick in the Theater where I was watching The Dilemma,
SHUT THE FUCK UP. I could say something specific right now, but I'll probably get in trouble, so I'll just leave it at this: You're an asshole, no one cares about your thoughts on the movie, and even if we did, we wouldn't want you to yell it then laugh like a fucking hyena. So stop texting, get off the fucking phone and shut the hell up before someone (me) runs you over with a steamroller.
Dear Scotty,
Thank you for sending me the following picture. You are a wonderful human being. You're also quite funny.
Dear Brian Schottenheimer,
You suck at your job. 4th and 1. Goal line. AFC Championship Game. Shonn Greene has been running over people like a Mac truck. So naturally, you give the ball to old-as-shit LaDainian Tomlinson and run him up the middle into one of the best run defenses in the league. Seriously?
And finally -
Dear everyone I will be at the Super Bowl party with,
I hope you don't mind having the result of the game blown for you beforehand because of which beer I buy. 2 years ago? I brought Iron City. Pittsburgh won. Last year? I brought Abita. New Orleans won. Sensing a trend here? Which beer will I bring this year? I guess you'll find out in 2 weeks.
Love,
Steven
1/19/11
Gallen de Robuchon Reviews: Colicchio and Sons
Holy crap! 2 posts in 1 week? Sounds preposterous right? Well, if you said yes, then you're right. It is ridiculous. But in an effort to give you more stuff to read in the never-ending attempt to do as little work as possible while at work, I've enlisted the copious talents of The Chef of the Century, Gallen de Robuchon, to pen a review of a restaurant he recently visited. Chef, the floor is yours.
Parlez vous Francais? No? Well then, I suppose I will speak English, though it sounds so dirty coming off the tongue. Last week was my girlfriend and I's anniversary, which marked 5 years since she made the best decision of her life: dating me. So to mark the occasion, I decided to take her to one of the finest restaurants known to man, Colicchio and Sons. The establishment is of course the flagship restaurant of chef extraordinaire Tom Colicchio, who also happens to be a great friend of mine, as he is an equal of yours truly when it comes to culinary skill. I'm only friends with people who can cook as good as me, so obviously my stable of mates is quite miniscule. And if I needed to tell you that Colicchio and Sons is Tom Colicchio's restaurant, well you can just go ahead fall on a sabre.
Restaurant Review:
Colicchio and Sons
85 Tenth Avenue
New York, NY 10011
For Reservations: 212-400-6699
Ambience:
The restaurant itself is somewhat off the beaten path, but in my estimation, that's a good thing. It keeps away the riff raff that so often ruin my dining experience. You enter the restaurant and make your way up a small flight of stairs, where you're greeted by a lovely hostess who takes your coat with a delightful smile. The restaurant itself is split into 2 sections: the tap room, which has a full bar and a more casual setup, and the dining room, which is the more formal side of Colicchio and Sons. The 2 sections are divided by a monster wall of wine bottles, each more expensive than the next, though obviously money means nothing to me. I'm Ooprahe rich. Who's Ooprahe you ask? She's the French Oprah. Respect. Moving on... My lady and I of course sat in the dining room, which has just a wonderful atmosphere. It's not overdecorated, yet it has a subdued modern feel that is quite welcoming. The lighting is also perfect; I could actually see my lady's beautiful face, which is unfortunately not typical when it comes to fine dining. Furthering the wonderful experience, the level of the music was absolute perfection as it provided a lovely backdrop to conversation instead of overpowering it, again, as most restaurants do. Bravo, Tom and your decorating team.
Ambience Grade: A
Service:
Let me begin first by saying that my number 1 pet peeve with restaurant service is when the waiter doesn't tell me his/her name. I CAN'T STAND THAT. What am I supposed to say when I need my $2500 champagne refilled? "Hey You!?" or what about "Excuse me, It. Come here." Perhaps, "Peasant child. Serve me." No. I need a name. This is something I fully expected to not happen at my dear friend Tom's establishment, so suffice it to say, I was appalled when our waiter neglected to inform me of what's printed on his birth certificate. Unbelievable. That being said though, the service was absolutely outstanding. My lady and I were always served and had our plates cleared from our right side by ever-so-polite busmen. We were given fresh utensils for every course, even if we hadn't used all of them. Our water was refilled whenever the glass even thought about being empty. Our waiter, who I later found out was named Chase because it was printed on the check, was one of the finest I have ever had; he had an unsurpassed knowledge of the drink menu, which was quite extensive. He also wonderfully presented and described each dish as it was placed before us so that we knew exactly what we were inserting into our oral cavities. Going back to the drinks: the beer selection at Colicchio and Sons is matched only by the most excellent of beer bars. My lady had the Southampton Publick House Double White, while I sampled both the Corsendonk Christmas Ale and the Schneider Aventinus. Just absolutely wonderful brews. Top notch drinks. And top notch service. The only thing pulling this grade down is, obviously, the waiter not telling me his name. Can't overlook that fault.
Service Grade: A-
Appetizers:
On to the food! My beau and I both enjoyed 2 different appetizers. I'll tackle the Foie Gras Torchon with Candied Fennel Marmalade and Lillet Gelee, served with Brioche, first. I had never had foie gras before, but I've seen it a lot on Top Chef, so I've wanted to try it for some time. Yes I know, I am a French chef, and foie gras is french, but I rarely cook what I eat. I am the best chef in the world, and yet somehow my palette is too sophisticated for even my own cuisine. Go figure! Anyway, I decided that if I was to try foie gras (which means fatty liver, and is either from a duck or goose), I should try it at a place where I knew it would be the best it could possibly be, and Colicchio and Sons was just that place. The torchon had a consistency slightly thicker than a pate; it couldn't be spread, yet it was easily separated and was somewhat creamy. It had phenomenal flavor, which was only enhanced by the fennel marmalade and the gelee, which added a sweet note to the dish that I thought absolutely necessary. The foie gras itself was very buttery, very rich. The texture is not for everyone, but it was very enjoyable.
Our second appetizer was the Butter-Poached Oysters with Celery Root Tagliatelle and American Sturgeon Caviar. Caviar was another delicacy that I had never tried due to my overly sophisticated palette, but obviously, this was not the main aspect of the dish; the oysters were. The Oysters were delicate yet substantial, and had a wonderful fresh flavor that was only made better by the butter poaching process. The celery root added a different texture to the dish that offset the oyster nicely, while the caviar added that slight saltiness that brought the whole ensemble together. I can never get enough oysters, and this version certainly ranks as one of the best. A warning though to you fat people: the appetizer servings were a tad on the small side, so don't expect to get filled up on them.
Appetizer Grade: A
Main Course:
My love slave and I each had a main course, both of which I will review for you. We'll look at Megan's dish first, the Lamb Loin with Cavalo Nero, Black Eyed Peas and Honshimeji Mushrooms. I've always been a big lamb fan, and this one did not disappoint. The meat was beautifully cooked, medium just as it was ordered. It was also left unmolested; Tom let's the meat speak for itself. And this meat spoke loudly, it was just wonderful. The black eyed peas, unlike the hip hop group, were actually good and added a crunch to the dish, while the cavalo nero added the color. I was curious to see how Tom handled the mushroom, which is a rare fungi from Japan that can be prepared in a plethora of different ways, and he did not dissatisfy. The mushroom itself had an almost pulled pork-like consistency, with a very meaty texture. Very surprising, and completely delicious. Tom, you've done it again.
The dish I ordered was the Skirt Steak with a Horseradish-Crusted Short Rib, Bone Marrow Ravioli and Edamame, finished with a Bone Marrow Consomme. The dish was an absolute tour de force of cooking prowess, and while I would expect nothing less than perfection from Tom, he still managed to astound me. My palette was dancing in the streets after eating this masterpiece! The steak was cooked perfectly, a just delightful medium-rare that was exactly as I would expect to get from the best of steakhouses. Bone marrow was another delicacy that I hadn't sampled, and it was surprisingly tasty. It had a cheesy texture that filled the ravioli with wonderful flavor, while the other aspect of the dish that was made from bone marrow, the consomme, was so good I could have drank it straight from a glass. Sweet, salty, wonderful color - it's everything you look for in a broth. Simple perfection. The edamame was a welcome addition to the dish as well. But even though all of these aspects of the dinner were incredible, they all fell short of the short rib. It was one of the greatest things I had ever eaten, and was truly the star of the meal. The rib just melted in my mouth, and would have been delicious on its own, but the horseradish crust was the metaphorical icing on the greatest metaphorical cake ever. The coup de grace for sure. Thank you Tom for opening my eyes.
Main Course Grade: A++
Dessert:
Again, 2 desserts for me and the lady. First was the Warm Chocolate Tart with Hazelnut Brittle, Passion Fruit and Sweet Milk Sorbet. All of the sorbets and ice creams are produced in-house; you could taste the authenticity in every bite. The tart was wonderful, and all the other elements really added a level of sophistication to the experience. My dessert was the Cinnamon Waffles with Roasted Lady Apples and Calvados Ice Cream. The waffles were some of the finest I have ever sampled, and they were complemented beautifully by the dishes other accouterment. Pastry Chef Stephen Collucci, who I had actually tried to hire at my own restaurant, justified the faith I have in his dessert expertise. He is certainly a rising star, and it won't be long until he takes over the dessert world. We supplemented our desserts with 2 glasses of delicious port. I had the Seppetsfield Tawny 21 Yr., which is a wood matured port, while my significant other had a bottle matured Noval Black, Vintage Character. The Seppetsfield was the thicker of the 2, almost approaching a syrupy consistency - very sweet, with subtle hints of fig. Delicious. The Noval Black was lighter, with a smokier flavor to it. Also very good. Again, the drink list was second-to-none, and these 2 ports were evidence of that.
Dessert Grade: A
Overall, Colicchio and Sons is the crowning achievement of Chef Tom Colicchio, a man I've known and loved for a long time, though not only for his culinary expertise and prowess, but also because he is just a beautiful man. He had always wanted a restaurant like Colicchio and Sons, and it's safe to say that he has achieved everything he's dreamed of. The ambience was perfect, the service was outstanding, and most of all, the food was some of the best you can get on this planet, unless you're eating at one of my restaurants, of course. I may be the Chef of the Century, but I wouldn't put it past Tom to win Chef of the Next Century. Colicchio and Sons is his true genius on display, so if you have a significant amount of money burning a hole in your pocket and are looking for culinary perfection matched only in dreams, visit Colicchio and Sons, and tell them Gallen de Robuchon sent you.
Parlez vous Francais? No? Well then, I suppose I will speak English, though it sounds so dirty coming off the tongue. Last week was my girlfriend and I's anniversary, which marked 5 years since she made the best decision of her life: dating me. So to mark the occasion, I decided to take her to one of the finest restaurants known to man, Colicchio and Sons. The establishment is of course the flagship restaurant of chef extraordinaire Tom Colicchio, who also happens to be a great friend of mine, as he is an equal of yours truly when it comes to culinary skill. I'm only friends with people who can cook as good as me, so obviously my stable of mates is quite miniscule. And if I needed to tell you that Colicchio and Sons is Tom Colicchio's restaurant, well you can just go ahead fall on a sabre.
Restaurant Review:
Colicchio and Sons
85 Tenth Avenue
New York, NY 10011
For Reservations: 212-400-6699
Ambience:
The restaurant itself is somewhat off the beaten path, but in my estimation, that's a good thing. It keeps away the riff raff that so often ruin my dining experience. You enter the restaurant and make your way up a small flight of stairs, where you're greeted by a lovely hostess who takes your coat with a delightful smile. The restaurant itself is split into 2 sections: the tap room, which has a full bar and a more casual setup, and the dining room, which is the more formal side of Colicchio and Sons. The 2 sections are divided by a monster wall of wine bottles, each more expensive than the next, though obviously money means nothing to me. I'm Ooprahe rich. Who's Ooprahe you ask? She's the French Oprah. Respect. Moving on... My lady and I of course sat in the dining room, which has just a wonderful atmosphere. It's not overdecorated, yet it has a subdued modern feel that is quite welcoming. The lighting is also perfect; I could actually see my lady's beautiful face, which is unfortunately not typical when it comes to fine dining. Furthering the wonderful experience, the level of the music was absolute perfection as it provided a lovely backdrop to conversation instead of overpowering it, again, as most restaurants do. Bravo, Tom and your decorating team.
Ambience Grade: A
Service:
Let me begin first by saying that my number 1 pet peeve with restaurant service is when the waiter doesn't tell me his/her name. I CAN'T STAND THAT. What am I supposed to say when I need my $2500 champagne refilled? "Hey You!?" or what about "Excuse me, It. Come here." Perhaps, "Peasant child. Serve me." No. I need a name. This is something I fully expected to not happen at my dear friend Tom's establishment, so suffice it to say, I was appalled when our waiter neglected to inform me of what's printed on his birth certificate. Unbelievable. That being said though, the service was absolutely outstanding. My lady and I were always served and had our plates cleared from our right side by ever-so-polite busmen. We were given fresh utensils for every course, even if we hadn't used all of them. Our water was refilled whenever the glass even thought about being empty. Our waiter, who I later found out was named Chase because it was printed on the check, was one of the finest I have ever had; he had an unsurpassed knowledge of the drink menu, which was quite extensive. He also wonderfully presented and described each dish as it was placed before us so that we knew exactly what we were inserting into our oral cavities. Going back to the drinks: the beer selection at Colicchio and Sons is matched only by the most excellent of beer bars. My lady had the Southampton Publick House Double White, while I sampled both the Corsendonk Christmas Ale and the Schneider Aventinus. Just absolutely wonderful brews. Top notch drinks. And top notch service. The only thing pulling this grade down is, obviously, the waiter not telling me his name. Can't overlook that fault.
Service Grade: A-
Appetizers:
On to the food! My beau and I both enjoyed 2 different appetizers. I'll tackle the Foie Gras Torchon with Candied Fennel Marmalade and Lillet Gelee, served with Brioche, first. I had never had foie gras before, but I've seen it a lot on Top Chef, so I've wanted to try it for some time. Yes I know, I am a French chef, and foie gras is french, but I rarely cook what I eat. I am the best chef in the world, and yet somehow my palette is too sophisticated for even my own cuisine. Go figure! Anyway, I decided that if I was to try foie gras (which means fatty liver, and is either from a duck or goose), I should try it at a place where I knew it would be the best it could possibly be, and Colicchio and Sons was just that place. The torchon had a consistency slightly thicker than a pate; it couldn't be spread, yet it was easily separated and was somewhat creamy. It had phenomenal flavor, which was only enhanced by the fennel marmalade and the gelee, which added a sweet note to the dish that I thought absolutely necessary. The foie gras itself was very buttery, very rich. The texture is not for everyone, but it was very enjoyable.
Our second appetizer was the Butter-Poached Oysters with Celery Root Tagliatelle and American Sturgeon Caviar. Caviar was another delicacy that I had never tried due to my overly sophisticated palette, but obviously, this was not the main aspect of the dish; the oysters were. The Oysters were delicate yet substantial, and had a wonderful fresh flavor that was only made better by the butter poaching process. The celery root added a different texture to the dish that offset the oyster nicely, while the caviar added that slight saltiness that brought the whole ensemble together. I can never get enough oysters, and this version certainly ranks as one of the best. A warning though to you fat people: the appetizer servings were a tad on the small side, so don't expect to get filled up on them.
Appetizer Grade: A
Main Course:
My love slave and I each had a main course, both of which I will review for you. We'll look at Megan's dish first, the Lamb Loin with Cavalo Nero, Black Eyed Peas and Honshimeji Mushrooms. I've always been a big lamb fan, and this one did not disappoint. The meat was beautifully cooked, medium just as it was ordered. It was also left unmolested; Tom let's the meat speak for itself. And this meat spoke loudly, it was just wonderful. The black eyed peas, unlike the hip hop group, were actually good and added a crunch to the dish, while the cavalo nero added the color. I was curious to see how Tom handled the mushroom, which is a rare fungi from Japan that can be prepared in a plethora of different ways, and he did not dissatisfy. The mushroom itself had an almost pulled pork-like consistency, with a very meaty texture. Very surprising, and completely delicious. Tom, you've done it again.
The dish I ordered was the Skirt Steak with a Horseradish-Crusted Short Rib, Bone Marrow Ravioli and Edamame, finished with a Bone Marrow Consomme. The dish was an absolute tour de force of cooking prowess, and while I would expect nothing less than perfection from Tom, he still managed to astound me. My palette was dancing in the streets after eating this masterpiece! The steak was cooked perfectly, a just delightful medium-rare that was exactly as I would expect to get from the best of steakhouses. Bone marrow was another delicacy that I hadn't sampled, and it was surprisingly tasty. It had a cheesy texture that filled the ravioli with wonderful flavor, while the other aspect of the dish that was made from bone marrow, the consomme, was so good I could have drank it straight from a glass. Sweet, salty, wonderful color - it's everything you look for in a broth. Simple perfection. The edamame was a welcome addition to the dish as well. But even though all of these aspects of the dinner were incredible, they all fell short of the short rib. It was one of the greatest things I had ever eaten, and was truly the star of the meal. The rib just melted in my mouth, and would have been delicious on its own, but the horseradish crust was the metaphorical icing on the greatest metaphorical cake ever. The coup de grace for sure. Thank you Tom for opening my eyes.
Main Course Grade: A++
Dessert:
Again, 2 desserts for me and the lady. First was the Warm Chocolate Tart with Hazelnut Brittle, Passion Fruit and Sweet Milk Sorbet. All of the sorbets and ice creams are produced in-house; you could taste the authenticity in every bite. The tart was wonderful, and all the other elements really added a level of sophistication to the experience. My dessert was the Cinnamon Waffles with Roasted Lady Apples and Calvados Ice Cream. The waffles were some of the finest I have ever sampled, and they were complemented beautifully by the dishes other accouterment. Pastry Chef Stephen Collucci, who I had actually tried to hire at my own restaurant, justified the faith I have in his dessert expertise. He is certainly a rising star, and it won't be long until he takes over the dessert world. We supplemented our desserts with 2 glasses of delicious port. I had the Seppetsfield Tawny 21 Yr., which is a wood matured port, while my significant other had a bottle matured Noval Black, Vintage Character. The Seppetsfield was the thicker of the 2, almost approaching a syrupy consistency - very sweet, with subtle hints of fig. Delicious. The Noval Black was lighter, with a smokier flavor to it. Also very good. Again, the drink list was second-to-none, and these 2 ports were evidence of that.
Dessert Grade: A
Overall, Colicchio and Sons is the crowning achievement of Chef Tom Colicchio, a man I've known and loved for a long time, though not only for his culinary expertise and prowess, but also because he is just a beautiful man. He had always wanted a restaurant like Colicchio and Sons, and it's safe to say that he has achieved everything he's dreamed of. The ambience was perfect, the service was outstanding, and most of all, the food was some of the best you can get on this planet, unless you're eating at one of my restaurants, of course. I may be the Chef of the Century, but I wouldn't put it past Tom to win Chef of the Next Century. Colicchio and Sons is his true genius on display, so if you have a significant amount of money burning a hole in your pocket and are looking for culinary perfection matched only in dreams, visit Colicchio and Sons, and tell them Gallen de Robuchon sent you.
1/17/11
MMBF - 1/17: I miss 24, sad face.
Yes I know. This is a day late. However, I am writing this on a Monday, so it partially counts, just as long as you discount time of day. I feel like there is always a lot of pressure on comedians to keep being funny at all times, and because of that, a lot of them put a ton of pressure on themselves, which leads to various narcotic smoking and ultimately, death. Good thing I'm not funny at all.
Reebok's Zigtech sneaks are the shit. I sprung for a pair a few months back and all my foot pain has magically disappeared. I swear by them. Do yourself a favor and get some Zig in your life. Also, did you see Erin Andrews is the new face of Zigtech? No wonder I get a bonor every time I tie my shoes.
I feel like Oregon's football uniforms promote epilepsy. I seem to always want to stick a wallet in my mouth whenever I watch them on TV for fear of seizure. As far as their actual performance on the field goes - I hope they enjoy their national championship from this year when they are rewarded it in 3 years because Auburn gets all their shit taken away because they paid for hookers for Cam Newton.
What exactly is "shmeblicate"? The hot alien chicks in that Bud Light commercial need to do it with a man in order to save their species, but what exactly is it? I'm guessing it's alien for butt sex. Has to be. If there was one thing we'd need to do to save our civilization, it would definitely be butt sex.
Verizon iPhone - no voice + data? Ouch. Not that I was going to switch anyway, but that's a big demerit on Verizon's part. And yes I know, you have to actually be able to do voice to then be able to do voice and data, ha ha ha. When everyone jumps off AT&T to switch to Verizon and the network becomes severely less clogged, we'll see who's laughing.... Yeah I know. Probably still you.
I was thinking the other day, why do snow songs stop when Christmas is over? Take "Let it Snow" for example. It really isn't a song about Christmas. It's just a song about weather. So why, when Christmas is over, do radio stations automatically stop playing it, when it is very clearly still snowing outside? Boggles the mind.
I saw my first 5 minutes ever of V the other night. What a fuckin stupid show. But I love Juliet from LOST, so major brownie points there.
The Million Dollar Money Drop is incredibly gripping television. Few things bring me more pleasure then watching 2 dumbasses put all the money on one answer, only to see it drop down the hole, thereby awarding them squat. Haha suckers!
Wendy's is now offering "Natural Cut Fries." What the fuck does that mean? Did they cut the potatoes with a ray of sunshine? A particularly sharp blade of grass? That makes no sense. They basically think every soy milk drinking, tofu eating, tight pants wearing, crunchy hipster will see the word "Natural" in the description and spring to buy it so they can maintain their earthy lifestyle. Funny thing is it probably works.
Top Chef was supremely satisfying last week as both Jamie and White Tiffany went home. THANK CHRIST. Jamie is a stupid bitch who can't cook (why is she on this show again?), while White Tiffany was clearly the more lackluster of the 2 Tiffanys. I still miss Casey though. Good thing Fabio is still around to warm the cockles of my heart with his accent.
I like how LeBron tweeted that "karma was a bitch" (or something to that effect) after the Cavaliers got destroyed by 379 points last week by the Lakers, then denied it, saying someone else wrote it for him. Stand by what you say, you pussy. Oh no! I talked shit about LeBron! Does that mean I'm on his list, and he's going to get me? I'm diarrheaing all over myself as we speak.
Eric Mangini sucked as a head coach in the National. Football. League., and he sucks as an analyst on ESPN. The host will ask him a question, and instead of turning and addressing his audience by looking at the camera, he continues to stare deep into his host's eyes, like he's trying to communicate to him that he wants to tongue his balls once his bland and obvious analysis of the Jets Cover 2 scheme is complete. It's just creepy.
Get Him to the Greek was super hilars. And surprisingly, Puff Daddy was not lame. In fact, quite the contrary. I think we have a comedic star in the making. Hopefully he doesn't put too much pressure on himself to be funny all the time now, start smoking crack off of tranvestite hooker's wang pieces, and die.
The new Goldeneye for the Wii takes a bit of getting used to because of the control scheme, but once you get the hang of it, it's titties. Brings back fond memories of sitting in my buddy's basement and setting off remote mines in the Stack while my much cooler friends were getting to first base with the class slut. Ah, grade school.
Round 2 officially has gone to J-Wowww. Though I wish that Round 2 concluded with Jenni just taking out a gun and shooting Sammie. She is the worst. I hope Ron Ron Juice cheats on her again, then tries to sleep with her while his ween still smells like used condoms so she leaves the show. The world will be a much better place.
I own several pairs of jeans with holes in the crotches, and I have decided that there is no real downside to having that. 1) You get sweet ventilation for your nuts. 2) There is easy access for the ladies. 3) You have a great humor-ridden conversation starter in case of a discussion lull. 4) In some cases, you don't even have to unzip your fly if you have to take a piss. 5) People will think you're bold and daring for going out in public with the threat of anaconda evacuation right around the corner. Point is, I can't find a reason why it's bad.
The bartender at the White Horse Tavern in NYC looks like Bill Buchanan. What a great American hero, a hero who is missed dearly. Suffice it to say, the bartender was confused when I saluted him.
The Jets beat the Patriots. Woo hoo. Another week of incessant sports talk radio about Rex Ryan's various fetishes and want for trash talk. People, he talks a lot and is confident in his team. Get over it. No need to discuss it ad nauseam and make me want to cut the corners of my mouth with a sharpened credit card.
SWEET JESUS THE RANGERS TRADED AWAY MICHAL ROSZIVAL!!!!! CUE THE CHORUS OF ANGELS!!!! Now if we could only get rid of Wade Redden (who I believe comes back on the books next year), I will have a permanent stiffy. Also, it would be nice if we could score some goals. Marian Gaborik, get on that please. We don't pay you to be nailed to the pine because you keep shooting the puck at the goalie's chest.
Speaking of 24 (and if you had no idea that I already referenced the show in this blog entry (and not in the title), please stop reading this. Forever.), Chloe was on Modern Family! She's the best, and I miss her. I miss Jack. I miss Jack killing everyone in site in the name of justice. I miss President Palmer, the greatest President this country has ever had. I miss Tony Almeida, whose reputation will never be sullied in my mind. I miss Edgar, who was taken from us entirely too soon. I miss Curtis Manning, the baddest motha this side of the Mississip. I miss Renee Walker, who not only was hot, but was about to give Jack the happy life he deserved. I miss Aaron Pierce, the greatest secret service agent ever, and all around great guy. And last but not least, I miss Kim Bauer, because, well, she's just really hot, not to mention she has Jack Genes in her. The movie cannot come soon enough.
Reebok's Zigtech sneaks are the shit. I sprung for a pair a few months back and all my foot pain has magically disappeared. I swear by them. Do yourself a favor and get some Zig in your life. Also, did you see Erin Andrews is the new face of Zigtech? No wonder I get a bonor every time I tie my shoes.
I feel like Oregon's football uniforms promote epilepsy. I seem to always want to stick a wallet in my mouth whenever I watch them on TV for fear of seizure. As far as their actual performance on the field goes - I hope they enjoy their national championship from this year when they are rewarded it in 3 years because Auburn gets all their shit taken away because they paid for hookers for Cam Newton.
What exactly is "shmeblicate"? The hot alien chicks in that Bud Light commercial need to do it with a man in order to save their species, but what exactly is it? I'm guessing it's alien for butt sex. Has to be. If there was one thing we'd need to do to save our civilization, it would definitely be butt sex.
Verizon iPhone - no voice + data? Ouch. Not that I was going to switch anyway, but that's a big demerit on Verizon's part. And yes I know, you have to actually be able to do voice to then be able to do voice and data, ha ha ha. When everyone jumps off AT&T to switch to Verizon and the network becomes severely less clogged, we'll see who's laughing.... Yeah I know. Probably still you.
I was thinking the other day, why do snow songs stop when Christmas is over? Take "Let it Snow" for example. It really isn't a song about Christmas. It's just a song about weather. So why, when Christmas is over, do radio stations automatically stop playing it, when it is very clearly still snowing outside? Boggles the mind.
I saw my first 5 minutes ever of V the other night. What a fuckin stupid show. But I love Juliet from LOST, so major brownie points there.
The Million Dollar Money Drop is incredibly gripping television. Few things bring me more pleasure then watching 2 dumbasses put all the money on one answer, only to see it drop down the hole, thereby awarding them squat. Haha suckers!
Wendy's is now offering "Natural Cut Fries." What the fuck does that mean? Did they cut the potatoes with a ray of sunshine? A particularly sharp blade of grass? That makes no sense. They basically think every soy milk drinking, tofu eating, tight pants wearing, crunchy hipster will see the word "Natural" in the description and spring to buy it so they can maintain their earthy lifestyle. Funny thing is it probably works.
Top Chef was supremely satisfying last week as both Jamie and White Tiffany went home. THANK CHRIST. Jamie is a stupid bitch who can't cook (why is she on this show again?), while White Tiffany was clearly the more lackluster of the 2 Tiffanys. I still miss Casey though. Good thing Fabio is still around to warm the cockles of my heart with his accent.
I like how LeBron tweeted that "karma was a bitch" (or something to that effect) after the Cavaliers got destroyed by 379 points last week by the Lakers, then denied it, saying someone else wrote it for him. Stand by what you say, you pussy. Oh no! I talked shit about LeBron! Does that mean I'm on his list, and he's going to get me? I'm diarrheaing all over myself as we speak.
Eric Mangini sucked as a head coach in the National. Football. League., and he sucks as an analyst on ESPN. The host will ask him a question, and instead of turning and addressing his audience by looking at the camera, he continues to stare deep into his host's eyes, like he's trying to communicate to him that he wants to tongue his balls once his bland and obvious analysis of the Jets Cover 2 scheme is complete. It's just creepy.
Get Him to the Greek was super hilars. And surprisingly, Puff Daddy was not lame. In fact, quite the contrary. I think we have a comedic star in the making. Hopefully he doesn't put too much pressure on himself to be funny all the time now, start smoking crack off of tranvestite hooker's wang pieces, and die.
The new Goldeneye for the Wii takes a bit of getting used to because of the control scheme, but once you get the hang of it, it's titties. Brings back fond memories of sitting in my buddy's basement and setting off remote mines in the Stack while my much cooler friends were getting to first base with the class slut. Ah, grade school.
Round 2 officially has gone to J-Wowww. Though I wish that Round 2 concluded with Jenni just taking out a gun and shooting Sammie. She is the worst. I hope Ron Ron Juice cheats on her again, then tries to sleep with her while his ween still smells like used condoms so she leaves the show. The world will be a much better place.
I own several pairs of jeans with holes in the crotches, and I have decided that there is no real downside to having that. 1) You get sweet ventilation for your nuts. 2) There is easy access for the ladies. 3) You have a great humor-ridden conversation starter in case of a discussion lull. 4) In some cases, you don't even have to unzip your fly if you have to take a piss. 5) People will think you're bold and daring for going out in public with the threat of anaconda evacuation right around the corner. Point is, I can't find a reason why it's bad.
The bartender at the White Horse Tavern in NYC looks like Bill Buchanan. What a great American hero, a hero who is missed dearly. Suffice it to say, the bartender was confused when I saluted him.
The Jets beat the Patriots. Woo hoo. Another week of incessant sports talk radio about Rex Ryan's various fetishes and want for trash talk. People, he talks a lot and is confident in his team. Get over it. No need to discuss it ad nauseam and make me want to cut the corners of my mouth with a sharpened credit card.
SWEET JESUS THE RANGERS TRADED AWAY MICHAL ROSZIVAL!!!!! CUE THE CHORUS OF ANGELS!!!! Now if we could only get rid of Wade Redden (who I believe comes back on the books next year), I will have a permanent stiffy. Also, it would be nice if we could score some goals. Marian Gaborik, get on that please. We don't pay you to be nailed to the pine because you keep shooting the puck at the goalie's chest.
Speaking of 24 (and if you had no idea that I already referenced the show in this blog entry (and not in the title), please stop reading this. Forever.), Chloe was on Modern Family! She's the best, and I miss her. I miss Jack. I miss Jack killing everyone in site in the name of justice. I miss President Palmer, the greatest President this country has ever had. I miss Tony Almeida, whose reputation will never be sullied in my mind. I miss Edgar, who was taken from us entirely too soon. I miss Curtis Manning, the baddest motha this side of the Mississip. I miss Renee Walker, who not only was hot, but was about to give Jack the happy life he deserved. I miss Aaron Pierce, the greatest secret service agent ever, and all around great guy. And last but not least, I miss Kim Bauer, because, well, she's just really hot, not to mention she has Jack Genes in her. The movie cannot come soon enough.
1/9/11
MMBF - 1/10: Thank God for Tramon Williams!
Another week, another Brain Fart, but nothing else on ye olde blog shoppe (damn you Scott). One of these days, I swear there will be something else for your eyes to peruse while you're bored at work, but until then, you'll have to make do with only Monday wordsmithery. Wordsmithery that begins.... now.
Sidney Crosby is such a cry-baby bitch on 24/7. Actually, come to think of it, he's a bitch everyday of his life, not just on that show. I fucking hate him. He's a dirty player and will 2-hand slash you in the back of the knee when you're not looking, but when you so much as curse at him, he starts crying to the refs. You deserve your concussion Sid. Oh and by the way, 24/7 was some of the most incredible TV I've ever seen. Better than Hard Knocks, hands down.
Watched the lesbian scene from Black Swan the other day. That is some of the most disturbing carpet munching you'll ever see. I can't imagine how fucked up the rest of the movie is. Heard it was good though.
SportsCenter's commercials are some of the best on TV. Always hilarious. New one featuring Alexander Ovechkin, who unlike Crosby actually earns his respect, makes me laugh every time.
Got Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 for my PS3 for Christmas, about a year too late because Black Ops is already out. No matter, that shit is impossibly good. Killing terrorists never gets old!
I wear the same glasses as Ohio St. coach Jim Tressel. That is neat. Should I start rocking sweater vests?
Good job Ohio St.! You won the Sugar Bowl with 5 guys who should have been suspended! Really, well done. Great accomplishment. I hope you look back on it with fond memories when the win is expunged from the record books in 5 years! That's right. I just used expunged in a sentence. Suck it.
Casey?!? You got eliminated from Top Chef? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! All J-O material from the show is gone now, frown face, not to mention any and all of the sexual frivolity that the Chef of the Century could possibly handle. It's a good thing Fabio and Tiffany D. are still around, otherwise I'd have to seriously reconsider my viewership of that show.
I was in the building for the Norwegian Hobbit Wizard's first career goal, an overtime winner in a 2-1 victory over the Carolina Hurricanes on Wednesday. What a great goal. It felt like I attended the birth of Jesus Christ himself. The Hobbit Wizard makes me sweat.
I LOVE Chinese food. I just love the taste of cat, what can I say? Anyway, I always order General Tsao's Chicken and an egg roll. But never this kind of egg roll:
NEED IT.
Can You Digg It??? volleyball enlisted the talents of yours truly for a match the other night, which personally I can't blame them for since I throw down so fucking hard. However, my extreme heat on the court does not come without consequence, so to the girl who now has "Spalding" tattooed on her cheek because I crushed her in the face with a spike... I sorry. But seriously, you gots to get out the way. Didn't you notice how nasty I bring it?
YOU'RE KIDDING ME?!?!??!?! REALLY??!?!? No one saw this coming.
Sweet Jesus Jersey Shore is back!!! But seriously, can Ronnie and Sam please be kicked off the show? They fucking suck at life. WHAT MAKES SENSE ABOUT PICKING THE TRIPLE BEDROOM YOU IDIOTS? Poor Situation. And already Sammy and Jenny were throwing down. I LOVE IT!
Went to the Professional Bull Riding tournament at Madison Square Garden on Friday. I can basically sum up the event in one word: America. Though it was disappointing to hear so much about Mutton Bustin' last year when I couldn't go and not see any this time around. What's Mutton Bustin' you ask?
CHILDREN ON SHEEP!!! HILARIOUS!!!
Playoffs. Saints - Seadogs. Game is on the line with 2 important plays. Sean Payton has Drew Brees as his quarterback. Drew. Fucking. Brees. Father of Baylen (that's for you Megan). Arguably the best QB in the league. So who does Sean Payton give the ball to on these 2 plays? Deshawn Wynn and Julius Jones. What? Nice. No wonder you lost to a pathetic 7-9 team in the playoffs, Sean.
Speaking of the Seahawks, Marshawn Lynch went all Beast Mode on the Saints at the end there. I swear, if I ever had grills, I would totally have them say Beast Mode - wait? What's that you say? Marshawn already has that???
And the ugliest man in football continues to deliver the comedy.
So I read that the Tiger Woods '12 video game will feature Augusta National, home of the Masters, for the first time in a video game ever. So does that mean that you can't pick a biddie golfer when you choose that course? Oh hey! I want to play at Augusta in fake life. What? I can't pick no chicks! Oh crap. Biddies might be reading this blog. No talking about biddies in front of other biddies (Rule #2). Moving on.
And finally, THANK GOD the Eagles are not going to win the Super Bowl again. I don't think I could live with myself if that team of scumbag players with scumbag fans ever won the whole thing. I thought the Eagles were going to win on that last drive, but thankfully Tramon Williams was sent down from the Lord above to intercept The Dog Killer and give Green Bay the win. Suck it Filthadelphia!
Love,
A Bitter Giants Fan
Sidney Crosby is such a cry-baby bitch on 24/7. Actually, come to think of it, he's a bitch everyday of his life, not just on that show. I fucking hate him. He's a dirty player and will 2-hand slash you in the back of the knee when you're not looking, but when you so much as curse at him, he starts crying to the refs. You deserve your concussion Sid. Oh and by the way, 24/7 was some of the most incredible TV I've ever seen. Better than Hard Knocks, hands down.
Watched the lesbian scene from Black Swan the other day. That is some of the most disturbing carpet munching you'll ever see. I can't imagine how fucked up the rest of the movie is. Heard it was good though.
SportsCenter's commercials are some of the best on TV. Always hilarious. New one featuring Alexander Ovechkin, who unlike Crosby actually earns his respect, makes me laugh every time.
Got Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 for my PS3 for Christmas, about a year too late because Black Ops is already out. No matter, that shit is impossibly good. Killing terrorists never gets old!
I wear the same glasses as Ohio St. coach Jim Tressel. That is neat. Should I start rocking sweater vests?
Good job Ohio St.! You won the Sugar Bowl with 5 guys who should have been suspended! Really, well done. Great accomplishment. I hope you look back on it with fond memories when the win is expunged from the record books in 5 years! That's right. I just used expunged in a sentence. Suck it.
Casey?!? You got eliminated from Top Chef? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! All J-O material from the show is gone now, frown face, not to mention any and all of the sexual frivolity that the Chef of the Century could possibly handle. It's a good thing Fabio and Tiffany D. are still around, otherwise I'd have to seriously reconsider my viewership of that show.
I was in the building for the Norwegian Hobbit Wizard's first career goal, an overtime winner in a 2-1 victory over the Carolina Hurricanes on Wednesday. What a great goal. It felt like I attended the birth of Jesus Christ himself. The Hobbit Wizard makes me sweat.
I LOVE Chinese food. I just love the taste of cat, what can I say? Anyway, I always order General Tsao's Chicken and an egg roll. But never this kind of egg roll:
NEED IT.
Can You Digg It??? volleyball enlisted the talents of yours truly for a match the other night, which personally I can't blame them for since I throw down so fucking hard. However, my extreme heat on the court does not come without consequence, so to the girl who now has "Spalding" tattooed on her cheek because I crushed her in the face with a spike... I sorry. But seriously, you gots to get out the way. Didn't you notice how nasty I bring it?
YOU'RE KIDDING ME?!?!??!?! REALLY??!?!? No one saw this coming.
Sweet Jesus Jersey Shore is back!!! But seriously, can Ronnie and Sam please be kicked off the show? They fucking suck at life. WHAT MAKES SENSE ABOUT PICKING THE TRIPLE BEDROOM YOU IDIOTS? Poor Situation. And already Sammy and Jenny were throwing down. I LOVE IT!
Went to the Professional Bull Riding tournament at Madison Square Garden on Friday. I can basically sum up the event in one word: America. Though it was disappointing to hear so much about Mutton Bustin' last year when I couldn't go and not see any this time around. What's Mutton Bustin' you ask?
CHILDREN ON SHEEP!!! HILARIOUS!!!
Playoffs. Saints - Seadogs. Game is on the line with 2 important plays. Sean Payton has Drew Brees as his quarterback. Drew. Fucking. Brees. Father of Baylen (that's for you Megan). Arguably the best QB in the league. So who does Sean Payton give the ball to on these 2 plays? Deshawn Wynn and Julius Jones. What? Nice. No wonder you lost to a pathetic 7-9 team in the playoffs, Sean.
Speaking of the Seahawks, Marshawn Lynch went all Beast Mode on the Saints at the end there. I swear, if I ever had grills, I would totally have them say Beast Mode - wait? What's that you say? Marshawn already has that???
And the ugliest man in football continues to deliver the comedy.
So I read that the Tiger Woods '12 video game will feature Augusta National, home of the Masters, for the first time in a video game ever. So does that mean that you can't pick a biddie golfer when you choose that course? Oh hey! I want to play at Augusta in fake life. What? I can't pick no chicks! Oh crap. Biddies might be reading this blog. No talking about biddies in front of other biddies (Rule #2). Moving on.
And finally, THANK GOD the Eagles are not going to win the Super Bowl again. I don't think I could live with myself if that team of scumbag players with scumbag fans ever won the whole thing. I thought the Eagles were going to win on that last drive, but thankfully Tramon Williams was sent down from the Lord above to intercept The Dog Killer and give Green Bay the win. Suck it Filthadelphia!
Love,
A Bitter Giants Fan
1/3/11
MMBF - 1/3: Happy 20-Sticks!
Hola todos las personas who is reading this blog (5), and Happy New Year! I can't believe I've now posted a Brain Fart 3 weeks in a row. You must be peeing yourself with excitement. But now I have to take the next step: actually writing something else. Let's see if that can be accomplished before the world ends next year. Anyway, on to the Farting!
The Lexus December To Remember commercials need to be stopped. Every fucking year they have this same stupid sale on cars that only rich people can afford, and the commercials feature trophy wives using their husbands hard-earned cash to buy him a car with a huge, obnoxious red bow on the roof. He is always surprised by this discovery. A few observations: 1) SHE BOUGHT IT WITH YOUR MONEY DUMBASS! I bet he won't be so happy when he sees the credit card statement, along with the new Tiffany ring she's wearing and the new Coach purse that's on her shoulder. Money-grubbing whore. And 2) WHY IS HE SO SURPRISED?! DOES HE THINK THAT HIS WIFE IS BRINGING HIM OUT TO THE DRIVEWAY TO SHOW HIM HIS BRAND NEW CHRISTMAS CAMEL? Fucking idiot.
Watching the Rangers whip up on the Islanders is awesome! Great Ranger team to root for this year. Really hard-working. Tons of effort. Easy to relate to. LOVE IT.
This story is both amazing and mortifying in so many ways. First of all, good for her for having a dream and chasing it. If we don't have goals, then what exactly are we living for? But second, she has 2 kids. That means a man had sex with her. Sir, you are a disgrace. Remember rule number 1! NO FAT CHICKS.
I absolutely HATE the Hyundai commercials that have been running over the holiday season where one stupid bitch and her emo-rific man toy are singing Christmas songs next to a shittily-made car. The girl is a lifeless soul-sucker who aimlessly stares deep into your eyes while she belts out Christmas tunes, while the guy is some kind of 5 Hour Energy-guzzling jackass who's jumping around behind her banging on xylophones and dressing like Joe Young. Every time I see it I want to run head first into my TV, simultaneously ending the commercial, destroying the TV screen, and electrocuting myself. FUCK YOU HYUNDAI!
Ranting about commercials a lot today are we? Well, another ridiculous series of commercials that make me ponder self-mutilation are the ones for Cialis. Hey babe, did you just wipe butter off of my face while I was cutting this cucumber? Let us fuck! Oh my god! Did my dirt-caked hand just graze your shoulder while we were gardening? Well, time for you to suck my dick! It's a good thing I have this pill to make my wang hard! I'm so old, yet I still maintain a healthy sexual existence with my equally-as-old partner. Neato! Let's go get naked and sit in separate bath tubs up there on that mountain-top!
So Joe Webb, a quarterback who's barely good enough to start for my high school team, plays the game of his life and beats the Eagles, yet Eli Manning, an insanely cute Super Bowl MVP, can't? Sometimes the Giants make me want to run a cheese grater over my nuts. And speaking of the Eagles, the ONE FUCKING TIME WE NEEDED THEM TO WIN, they don't. Burn Philadelphia. Burn.
So remember how Tony Dungy made a big Christian stink about how Rex Ryan cursed too much on Hard Knocks? Well, where is his rhetoric now since Bruce Boudreau is making Rex Ryan look like a pre-schooler on HBO's 24/7? I don't think I've ever heard a man curse more than ol' Brucy does, but Tony is nowhere to be seen to tell us what a bad man he is. I guess cursing in hockey is ok!
So even though Joe Montana tried to ruin Rudy by telling everyone that half the shit in the movie didn't happen, it still rules. I happened across it over the weekend while watching the telly and obviously had to stop and watch, and that flick never fails to deliver the waterworks. Thank you, Sean Aston. And Fuck You Joe Montana.
Well, now that the G-Men have been officially eliminated from the playoffs and Tom Coughlin is officially going to be back as our head coach next year, here is a list of people we should fire:
Offensive Coordinator Kevin Gilbride - Giants fans have been predicting his play calls for 3 years now. You think people who actually do this shit for a living don't know what's coming? He fucking sucks. GET RID OF HIM.
Special Teams Coordinator Tom Quinn - The kick and punt coverage sucks more man junk than a drunk 20 year old chick at a frat party, our punter is the worst punter in the history of punting, our kicker can only make field goals if the hold is perfect, and our team had no idea an onside kick might come in an obvious onside kick situation during our meltdown against the fucking Eagles. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?!?!?!? FUCK! GET RID OF HIM.
QB Coach Mike Sullivan - Our Super Bowl MVP quarterback has shitty footwork and threw 25 interceptions this year. This is what happens when you promote a WIDE RECEIVER COACH to the QB Coach position. GET RID OF HIM.
And with that, I would like to wish you are yours a wonderful and prosperous 2011! But before we officialy get down to business in 20-sticks, here was my favorite moment from 2010:
What was your favorite moment from the past year?
The Lexus December To Remember commercials need to be stopped. Every fucking year they have this same stupid sale on cars that only rich people can afford, and the commercials feature trophy wives using their husbands hard-earned cash to buy him a car with a huge, obnoxious red bow on the roof. He is always surprised by this discovery. A few observations: 1) SHE BOUGHT IT WITH YOUR MONEY DUMBASS! I bet he won't be so happy when he sees the credit card statement, along with the new Tiffany ring she's wearing and the new Coach purse that's on her shoulder. Money-grubbing whore. And 2) WHY IS HE SO SURPRISED?! DOES HE THINK THAT HIS WIFE IS BRINGING HIM OUT TO THE DRIVEWAY TO SHOW HIM HIS BRAND NEW CHRISTMAS CAMEL? Fucking idiot.
Watching the Rangers whip up on the Islanders is awesome! Great Ranger team to root for this year. Really hard-working. Tons of effort. Easy to relate to. LOVE IT.
This story is both amazing and mortifying in so many ways. First of all, good for her for having a dream and chasing it. If we don't have goals, then what exactly are we living for? But second, she has 2 kids. That means a man had sex with her. Sir, you are a disgrace. Remember rule number 1! NO FAT CHICKS.
I absolutely HATE the Hyundai commercials that have been running over the holiday season where one stupid bitch and her emo-rific man toy are singing Christmas songs next to a shittily-made car. The girl is a lifeless soul-sucker who aimlessly stares deep into your eyes while she belts out Christmas tunes, while the guy is some kind of 5 Hour Energy-guzzling jackass who's jumping around behind her banging on xylophones and dressing like Joe Young. Every time I see it I want to run head first into my TV, simultaneously ending the commercial, destroying the TV screen, and electrocuting myself. FUCK YOU HYUNDAI!
Ranting about commercials a lot today are we? Well, another ridiculous series of commercials that make me ponder self-mutilation are the ones for Cialis. Hey babe, did you just wipe butter off of my face while I was cutting this cucumber? Let us fuck! Oh my god! Did my dirt-caked hand just graze your shoulder while we were gardening? Well, time for you to suck my dick! It's a good thing I have this pill to make my wang hard! I'm so old, yet I still maintain a healthy sexual existence with my equally-as-old partner. Neato! Let's go get naked and sit in separate bath tubs up there on that mountain-top!
So Joe Webb, a quarterback who's barely good enough to start for my high school team, plays the game of his life and beats the Eagles, yet Eli Manning, an insanely cute Super Bowl MVP, can't? Sometimes the Giants make me want to run a cheese grater over my nuts. And speaking of the Eagles, the ONE FUCKING TIME WE NEEDED THEM TO WIN, they don't. Burn Philadelphia. Burn.
So remember how Tony Dungy made a big Christian stink about how Rex Ryan cursed too much on Hard Knocks? Well, where is his rhetoric now since Bruce Boudreau is making Rex Ryan look like a pre-schooler on HBO's 24/7? I don't think I've ever heard a man curse more than ol' Brucy does, but Tony is nowhere to be seen to tell us what a bad man he is. I guess cursing in hockey is ok!
So even though Joe Montana tried to ruin Rudy by telling everyone that half the shit in the movie didn't happen, it still rules. I happened across it over the weekend while watching the telly and obviously had to stop and watch, and that flick never fails to deliver the waterworks. Thank you, Sean Aston. And Fuck You Joe Montana.
Well, now that the G-Men have been officially eliminated from the playoffs and Tom Coughlin is officially going to be back as our head coach next year, here is a list of people we should fire:
Offensive Coordinator Kevin Gilbride - Giants fans have been predicting his play calls for 3 years now. You think people who actually do this shit for a living don't know what's coming? He fucking sucks. GET RID OF HIM.
Special Teams Coordinator Tom Quinn - The kick and punt coverage sucks more man junk than a drunk 20 year old chick at a frat party, our punter is the worst punter in the history of punting, our kicker can only make field goals if the hold is perfect, and our team had no idea an onside kick might come in an obvious onside kick situation during our meltdown against the fucking Eagles. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?!?!?!? FUCK! GET RID OF HIM.
QB Coach Mike Sullivan - Our Super Bowl MVP quarterback has shitty footwork and threw 25 interceptions this year. This is what happens when you promote a WIDE RECEIVER COACH to the QB Coach position. GET RID OF HIM.
And with that, I would like to wish you are yours a wonderful and prosperous 2011! But before we officialy get down to business in 20-sticks, here was my favorite moment from 2010:
What was your favorite moment from the past year?
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