MMBF - 5/19: Welcome to the JCSC

Hola everyone, and welcome to the exceedingly late and lackluster Monday Morning Brain Fart, appropriately renamed in the logo to your right. I've been really busy, not only with work, but with playing with my new Macbook Pro (bitches!), so clearly the time to write in this blog hasn't been plentiful. I have reached a free moment, however, so please enjoy the fruits of my labor.

Friday night I began the evening with dinner and various boozings at the 6th Ward, a delightful bar on New York City's lower east side that I highly suggest you check out. Good service, good food, cheap bear, and a nice little outdoor beer garden-type area. Afterwards, we made our way across the street to the Mercury Lounge to my AT&T brother's band, The King Left. It was the release party for their new album Perfect Without People, and they put on a pretty good live show, so I suggest you check them out sometime when you get the chance. Oh wait. They broke up after the show. Nevermind. Buy the album anyway (here), but if you wanted to see them live, you are shit out of luck my friend.



Saturday was the second leg of horse racing's Triple Crown, the Preakness Stakes. Unlike the Kentucky Derby, I did not attend this race, though Louey Colicchio did, and he was happy to report that it was just as sloppy as the Derby, sans rain. As for the actual race, I forget who won, nor did I really care since it wasn't the horse that won the Derby nor did I have any money riding on it. The Biz had money on it, however, and after losing all of it, she uttered this exact phrase while the post-race interviews were happening: "My favorite interview in all of sports is the jockey interview from horse to horse." That has nothing to do with her losing money of course, but it's good to see that being poor doesn't distract The Biz from enjoying her favorite interview in all of sports.

I went to Tasti D-Lite on Grove St. in the JC this weekend for the first time, and let me tell you: it was neither tasty nor delightful. First of all, the owner (or the guy who I imagine is the owner) was annoying as shit. He was dressed in a pink shirt with the hipster Castro hat, which immediately looked annoying, and he then proceeded to ask us at least 25 times if we had any questions about how and what to order. After finally making him go away by ignoring him, he came back and continued: "You sure you don't have any questions? Seriously. Anything. Ask me anything. Need samples? Really? Don't wanna try anything? You have no questions? I'll answer anything. Anything you need to know about this place. Huh. No questions huh? Ok.... seriously, you have no questions? I'm going to go run out in traffic!" I only made that last sentence up. SHUT THE FUCK UP BUDDY. So then I was hoping that the ice cream on tap would redeem the place, but I was sadly mistaken. The Dutch Chocolate tasted more like the paper that comes out of a Dutchman's inkjet printer. I highly suggest you never go there, 1) because the ice cream sucks, and 2) because you'll be driven to the brink of suicide by the owner.

Another thing I tried this weekend was the new Bacon Ranch Tortada at Taco Bell (it's not a sandwich). Typically I enjoy anything with bacon in it, and typically I enjoy anything with the words "Taco" and "Bell" in it, so I had high hopes for this particular piece of culinary artistry. I wasn't disappointed. The bacon was an added bonus to the already overwhelmingly delicious Taco Bell flavor. I'd insert the genius prose of Gallen de Robuchon here, but he was too busy stuffing his face with Taco Bell deliciousness to utter a coherent phrase. Was the Bacon Ranch Tortada a staple like the Cheesy Gordita Crunch? No. Nothing is a CGC. Will I order it again? Absolutely. Am I going to start asking questions of myself from now on so that I sound like all analysts on TV? NO. I don't suck.

One quick thing: I've started using my Old Spice Odor Blocker Bodywash, and hot damn do I smell good. Ladies, form a line please.

I was at the Yankees - Red Sawcks game on Monday, and it was absolutely the craziest game I have ever been to in my life. First the Yanks took a 5-0 lead in the first off of Daisuke Shitsuzaka (who like Josh Beckett, is awful... admit it Sawcks fans!), which they eventually blew when they brought in Chan Ho Park (who also sucks) in the 8th. So they were down 9-7 in the bottom of the 9th, and as you know, A-Rod tied it up with a 2 run homer that immediately followed Daddy saying to me, "There's no way A-Douche comes through in the clutch 2 times in 4 days." Then a couple batters later, Marcus Thames won it with a 2 run homer of his own - Absolute pandemonium at the stadium. We were all jumping around like little school girls, hugging complete strangers, most of which were fat and sweaty, and screaming our heads off. It was unreal. You can't tell me that the juice has been taken out of the Yanks-Sawcks rivalry because the Sawcks are having a down year, Michael Kay, and you saw why this was the case on Monday. Awesome.

Seeing as it's already Wednesday, there is little to no chance that I'm going to take the time this week to write a full 24 review from this past Monday with all the other things I have going on, so I'll just put a little blurb here. Jack Bauer is INSANE. First he ripped the guts out of the Russian dude who killed Renee (moment of silence please. Thank you.), then he put on a FULL BODY ARMOR SUIT and captured President Logan by himself, then he went to the UN by himself and killed every single Russian there, including the main guy Novacovich, who he drove a gold fire poker completely through. First of all, Jack against the world is already unfair for the world when he doesn't have a full body armor suit on. Second, Logan screams like a little girl when he's in trouble. "IT'S JACK BAUER! AND HE'S COMING AFTER MEEEEEEE!!!!" Third, Logan gave Jack everything he wanted to know faster than I would have if Jack was torturing me (pussy). And fourth, Jack was of course smart enough to bug Logan so that he could hear his conversations later, which revealed to him that Russian President Suvarov was behind the entire thing! I was literally peeing in my pants for hours last night during and after this episode, and I could not be more excited for the finale. I need it now.



And finally, I'd like to tell you about a little group I'm starting, called the Jersey City Supporters Club, better known as the JCSC. We are the unofficial official supporters club from, you guessed it, Jersey City, for our beloved New York Red Bulls. I, The Chairman of the JCSC, have fallen hard for our local footballers, and will try to go to every home game that I possibly can, and I want you to join me! The official pregame watering hole of the JCSC is Lucky 7's, located on Coles and 2nd in the JC. We'll typically go there about 3 hours before gametime, then leave for Harrison on the PATH about 1 hour before gametime. Red Bull Arena is awesome, and the Red Bulls are pretty good this year, so there's really no better time to jump on the bandwagon. Plus Thierry Henry is coming! Their next home game is tomorrow at 8:00 PM against Columbus Crew, which coughcoughi won't be attendingcoughcough, but you should go anyway! And for home games after that, I'll see you at Lucky 7's!

Ugh. Another week of work. Though at least this one only has 2 days left in it.

If Jack Bauer played King Leonidas in "300", they would have named the movie "1"- and Leonidas would have won the war.

Monday night's episode of 24 was so good I almost had a seizure. Let's get right to the review, with the help of our handy character guide:



1) Arlo Glass - Was starting to figure things out because Jason Pillar was being douchy to him, and after Chloe convinced him to help her, he has put all of his eggs in the basket of justice. Works well with a Sprint Mobile HotSpot.

2) BITCH - DEAD! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!

3) Charles Logan - Cute when he was picking out which fancy tie to wear. And very obviously consumed with having his "good" name restored by the President because he's fixing all of her problems. Of course, by fixing all of her problems I actually mean ruining her life. His neck fat has that extra special wiggle to it when Jason calls with bad news.

4) Chloe O'Brian - Once again, Chloe has figured out a way around whatever government firewalls that are set up to stop her from getting the job done. A true goddess when it comes to networking and saving countries.

5) Cole Ortiz - Poor Cole is so conflicted. He wants to help Jack. He doesn't want to help Jack. He knows Jack is after justice. He knows Jack doesn't want justice, just revenge. He hates BITCH. He still deep down loves BITCH. BITCH is dead... Cole has had better days certainly. His sass towards Jason Pillar was fun times though!



6) Renee Walker - Such a huge tease when we saw Renee at the beginning of the "Previously on 24" section wearing nothing but a sheet and Jack's love sweat. I miss her. A moment of silence please.















Thank you.

7) Jack Bauer - For the second time in recent weeks, he was 1 step ahead of a plot to capture him, this time taking out an entire crew of Russian mercenaries in the middle of a crowded mall. He is literally unstoppable. Then after he and Mr. Blonde captured the stoned Russian Pavel, he absolutely tortured the SHIT out of him. He is absolutely crazed. When the Russian said, "Go to hell" and Jack responded with, "You first," I actually squirted out a little pee. Then when he cut the guy's guts out and fished the SIM card out of his stomach - holy crap! Jack is my hero.

8) Jason Pillar - All smug and shit until he realized that it's Jack Bauer he's chasing, not some run-of-the-mill ex-marine. He seems to think he's God's gift to this earth, or at least God's gift to Charles Logan, but when Jack kills him too it will be totally awesome.

9) Allison Taylor - Looks like she's going to cry at any moment, especially when Logan continues to give her bad news. That bitch slap from Dalia Hassan that we all know is coming is going to be sweeeeeet.

10) Ethan Kanin - Resting comfortably at home while President Taylor falls apart at the seams without his guidance. I hope he has sufficiently recovered from his heart attack so that he's ready to go when he's elected President for the movie while Taylor and Logan rot in prison together for covering up the Russian's scam.

Other random thoughts on Monday night's episode:

- Meredith Reed has entirely too much plastic surgery in her cheeks. It looks like it's impossible for her to smile, not that she could ever see anything funny because her gigantic cheeks are pushing her eyes closed.

- Mr. Blonde cracks me up. He's got all this weaponry and high-tech gear, can spy on everyone in the world at the push of a button... and he fails to realize the ol' drop-your-cell-phone-on-the-ground-and-swallow-the-SIM-card trick. Come on Michael!

- Jason Pillar's assistant Eden is probably the only hot computer nerd in this world. She's a techie geek's wet dream. Wouldn't be surprised if she ate a little Pillar dong when they fogged up the windows in the CTU Director's office.



- It's already unfair for the world when it's Jack Vs. The World... but now they're going to give him a full body armor suit next week?!? jsdgjlsgnkljsdlnk;jgpiogwopubpiuvwiom[09[M jsd; jvsddsijfj!!!!!!

- RIP Bill Buchanan.

MMBF - 5/10: Introducing Gallen de Rogers and Hammerstein

Good morning everyone, and welcome to this unusually cold May Monday morning here in the greatest state in all the land, New Jersey. I feel like I'm in Ithaca again with it being in the 40s despite us being in the heart of spring. Global warming my ass. Anywhoo, on to the pointless bullshit that I know you all look forward to!

Friday night, after an activity that I will get to later, we went to this delightful little bar in Greenwich Village called Amity Hall. It looks swanky when you first enter, but please my fellow scumbags, do not be deterred by outward appearances. It has a great beer selection, headlined (for me at least) by the always delicious and intoxicating Delirium Tremens, a couple of HD TVs to watch sports on, and at 11:30 on a Friday night, it wasn't slammed like every other bar in the city. We could actually sit around a table and have a conversation. I know right, quite the novelty. Highly recommended by me, the man with the most discerning of bar tastes.

Friday night I was also able to sample one of the newer offerings from Magic Hat Brewery, the Wacko Summer Seasonal. The website describes it as such: ..."a delicious summer beer with a big malty aroma, a subdued hop bite and a clean, slightly sweet finish." I was excited to try a new beverage, and my excitement only heightened when it poured a wonderful red color, almost like Ithaca Cascazilla. Then I took a sip... and my excitement quickly expired. Allow me to amend the description from Magic Hat's website: "a repulsive summer beer with a big toe jam aroma, a subdued cyanide bite and an abhorrent, slightly rancid finish." Yes, it was that bad. Avoid at all costs.

Hungover on Saturday, I decided to take a walk to the mall so that I could help cure my hangover by shoving copious amounts of Taco Bell down my throat. I was so excited; I had visions of Cheesy Gordita Crunches, Beefy 5-Layer Burritos, and Nacho Cheese Chicken Chalupas dancing in my head. So I arrived at the food court and did the usual sample round, tasting the various delicacies on offer from the different food purveyors, when I came across the samples at WOW Cafe and Wingery. To my complete and utter astonishment they had the most delicious honey mustard chicken I had ever tasted, which caused me to abandon my Taco Bell fantasies and order a honey mustard chicken wrap from there. It was quite the turn of events. The Chef of the Century was there, and I'll let him describe the wrap: "The chicken was moist and succulent, and the honey mustard had just the right amounts of sweetness and flavor, with subtle notes of gold. The lettuce and tomatoes were crisp and fresh, while the accompanying cheddar cheese provided just the right amount of texture and zest to finish off the dish. Truly extraordinary!" You heard it here first from Gallen de Robuchon. Now treat yourself to this delicacy.

Also while in the mall on Saturday, I was browsing around GameStop when I came across a game that I think is fun for children of all ages and is a must-buy for parents this upcoming Christmas:



Too soon?

Continuing my mall adventure, I went into CVS to get a funny Hallmark card for my mom, when I stumbled across something that I absolutely had to buy, and only because of the outstanding commercials: Old Spice Odor Blocker Body Wash. It is the first time in my life that I have bought something solely because the commercials are amazing, and this product deserves that distinction. Let's just take a moment and watch one of the commercials again, shall we?:



Like I said before, it's the New Jersey of commercials.

Apparently this weekend the Yankees and Red Sawcks had absolutely no interest in playing competitive baseball, as the Yanks destroyed the Sawcks in games 1 and 2, while the Sawcks won big last night in game 3. Conclusion - Yankees win series, therefore are a better baseball team. Some other observations from a weekend of the best rivalry in baseball: 1) Phil Hughes is on fire. Just absolutely dominant. 2) Francisco Cervelli has the chops to be a good catcher for the Yanks for a long time. I love the way he plays the game. After Jorge retires, he can be the main catcher while top prospect Jesus Montero occasionally spells him, then DHs the rest of the time. Love it. 3) The Yanks have something in Romulo Sanchez. Though I'm sure he'll go back to the minors today so there is a fresh arm to back up Sergio Mitre tonight, he'll be back soon. He's got great stuff. 4) Josh Beckett sucks. Admit it Sawcks fans.

I just want to throw this out there. If you like it, you can throw it right back, if not, by all means keep it: Ke$ha is AWESOME. Not that she's overly talented or anything like my girl Gaga, but just that her songs are ridiculous catchy, but most importantly, she's making an entire career about singing songs based on getting shitfaced and blowing dongs. Now that is something we can all get behind right!? I swear, whenever I hear a song of hers on the radio, the lyrics are always about getting hammered and doing this drug and that drug, then finding some dudes and gettin' it on. It's refreshing to see someone cut the bullshit and just sing about what she loves: drinkin' and (beep)in.' Live the dream Ke$ha.

And finally, I would like to introduce you to the newest member of the New Jersey is Clean, Idiots family, Mr. Gallen de Rogers and Hammerstein. Aside from being the driving force behind such legendary musical theater as Oklahoma!, South Pacific and The Sound of Music, Gallen de Rogers and Hammerstein is a noted theater critic who likes to take in a play or two whenever he sees fit to do so. Most modern theater repulses him, but there was a particular play that caught his eye recently: Peter Pan or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up. The following is his review:

I, Gallen de Rogers and Hammerstein, both the world's most renowned musical writer as well as its foremost theater critic, decided that I would go back to my roots this past Friday and take in a showing of Peter Pan or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up at some small theater in Greenwich Village that I could barely squeeze my fat yet important ass into. It starred some young rascal whose name escapes me as Peter Pan, and his performance was all well and good, but there was one particular actress who caught my eye, Ms. Erica Cenci, who played both the house servant at the beginning and Toodles the Lost Boy for the duration. She was absolutely astounding. Her lines were delivered with authority when required, and her actions brought a new dimension to the script, one that it was apparent the other actors were feeding off of. In all my years, I've only seen a few thespians who have it: Chaplin, Bogart, Olivier, Samuel L. Jackson... and believe me when I say this - Ms. Cenci has it. Watch out for her in the future.

Thanks Gallen de Rogers and Hammerstein, and welcome to the family! And with that, the Brain Fart is over.

Ugh. Another week of work.

Remember that time our lives were changed by a Minivan?

Clearly this week there was no Monday Morning Brain Fart, nor was there an extensive 24 review, something that I'm sure all of you are fretting about. Well you can stop worrying, because I am OK! I almost wasn't, however, because I spent this past weekend at the mother of all American drunk fests, the Kentucky Derby. I know you're now asking yourself the following: Wait, the Derby is a huge party? I thought it was all classy and shit with the rich people, the fancy dresses and the mint juleps? Well, you'd be right, unless you had tickets to the infield, which is so far beyond epic you have to see it to believe it. You know what that means! PHOTO DIARY! So get in the mood with a little Crazy Train and follow me along my journey.



ROAD TRIP TIME! And what was our vehicle of choice you may be asking?



Boo yah! KIA SEDONA BITCHES. Now I know ya'll are hatin' on the Sedones because it's a Kia, but that's where you're wrong. Not only is it a fine automobile, but it creates memories. Do yourself a favor and buy one. Here is where my road trip photo diary gets off to an inauspicious start, as we began our trip at a gas station in Newark that had a glass box convenience store where you had to pass your money in a shelf, after which they would slide you back your candy and drinks in the same shelf. Dangerous neighborhood perhaps? No picture. We also passed a house completely engulfed in flames in West Virginia. No picture either. Good job Steve.



Finally a picture! I had never been to a Sheetz before, and my oh my, what a magical place. Fresh greasy awesomeness at 3:00 in the morning? YES PLEASE.



Or perhaps some Faygo Creme Soda is more your taste. You know, if you like that sorta thing. Not that that's a bad thing or anything. Totally cool.



It was Free Frappe Friday in Kentucky! Too bad the promotion didn't start until 7:00 AM, and we got there at 6:30... that Joseph can be quite the persuasive boy, however. That Frappe is a large by the way, it just looks really small in the giant's hands.



The Sedones standing strong after a 10 and a half hour, overnight road trip. She was just getting started. We, on the other hand, passed right out.



Aw, what a happy bunch of guys. We're so happy to be at the Derbs. And in each other's loving company.

RCal takes us on a tour of the University of Louisville, where the dumbasses closed the book store and didn't allow us to bust a nut all over their merchandise. And by that I mean buy some, not actually bust on their stuff.



Seaton Hall? Where the hell is that?



Sedones, looking good in the sunshine. What a phenomenal piece of machinery.



A little pregaming on the rooftops of Louisville. Someone should tell that building to keep its bathrooms open to that their bushes do not get violated.



On to Fourth Street Live! A place where you can carry your drink of choice out onto the street or into any random bar. Fun times.



Oh hey! 3 Doors Down is playing on the street! The rednecks love them some 3 Doors Down, lemme tell you. We, however, preferred the bars where we discovered that no matter how drunk a girl is, she can always dance on a bar while maintaining perfect balance. A useful life skill, to be sure.



On to Jimmy Johns! Or Yimmy Yohns, as we prefer to call it. A highly desirable sandwich oasis. I highly recommend it should you stumble across one. The bacon is delightful.



Rims bitch.



Time to pregame for the Derbs! A little Jim Beam and...



... some of Natural's Lightest. Only the choicest beverages for my friends and I.



Nice duck boots.



Oh good, the Department of Erections is attending the Derby, I was worried. Louey Colicchio went through great pains to get this photograph as he jumped out of the Sedones as she sat in traffic, ran down this bus, and avoided the threats of that guy hanging out the bus window, who aside from wanting to charge Louey 4 bucks for the photo probably wanted to charge him 4 bucks for a little something else. Or at least that's what I imagine was going through his head.



And so the pregame begins! In a Louisville staff lot. With no other cars but ourselves. Party!



We got hungry, so Ian decided to call for delivery from Papa John's... which just so happens to be the building you see in front of him. The girl he called was named Andy.

Ian: Can I place an order for delivery please?
Andy: What's your address sir?
Ian: Ummm... what's YOUR address?

She would go on to explain to him that delivery had to made from a car. Ian went on to explain to her that he was going to fight her if she said it would take 45 minutes.



We ended up picking it up ourselves. Pushovers.



Apparently Hobb's ass tastes phenomenal. Ian you're gross. Stop crushing our coolers.



The no hands piss! A time-honored tradition at the Kentucky Derby.



And so we walked to Churchill Downs. They shepherded us peasants who had infield tickets to a separate entrance from the rich people, and along the way we passed a whole bunch of Jesus freaks who told us that A) we're going to hell for drinking, B) we're going to hell for gambling, and C) Santa Claus isn't real. WHAT?!?!??! SHIT!



Out of the tunnel we emerged, like a giraffe extracting himself from the butthole of his mommy. What kind of wonders lay before us?



Chaos. Absolute chaos.



We're at the Derby. Gotta get a Mint Julep. Too bad they SUCK. Mint and whiskey absolutely do not mix. And I LOVE whiskey.



Placing our bets. Ian here is demonstrating how to spend a lot of money on ridiculous bets that have no chance of winning. A fine strategy indeed. Though I shouldn't talk. My horses didn't do shit.



The famous twin spires of Churchill Downs, as seen from the infield. It's a good thing we could see those and not the actual horses from where we were. We went to the Kentucky Derby and saw everything but the Kentucky Derby.



As you may or may not know, it was pouring the entire day of the Derby. This caused the infield to be incredibly muddy, which lead to all of us looking like Louey Colicchio here. What a dashing and handsome young man. Charming too.



Why whatever is a drunk person to do in a muddy field? Mud wrestle of course! Most of it was playful, but shit got SERIOUS when some chick grabbed another by the hair, threw her on the ground, and kicked her in head. EAT IT. Biddies, right? Not pictured in this diary: the Kentucky Derby tradition of running across the tops of the port-a-potties while people throw whole cans and bottles of beer at your face, trying to knock you down. It's the New Jersey of drunk activities.



Here's our muddy and pugilistic friend Jane. You can't see it, but she's bleeding profusely from her leg right now. Her mother would be so proud!



After the Derbs we headed home and washed the 36 pounds of mud we had on us off of us, then headed out for another night at Fourth Street Lie!



Followed of course by another trip to Yimmy Yohns. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.



Sunday morning we got back in the Sedones and bounced out of town at about 10:30 AM. As you can see, Scotty is sad that such an epic weekend has come to an end.



We smelled pretty bad, but I can assure you that after this rest stop, our scent could best be described as sexy.



What is men plural?



Hungry and tired of driving in a hurricane, we decided to go to Taco Bell. Then bring the Taco Bell foodstuffs to Wendy's, where we got more foodstuffs. It was both nutritious and delicious.



Scotty's new creation: A Cheesy Gordita Crunch with Wendy's Chicken Nuggets inside of it. This lead to us deciding that a restaurant where all food comes with chicken nuggets inside of it is a great business venture. Any interested investors out there?



The Sedones - standing strong in the elements.



West Virginia has neat names for its mountains. This is clearly not my picture, however. If it was mine the sky would be completely gray and a monsoon would be happening that made us all fear for our lives.



The. Entire. Way. Home.



And as we hit the home stretch, we decided that a Frappe, though not free, was the correct way to wrap up what was an incredible weekend.

Actually, I just re-read this. This blog sucks. I did it no justice. You gots to see the Derbs for yourself. Now be educated!