Turncoat Politics

Burger Bracket: Minetta Tavern

From NYMag:
Black Label Burger $26

Minetta Tavern
Who pays $26 for a hamburger? Mrs. Platt, that’s who. She says, You get what you pay for. She’s probably right.

Read more: The Best Burgers - Eat Cheap 2009 — New York Magazine http://nymag.com/restaurants/cheapeats/2009/57878/#ixzz0cJyMVZGp

I’ve talked a lot about a burger bracket.  Mainly to myself.  It started last year during the NCAA Tourney- breaking up the island into quadrants and then pitting different burgers against each other.  It would be a range of different burgers- from cheap burger stands (fake ones like the Burger Joint and real ones like Five Guys) to gourmet meat-fests (DBGB Piggy or the aforementioned Black Label Burger).  There are rules, too, you can’t just grind away with no clear goals:  No drinking beforehand (because any burger is good after a couple beers), two burgers per night that you only eat half of, and you have to do two burgers per night so that there is a clear match up.

Minetta wasn’t really part of the burger bracket, because I had a couple Stellas and I didn’t split the burger, but it was the bomb.  It might not make the official bracket, we will see.

More to follow.

From my friend AD, teacher extrordianaire, true school fan

My friend AD is really funny and somehow finds a way to relate life’s ups and downs to true school hip hop.  Amazing…..

……So, I found out that my ex is going out with a friend of mine.  Well, more like an acquaintance.  In fact, he used to work with me.  And I used to work with her.  So by the transitive property, he works with her. 

I’m not sure what to do with this information.  It makes me angry.  I mean, aren’t there some unwritten boundaries regarding these types of situations?  But I’m 30 now, and I realize that staying angry doesn’t accomplish much.  So what do I do instead?

Think of Vegas Strippers.
Spark the leaf.
Build a 1555 piece K’nex Sawblade Thrill Ride.

But it’s not enough.  I still think about it.

I need to channel this anger into something productive.  So I turn to hip hop.  Shit, for the 2.5 years we were dating, I never listened to hip hop.  At least I never listened to the true school that I’m so passionate about.  Her taste in hip hop was limited to Lil’ Wayne, Lil’ Jon, Lil’ Bull Shit.  She used to dance balls out to that crap.  I just shook my head in disgust when it was playing.  She understood that I hated a certain brand of rap music; so whenever we drove anywhere, talk radio was playing in the car.

But I’m single now.  And to find out that she’s dating someone I know has made me furiously single. 

Channel the fury, I tell myself.  Listen to some head nodding beats.   Bump 95 Meth and Red.  Yeah, the lyrics are hypermasculine.  Yeah, the bass is everlasting.  And yeah, I never listened to it, because of her.

But fuck the bitch and her low self esteem and bad taste in music.

I’ve been running and lifting to “How High”.  Running and lifting violently.

Method Man was always the true MC out of the whole Wu-Tang Clan.  I went to his show once at the Sunset House of Blues, where he performed Da Rockwilder.  500 people pumping their fists in unison.  After the song, he shouted, “Y”ALL GIVE ME ENERGY!  I GIVE THAT SHIT RIGHT BACK TO YOU!”

How High just puts me in a better mood.   Three versions for you all to get down to.  The original (off The Show soundtrack), Erick Sermon remix (off Meth and Red’s classic Blackout! ), and How High Part 2 (off the How High Soundtrack).

Peace.  AD

Some gems from Slate's "Write like Sarah Palin" contest

pleasantries:

Runner-up:

“It was only then, after I had removed the saddle from the moose, that I noticed the sweet sound of the warblers singing while perched on the fence post reminding me that unlike New York, Wasilla would always have my heart which not only pumps red, but also white and blue.”

—Brian Breighner

Second place:

“Here’s a little news flash for your Department of Media: Superman’s parents chose life and he was adopted in small-town USA by real Americans who run our factories, harvest our meat-bearing animals, and wave Old Glory down at the courthouse and the churches, not in Washington D.C. by cynical power-brokers and liberal scientists.”

—Steve Aydt

and finally…

First place:

“One night after a long day of campaigning, when the haters had made my spirits reach a nadir, I looked into Todd’s eyes, which were as blue as the stripes on Old Glory, and too representing truth and loyalty, and he looked back at me with a twinkle of determination which I hadn’t seen since I told him my goal of having another baby in my fifties and naming it Tron, then did I know for sure that I could carry on, like he, and we, have done together all of these years on this long, Iron Dog race of a marriage that is at once grueling and celestial, onerous and majestic.”

—Ann Sensenbrenner

Hilarious. Read the rest here. They are worth it.