Saturday, October 28, 2006

"If It's Red, It's Good."

Here is my YouTube debut, of G-Force and me sampling various flavors of Coke at EPCOT. This is quite possibly the biggest inside joke in all of Disney World, for veterans of the Coke pavillion know: Just because it's free and from Italy doesn't mean it's edible.

My voice sounds unusually nasal, but then again, digital cameras are known for their outstanding audio quality. Watch for the properly horrified people in the background.

good hair day, though at: mb@blondechampagne.com

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Horrible Thought Of the Day

I am now three years older than the oldest Friend on Friends when Friends debuted.

Also: New content on DrinkToTheLasses.com. The book should be at Barnes and Noble soon. But don't get it there. Get it here. It's cheaper. Plus I get more royalties. See, I'm all about you, and your needs.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Always American in Paris

I was excited about Notre Dame.

The original, for once, not the brother school. It was one of my few must-dos while I was in France. I studied the architecture for one entire chapter in one of my Western Civ history courses, and was eager to apply my immense scholarly work.

But see, here’s the problem that I, and I’m sure many other Americans, have with Europe: It really needs to get its weather under control. I did not fly across an entire ocean to be rained upon. Seriously, Paris. I think a sincere and immediate apology is in order.

So here’s Notre Dame, and it’s dark, and I enter, and… really, you guys need to clean your cathedral. You’ve had eight hundred years to do it. The paint was all fadey and stuff. What’s with all the dark smudgy marks on the walls? Why is everything so high? I shouldn’t have to look up to see stuff. Plus I had to walk to get to the back of the church, and I think we can all agree that I shouldn’t have to work while touring abroad.

Here’s what needs to happen: The main aisle needs a moving walkway, okay, with fire twirlers positioned alongside for my amusement. And there needs to be way more natural light, so a few Ikea shelf-lined picture windows need to be installed. All the lame depressing statues of dead people can go. A Starbuck’s in the Joan of Arc chapel would also be a vast improvement, because, like—looking at stuff is hard, and makes me very tired. Better yet, just set up a virtual tour booth at the entrance so I don’t have to actually go in the place. I swear, when they built this, nobody was thinking about me.

I mean, seriously at: mb@blondechampagne.com

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Great Pick-Up

One of my favorite aspects of Monaco was its truly hilarious cars.

I wanted a picture of me draped over the hood, then I thought about it and realized that I would have to be simultaneously draped over the windshield wipers, cargo fixtures, trunk, and rear bumper. I am not this bendy.

I cannot imagine the point of this car. It would last perhaps a second and a half on I-4 before some tourist in a comparatively looming Volvo crushed it beneath its Yosemite Sam mudflaps.

Why, for instance, lock it? Jim The Small Child Nephew and his stuffed kitty could carry it off. The wide availability of the tires, of course, must be a selling point; all John Deeres are compatible. Where's the engine? Is there an engine? Or do all the clowns it carries about merely squirt their seltzer bottles simultaneously?

Mostly, I like these cars because it is one of the few on Earth that allow me to say, "My Corolla could bury you."

vroom at: mb@blondechampagne.com

Monday, October 23, 2006

Pig Time

Welcome to the first all-football post in some time. I like to concentrate on my areas of expertise as an English major.

Two wins this weekend. Like all good old-skool Catholics, however, I can enjoy neither of them.

First: Notre Dame. Deeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaam. This is what I like to refer to as a Lando Calrissian game, for that was too close. No way should it have been that close.

Charlie Weiss pronounced himself "happy" at the end of it. I totally believe him, given the fact that he ran off the field looking like somebody just used his new puppy as a scouring pad.

Josh The Pilot called me when the game was won: "Didja see that? That was awesome!"

I played it like one learns to expect these things, once one is in the Notre Dame family, but I hung up and went back to putting my head between my knees, all, "Thirty-eight seconds... why they always gotta do this with thirty-eight seconds to go."

Next day: Bengals. Precisely one Bengals game has been televised here in The Swamp this year, and it was, of course, this one. Waaaaaaaaay too much awesomeness for one season! So I had to follow the score on ESPN's little GameTracker rectangle, which was inconcievable ten years ago and will be hilariously quaint in another ten, when the game will just be projected directly onto our retinas or whatever. Josh The Pilot, given his divided Panther loyalties, did not watch at all.

This time, I called him.

It was a very long while before he spoke.

"...hello."

"Hey!" Pause. "If it makes you feel any better, Boomer picked your team to win today."

It didn't.

Dan Marino picked the Panthers, too, and even that didn't help. It helped me, though, as I was very glad to see them in agreement on something. I've been nervous for Esiason ever since he called Payton Manning "this generation's Dan Marino" with Dan sitting, like, four inches away. Go watch Marino's face at the end of that clip, tell me you're not going to sleep with your hand curled around a Glock for the next several eons. Laces out, Boomer.

midterms done at: mb@blondechampange.com

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