Desperate Times, eh Cap'n Noise?

From Toothpaste For Dinner

Sheena, hope they don't come down the aisle with the tin cup on your overseas return!

Luscious Mad Men

The best show you're likely not watching: AMC's Mad Men. I only fell into watching it in the last few weeks because of its copious 16 Emmy award nominations. Provoked to know what the buzz was about, at least once, I set the DVR.

Wow. Luscious is the best word. The sets, the costumes, the images, the dialogue, the story. It defines, to me, What Is Sexy. From like, before, you know?

What I like best? Scene after scene after scene with what is NOT said. What is left to us to interpret, to noodle, to recognize and go "Yes!".

John Maeda's Laws of Simplicity, Law #10:

"Simplicity is about subtracting the obvious, and adding the meaningful."

Mad Men embodies this law. Check it out.

(Ok. So I'm in lust with Jon Hamm. Sue me!)

Bacchanalia, revisited

Sheena is returning soon to the kudzu. Many Atlanta institutions are preparing to roll out the red - er, animal print carpet - in her honor. One such establishment - Bacchanalia - was the scene of Cheek's F*ck Forty milestone, celebrated with Kimplicated. Sadly, I didn't do justice back in January to describe the foodgasm that is Bacchanalia. So Sheena, here's a hint of what you're in for. I can't BELIEVE you and the Georgia Peach are going to go without me while I head to setup for the gig that night. B*tch!

I missed capturing the first course, but the amuse bouche served afterwards was a lovely celery soup:

Scallops were my main. Only the third time I've had them since the food revolution of 2006, and these were the best ever. A hint of garlic, and a yummy light cream sauce.

A light salad with yummy stinky cheese was next. Sorry Sheena - it's been too many months for me to remember which kind.

Speaking of cheese, Sheena's like to really dig the storefront of the restaurant, better known as Star Provisions. Absolutely scrumptious finds of cheese, oils, wines, and more, as well as various cooking and kitchen accoutrement.

A warm cider and small cookie served as the taste after the salad, with no hint of the decadence to come:

Dessert was a three course affair. The ladies dining next to us ordered everything on the dessert menu about the time that our mains were served, so Kimplicated and I got the tour and diner feedback as to best selections. My poison was a warm apple-y cake with caramel and ice cream, while Kimplicated's was flourless chocolate goodness.

Next came a dessert course surprise - Bacchanalia's own birthday cake. Absolutely the best I have ever had, with a perfect proportion of icing to cake. It kicked the previous desserts' asses.

But wait! There's more! The final presentation involved tasty sweet bits, all of which were taken home as stuffed silliness was upon us. Delight the next day upon opening the box for breakfast to discover extra bits added by the staff.

Driving home meant light imbibing, so we didn't opt for wine pairings with each course. Our server steered us towards ordering a glass with the main and then the cheese/salad courses, splitting between the two of us each time. We shared a moscato d'Asti with dessert.

Enjoy, Sheena. I can't wait to read your review!

Her energy policy doesn't completely suck

I wouldn't vote for Paris Hilton for president, but her energy policy does not completely suck. Definitely a Video You Should Know About (V.Y.S.K.A.). Spanks to Pid for sharing!

The XY Games

A fabulous op-ed piece appeared last week in the NY Times, entitled "The XY Games", by Jennifer Finney Boylan. The article details why the sex tests for Olympic athletes are profoundly flawed.

"The Olympic hosts seem to want to impose a binary order upon the messy continuum of gender. They are searching for concreteness and certainty in a world that contains neither.

Most efforts to rigidly quantify the sexes are bound to fail. For every supposedly unmovable gender marker, there is an exception. There are women with androgen insensitivity, who have Y chromosomes. There are women who have had hysterectomies, women who cannot become pregnant, women who hate makeup, women whose object of affection is other women.

So what makes someone female then? If it’s not chromosomes, or a uterus, or the ability to get pregnant, or femininity, or being attracted to men, then what is it, and how can you possibly test for it?

The only dependable test for gender is the truth of a person’s life, the lives we live each day. Surely the best judge of a person’s gender is not a degrading, questionable examination. The best judge of a person’s gender is what lies within her, or his, heart."

This article brought a great read to mind that I tripped across 2 years ago after listening to an NPR segment: Norah Vincent's Self Made Man.

Her writing about how men interrelate when women aren't around was enlightening and stereotype-busting. Definitely an unsuck read.

Have you been naughty or nice this summer?

He's always watching!

From Tony Carrillo's F Minus

They should make one of these

From Randall Munroe's xkcd.com

It Could Happen to You!

Don't let this happen:

"Official Energy Drink" from marriedtothesea.com

But it's ok if this happens - really!

From MoveOn.org

And since I'm on the subject of politics, check out Sean Tevis' xkcd-style campaign for a state representative spot in Kansas. Schweet!

Love Leaps

From Mark Tonra's James

Happy anniversary, CarolinaMom.

Positively Coyote

Wishing Coyote love today.

'tis the season for flip flops

From Tony Carrillo's F Minus

Well, Zeke, they ain't got nuttin' on Pid's beer bottle opener flip flops!

Spanks, Pid, for supplying the snap upon request!

Happily Unchaste, and Dreams

From Hugh MacLeod's gapingvoid.com

Today's What Is Sexy bits (W.I.S.B.s):

Words are, yet again, sexy.

Today's first sexy words came to me by way of my A.W.A.D. missive's thought for the day:

"There are no chaste minds. Minds copulate wherever they meet."
-Eric Hoffer, philosopher and author (1902-1983)

Just may have to pick up Hoffer's The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements. Reading Malcolm Gladwell's The Tipping Point has me all a'twitter about societal cause/effect schtuff. If you haven't read The Tipping Point, RUN!, don't walk, and get a copy today. It's an unsuck read.

But, back to my unchasteyness. I may not have (yet) met Hugh MacLeod's mind in person, but his words have caused much copulation in my mind. Mental masturbation? I digress . . .

Hugh's post yesterday included this copulative nugget:

"It's good to be young and full of dreams. Dreams of one day doing something "insanely great". Dreams of love, beauty, achievement and contribution. But understand they have a life of their own, and they're not very good at following instructions. Love them, revere them, nurture them, respect them, but don't ever become a slave to them. Otherwise you'll kill them off prematurely, before they get the chance to come true."

Rock on, Hugh! Here's to not becoming a slave to your dreams. And, to not forgetting them.

From Randall Munroe's xkcd.com

Duuude: It's okay

I shore do lurve Stephan Pastis!


From Pearls Before Swine

R.T.L.B.: Don't be an asshole, illustrated

"It's easier to be an asshole to words than to people" is the hover over text when you view this cartoon on xkcd.com. Ain't it da truf?

Rule To Live By: Don't be an asshole!

Summer Serendipity, Vol. 2

If you're ever in Brevard County, Florida - also known as the Space Coast - be sure to stop by the Green Turtle Market in Indian Harbor Beach. This place was the shiz when it opened in 2000 - the beach, much less the county, is known for gourmet market options. Great wine selection, with tastings on weekends, and they recently opened up a restaurant. FloridaDad had me pick up some Pinot Noir that's hard to find elsewhere.

Could *not* resist buying a bottle of red based on its packaging, with designs on quaffing it during my next Sheena sojourn.

Alas, dumassedness intervened to thwart shared quaffage. Cannot explain how my brain went so slack as to deliberately put the bottle in my carry-on. TSA asked to inspect my bag at the Orlando security screening, and I didn't bat an eye based on the copious electronics traveled with. Dismay descended when they pulled out the bottle. No! Say it ain't so!

Reached for my camera to at least have a snap of it, but I was thwarted again. Ucking camera has a mind of its own about whether or not it will deign to take a snap in low light. Was not to be.

TSA way cool chick to my rescue! And cute to boot. She wips out her camera phone, takes a snap, and asks me for my e-mail address. I viewed the snap on my phone not 2 minutes later. So Sheena, here's the bottle meant for you:

That's What She Said, Redux

Can't believe I beat CountryMouse on this!

From Randall Munroe's xkcd.com

Original "That's What She Said":

Happy Horse's Ass Day, CountryMouse!

So you're starting your forty-second year. Methinks this will be your best, CountryMouse. Everyone knows that 42 is the answer to life, the universe, and everything. Will you share your sage wisdom?

Pid is counting down the days of his forty-second. Funny. He doesn't seem all that wise to me, 'ceptin' for the wiseass part.

Summer Serendipity, Vol. 1

Hawaii was grand. Exploiting the bidness trip for a few days' siesta did not suck, at all. And FloridaDad and SWEJudy's place was swell, beautimous as always. But being back at the daily grind, no matter the lovely latitude, still sucked. Praise Allah for the weekend.

After a great knosh in Melbourne (FL) with Coyote, she allowed as how I had to experience something. Witness, if you will. We made our mosey over Eau Gallie way and strolled around the galleries and antique stores to see the "illegal" art flourishing.

And man, I mean FLOURISHING.

This stuff lifted me out of my descending work funk and slammed me back in the now. To being present. To feeling a high from the energy that this stuff evoked. I'm so glad I didn't stumble on it solo, but had a guided tour from Coyote whose innate artist's eye pointed out the cleverness. The freehand artistry combined with use of stencil and cardboard mad skillz. Equations stenciled atop graffiti - had not ever thunk it.

One of the artists is Clifton Chandler. Shortly after Coyote took me to see it, she ran into the father of a few of the other folks who are working on the piece. There are no coincidences!

Sadly, this ends the great series of snaps captured by the camera so graciously lent by Buckwheat. Dood, how's about I buy it off ya to fund yer SLR purchase?

Get your airboat on!

Accompanied the 'rents to a shindig put on for an association end of year thang. Am feeling quite stoopid that I never knew you could take an airboat ride in these here parts to traipse around the St. John's River. Yes, you can, at the Lone Cabbage Fish Camp.

Here's the ride heading north from SR-520:



Many gators sighted, we stopped to spy one up close and personal.



Last bit of the half hour ride was South of 520 to Lake Poinsett.



Post-ride eats at the fish camp included fried cat fish, baked tilapia, slaw & beans, and yummilicious hush puppies. Seafood *always* comes with hush puppies. Northern climes often uck this up.

News to me in Southern styles is a Bloody Mary served, not with a stalk of celery, but with - ew! - a pickle. Cheek swoonage ensued, and not in a good way.

Head still spinning from the pickle ick factor, upon departure we spied the requisite Southern entreaty to return. Grrr ... Kernan the Grammarian's bile rose. Move that apostrophe, I do dee-clayuh!

From one tropical location to the next

Took a red eye from Honolulu to Orlando by way of Atlanta, and managed to not sleep a wink. Might have had something to do with sitting in the exit row and freezing my ucking *ss off. My feet were warm, tho.

Tip: even tho' you're visiting a tropical clime in summer, remember to bring socks to don on the plane. Feet properly stockinged, stick 'em inside the plastic bags from the blankets that you're still lucky enough to get on overnight flights. Wrap a blanket around your plasticated feet, and you're set!

Was a tad surreal to arrive at FloridaDad's and bask in the warmth and beauty of his home with his fine bride SWEJudy. A nap soon ensued.

All relaxed 'n' stuff from these pretty Islands in the Sun (Weezer YouTube vid).