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So my long time buddy Jimmy Ray Coleman has a new sitcom pilot called "Strokes". He created it, wrote it, produced it, and stars in it, and I'm posting the trailer here, and we'll follow the life of it. I hope it gets picked up somewhere. Jim is an amazing actor, a great friend, and I'm tired of seeing his ass in asthma commercials.
You may recognize Ajay Naidu, who plays Sanjay in Strokes, from his role as Samir in Office Space.
The bleeping theme is back the way it bleeping should be.
I have but one piece of advice today, from sunny south Florida, where there are no sidewalks: make a will, and let your loved ones have instant access to it, as well as your safety deposit box. Lest your name is cursed over endless glasses of Jameson.
Don't get used to it. It's my little thang for Earth Hour. Kind of like Blackle, but more scientifically accurate.
And look in the upper right and at the post bullets. A tribute to Kurt Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions.
Although this could probably fit into Oyster's "Socialism for the rich" theme, since the limits are $729,750.00 for some areas and $1,094,625.00 for places like Guam.
Million dollar homeowners need bailouts? Fuck me.
The Bush administration is finalizing details of a plan to rescue thousands of homeowners at risk of foreclosure by helping them refinance into more affordable mortgages backed by public funds, government officials said.
So what does this mean for people like me, that got fucked on the rates, rented for years until they could afford the 20% down to avoid PMI, that now have to get their house shored up because of the federal flood, but somehow manage to make their mortgage payment?
"Fuck you", that's what it means. "You're a fool for trying to play the game your daddy played, 'cause we changed the rules, mook".
I'm to the left of Che Guevara, politically, and this is yet another reason why. It's also a reason why this post-capitalism doesn't have too long before a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets.
Yet, we can't afford levees...
As reported here year after year, Nike Woods (yes, for 1.2 Billion Euros, Eldrick sold his first name to Nike, Inc. His full name is now "Nike Puregreed Woods") refused to come to New Orleans to play in the Zurich golf tourney. Again.
In 2006, when we could have really used the publicity for recovery, he claimed that he was taking time off to spend more time with his ailing father. In fact, he went car racing and bungy jumping. Bitch.
In 2007, he just dissed us outright.
Sure, he's been here before. As an amateur. Never as a professional.
Compare this to Lefty, who donated a quarter million in 2006, and Michelle Wie, who donated a half million. Wow. Thanks.
I'm kind of torn about Zurich. I'm glad they pony up to sponsor the golf tournament, but why does their subsidiary, Farmers, have to rape us?
At least the real heroes are showing up at the golf course. Can you get chefwear in kevlar? (thanks Schroeder)
For crying out loud, Nike Tiger Nike wasn't even here to film the damned Buick commercial in da Quarter. Bluescreened.
So the question becomes, is he just such a fuckmook that he doesn't care about New Orleans a single iota, or is he afraid to come to one of the five Blackest cities in the USA?
Fucking racist.
I mean, he has to be a racist, right? He can't hate New Orleans that much...can he?
My street was one of the first subject to the new gas pipelines that Entergy is putting in. So they destroyed major portions of the sidewalk, did their business, and then repaved them.
Kinda.
Here in New Orleans, our links to the past are one of the things that make us different. Who doesn't love reading the tile embedded in the sidewalk in front of Ms Mae's? Or Casamento's? But with all this progress, a lot of our heritage is getting flushed down the pooper.
Case in point: on Claiborne, where it approaches Jeff Parish, some of the new street signs are green. Not blue, like they've always been outside the quarter. Green, like they were ordered from the same place every other suburban jungle orders theirs.
Green, like they have in Houston.
This just pisses me off. Yeah, charge me another 1/4 of 1% sales tax. But don't screw with what ain't broke, homes.
Case in point 2: the old sidewalk on my corner had beautiful tiles inlaid into the concrete, showing the name of the street. These are the little things that let you know that you're on a street with 100+ year old homes, not some Seaside Florida bastardization of all that is Holy in New Orleans.
Well, Entergy destroyed these, and just paved it over like we live in Sharpstown.
Here's what the old street corner (Birch and Pine, riverside downtown) looks like on the left, and here's what the new street corner (Birch and Pine, lakeside downtown) looks like on the right. You can click on the images for a larger view.
Entergy, fix it. Fix it now. You're a damned public monopoly, guaranteed to make a profit.
Make it right. It's all important.
Update: Here's Entergy's online complaint form.
But there's more stuff on the hog than that.
Here's the happy fun post about my 9th anniversaire dinner. When given a choice of August, Emerils, or Cochon, da wife picked Cochon.
Only thing is, when you go to their website their website, the menu doesn't have near as much porkage as I would like. I mean, this is Louisiana. I can get boudin everywhere. I want the nasty bits at a place named cochon.
Blood sausage, kidneys, liver, sweetbreads, chitterlings, pig's feet, whatever. If chef Link puts it on the menu, I will try it.
Pre-dinner drinks: champagne w/pomegranate juice for da wife, and a "louisiana citrus mojito" for me. Hands down, the worst mojito I've ever had. I figured I'd then get a mint julep -- the kentucky mojito. Much better (real mint leaves!), but, and I can't believe I'm saying this -- too strong. So far, no challengers to the Bridge Lounge mojito, except my own, served with Havana Club rum. Axe the Oyster, this is like the glacier water the Waterboy drank.
So anyway, we got the pork cheeks and the boucherie plate. The tasso on the boucherie plate reminded me of spicy jamon de Serrano, which is one of the best things in my little world. Truly excellent. I'd like a whole plate of this, like tapas. Also, the best head cheese I've ever head. Tasty, but not too spicy. They did have hot sauce on the side, though.
The main course was the cochon plate for me and the rabbit and dumplings for da wife. Sides: green bean casserole and creamy grits. The grits were about the best I've ever had. The green bean casserole didn't come out of a can, so it wasn't as good as mine at Thanksgiving. The cochon plate was wonderful, and the rabbit was extremely peppery, and painfully hot (the cast iron is a nice touch, but you have to wait 15 minutes before you can eat it), but good.
Dessert time: da wife had a chocolate parfait, I had the lemon-buttermilk pie. Mine was wonderful, hers ok, but not spectacular. I was hoping for a pork based dessert, kind of like when Morimoto serves up the squid ice cream with eyeball. No such luck.
So I enjoyed it, and I'll go again, but I wish they had a more adventurous menu.
So, between all the charters, and the RSD, and OPSD and everybody else, and all the bitching about it, it looks like somebody decided to do the right thing.
Committee formed to consolidate New Orleans public school efforts
Excellent idea. Right?
Read further:
"The committee, chaired by Tulane President Scott Cowen and Dan Packer, the retired president of Entergy New Orleans, is made up of several community power players."
EXACTLY FUCKING WRONG!
Does Cowen have any kids in public school? Has that fuckmook done anything right since Katrina and the federal flood?
Yaaahhhhhhh!!!!!
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO.
Let's take a fucked up, Balkanized situation, and make Cowen into Marshal Tito.
Fucking wrong, all of it. And who will pay the price?
Your children.
The Broncos are apparently "this close" to signing Olindo Mare.
However, for after dinner drinks, they had the typical ports and cognacs, plenty of bourbon, but they also had a selection of moonshine. Actually, not real shine, but corn whiskey. They had 5 options, and I'd had 2 of them, so I asked for a "moonshine flight" of the 3 I had not tried. They serve a bourbon flight, so they fixed me up. The "Catdaddy" was flavored, and stunk -- like low budget Goldschlager. The one in the middle smelled and tasted like the stuff I used to get from my friend in Gautier, that had some woods in back of his house. The dark one was like a bourbon: it appeared to be aged in oak barrels like a bourbon, and it absorbed some of that flavor. Very nice. The finish, however, was pure corn squeezins. 
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