Remember college? Remember how there was never any decent food? Remember how the wall of cereal was always there to fill your stomach between the 4 P.M. bong hits and the 7 P.M. forty-ouncers? Remember how, after the noon photography class that was too early to attend but before the 2 P.M. awkward naked fumbling with some young thing in your dorm room, you would get a little peckish?

Well, if you haven't been able to pull it together since those days, you can recreate the experience right in the comfort of your own kitchen with the Zevro Indespensible Dispenser. I think my ideal setup would be two dual-rigs, filled with one each of Frosted Flakes, Frosted Mini Wheats, Lucky Charms, and Raisin Bran (for those days I wanted to feel healthy). And, oh yeah, they have wall mounted versions, too. Check it out.

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Posted by Malcolm at 04:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Ah, the heyday of the BBS. It was 1993, and I was living in Maine. Though I had seen online services like Prodigy and Compuserve a year or two earlier, the area we lived in had no local access phone numbers, so we were out of luck. I was consumed by 2600 magazine and the Cult of the Dead Cow text files, and spent much of my after school time alternating between wardialing, fiddling around with the Lexis-Nexis password I had found while dumpster diving, and making pipe bombs. This was all pre-Columbine, and so my black trenchcoat and sociopathic interests didn't raise too many alarms, at the time. Through my dialing efforts, I managed to find my first BBS, and at last, I had a connection through my computer to the online world.

All of a sudden, from a rural bedroom with cows right outside the window, I had access to other kids like myself, all scrolling through Hyperterminal one line at a time. I could download games. I could share text files. I could talk to other people, and I could be anyone I wanted to be. I made friends. I downloaded my own BBS software, and spent countless hours setting it up, desperate to become SysOp of my own board.

My BBS never saw the light of day, though. As it turned out, the BBS I was dialing into WAS a long distance number, and the minute my parents got their first $1600 phone bill, my BBS and computer access was cut off.

That is, until the day I discovered that, through climbing through the drop-ceiling panels in the game room of the Samoset, a local hotel, I could access their internal phone lines. A laptop, some alligator clips, and a modified PCMCIA modem would grant me limited access to the BBS I loved, but it was certainly less convenient, and really gave me only enough time to say goodbye to the friends I had made.

Here is a collection of 1500+ ASCII load screens from the golden age of BBSing. Enjoy the memories.

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Posted by Malcolm at 02:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (37)

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Posted by Malcolm at 02:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

My friend Matt has a saying. "When the Jagermeister shots are suggested, it means that someone isn't having enough fun." Though I am not a fan of Jagermeister myself (what with it tasting like a foot, it containing fiberglass to rip open your stomach lining to force alcohol directly into your blood, and it generally making you feel insane), it is definitely more palateable when served ice cold. Enter the Jager Fountain. It's $300 bucks, it uses less electricity than three light bulbs, and it will ensure that anyone that comes to your house will break a lot of stuff before they leave.

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Posted by Malcolm at 12:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

After reading a pretty glowing New Haven Advocate review, and an interesting Yale Daily News burger comparison, we were pretty excited to try Gastronomique, the "gourmet" French take-out place that recently opened. What followed was a half an hour of despair.

Gastronomique, a tiny, hole in the wall restaurant with no room for dining in, promises "the art of good eating," and features a nice combination of French classics, a prix fixe 3 course lunch and dinner, as well as some American inspired dishes. At around $5-$15 dollars, the price is right, as well. Here was our order, as described the menu:

• High Street Burger, with mesclun greens, tomato, onion, and choice of cheese
• American Steak and Cheese, with mushrooms and caramelized onion
• Croque Monsieur, with prosciutto, tomato, and gruyere
• Onion Rings
• Pomme Frites

The man who took the order was extremely rude, the promised "free delivery" is limited to how far whoever on duty feels like walking, and the attitude when we went to pick up the order was not at all friendly. This was stunning, as it flies directly in the face of France's reputation for warmhearted cheer and politeness.

All of this could have been forgiven, had we not then actually had to eat the food we ordered. In case you are bored of this review by this point, this picture can pretty much sum up what's to come. This is the Croque Monsieur Jillian ordered:

Be sure to click for an even more repulsive close up.

In short, none of the tomatoes that were promised, little hard chunks of what must be the cheese, and thick-cut, dried out prosciutto that had the consistency of a playing card, all served on a horribly burned baguette, for some reason. Also pictured are the "onion rings," a wet slurry of old onions in a styrofoam box.

Sadly, the burger and the steak and cheese sandwich didn't fare much better. The burger, though celebrated by the Yale Daily News as superior to many other spots in town, also didn't contain any of the promised vegetables, and was a bland, tasteless slab on a chunk of toast. The steak and cheese was okay, served on a crusty baguette, but was certainly not delicious enough to ever warrant a return trip.

In short, the entire experience left me feeling appalled that anyone with any sort of conscience or interest in repeat business would ever, EVER exchange this wet bag of garbage for honest-to-God MONEY in an open market. Non-bulimics, avoid Gastronomique at all costs.

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Posted by Malcolm at 07:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Check out this genius bit of engineering. It seems the feds have found a 3600 foot tunnel leading from Tijuana, Mexico, straight into Otay Mesa, California. The tunnel originates in a warehouse in Mexico, and terminates in a similar warehouse here in the States, and contains systems for moving water, lighting, ventilation, electricity, and, whoops, two tons of marijuana. It is the most sophisticated of the more than 20 tunnels that have been found along the US/Mexico border since 9/11.

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Posted by Malcolm at 03:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

While I'm waiting for my competitive eating career to take off, I thought I would share this. Everyone knows that In 'n' Out makes some of the best hamburgers on the West coast. And surely everyone has fantasized about testing the limits of the "add a patty for $1 more!" option at fast food restaurants. Well, this enterprising team made those dreams a reality, with the 100-patty In 'n' Out burger. Watch as this team of of superheroes take two hours to power their way through this $100, 20,000 calorie monster.

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Posted by Malcolm at 11:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Okay, I want everyone to strap in, because I am about to run the serious risk of sounding like a guy who lives in his mother's basement wearing a tinfoil helmet. But I have been thinking a lot for the last two days or so about just what exactly the hell is going on around here. By now, I am sure everyone has seen the downright ineffectual protest staged at Georgetown, where four hooded protestors displayed a large sign reminding us that "Those who would sacrifice liberty for security deserve neither," a paraphrase of a quote by Benjamin Franklin. The protestors were ignored and then quietly ushered out, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about what Ben was saying when he wasn't too busy thinking about his totally kickass bifocals. Here are a few talking points regarding the current state of the Union:

• These protestors put on their display during a speech by Attorney General Alberto Gonzales, who was, in essence, saying that due to 9/11 (ALWAYS REMEMBER! NEVER FORGET!) and matters of National Security, the NSA shouldn't have to be bothered by going through the established legal channels for wiretaps, and should, in effect, be allowed to do whatever the fuck they feel like at any given moment. And if you don't think that sounds appropriate, it's probably because you are a terrorist.
• A few days ago, the Senate Judiciary Committee approved the nomination of Samuel Alito. This is a man who single-handedly would absolutely eliminate checks of power against the Executive Branch of the government. Remember your "checks and balances" chart from high school, illustrating how no one branch can ever become too powerful? Nope, erase half of it. Alito believes in full immunity for administration officials who illegally spy on Americans, a crime President Bush just happens to be being accused of right now. He also believes in the government's right to detain or imprison American citizens without trial, cause, or process.
• Starting next month, RFID chips will be embedded in all US Passports. This will be a convenient way to let valid passport holders in and out of the country, as all of that citizen's records can be stored on that microchip. But oh, guess what else? This chip will also allow the location of passports to be tracked globally, meaning the US Government can know where you are at any given moment. Thankfully, I got my passport this month, which will be one of the last issued without this chip.
• Used to be, if you really got fed up with all of this constant stripping away of our liberties, you could renounce your US Citizenship by, oh, joining a foreign army, or swearing allegiance to a foreign power. Not anymore! The US Government has decided that, even if you give up your Citizen status, you are still responsible for paying US taxes for up to TWENTY YEARS. Read that again. If you happen to have been born in this country, maybe your parents banged while on vacation in Florida and decided to stay, you are legally obligated to give the United States a third of your income for a great portion of your life, even though you are using none of the services or programs that those tax dollars allegedly pay for.

I was talking to a friend the other night, and he wondered aloud when exactly people would start waking up and noticing that the very things that make the USA a decent place to live, are slowly but surely being quietly stripped away from their lives. The thing is, I don't think anyone will speak up, ever, with the current mood of fear that continues in this country. It's not going to be until it's all gone that anyone will notice.

So, readers, I beg you...get the hell out of here before there is nothing left to make being an American feel like a privilege. Get out and lead your own life, in a faraway place, where your only concern is the skin on your back, your family, and how close you can legally build to the ocean. Be worried that the tamales you bought from the truck down the street might make you sick, worry that the cockfight you went to might have been fixed, worry that the delicious barbecue you just ate may, in reality, be cat. Your life is too short, and there's no time to screw around. Do something or get out. We're out of time. The writing is on the wall. This was a nice little colonial experiment, but Game Over, America, glad we had some laughs.

***EDIT: It seems SLATE was similarly freaked out about this whole mess today. Read their article, which hits some of the same points as above only with a little less crazy.

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Posted by Malcolm at 03:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Having lived in some of the more interesting areas of Brooklyn and Queens (including Sunset Park, Astoria, and Cobble Hill, all interesting for very different reasons), it was a pleasure to run across this great site, "Gloria Trembicky is a Bad Landlord." For those that have not had the pleasure of living life as a tenant in NYC, the site provides an often hilarious chronicle of the day to day of living under a careless, shiftless, yet oddly moral and superior-acting immigrant landlord.

Seeing me at work in the second bedroom (which we use as an office), she asked "your husband, he works at home?" E said yes, and Gloria tried to make her feel like she held something over us because of this. "Apartment is for living," she said, but then apparently decided to let this imagined infraction slide. Then she tried to make us pay for the carbon monoxide detector in our apartment. Upon installation of this legally required device, a landlord can charge the tenant up to $20 for it. But this one was already in the apartment before we moved in, and E said so. "But the other tenants, they didn't pay for it!" Gloria said. "Someone has to pay!" I almost hope she takes this grievance up with somebody.

Oh, man, I remember when my old Greek landlord used to let himself into my apartment to sniff around in Astoria. Or when my landlord in Cobble Hill flat-out STOLE three grand from me. Or the guy in Sunset Park who couldn't care less about his building's mouse infestation, but was proud to wax his olive-green Mercedes outside. Or Jillian's landlord in Williamsburg who decided one day that Jillian was, in fact, a whore. But such is renting in NYC...when people are always lining up behind you ready to pay more, expect less, and are happy to do it... there is little reason for landlords to behave any differently. Oh, wait, basic human decency, that's right.

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Posted by Malcolm at 04:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Vultures: Cathartidae

“Vultures are great blackish Eagle-like birds, usually seen soaring in wide circles high in the heavens. Their naked heads are so small for the size of the bird that at a great distance they sometimes appear to be almost headless. Hawks and Eagles have larger, well-proportioned heads.”

excerpted from A Field Guide to the Birds: Eastern Land and Water Birds
Roger Tory Pererson
Sponsored by the National Audubon Society
Houghton Mifflin, Boston (1934).

To A Skylark

Hail to thee, blithe spirit!
Bird though never wert -
That from heaven or near it
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of umpremeditated art.
…

Shelley

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Posted by Jillian at 01:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

We just went and picked up our Volvo, which, although it still isn't driveable, is at least more comforting on our street and out of the clutches of Firestone. We're up to $2900 and counting for a car we still can't use. Someone's ass is so SUED.

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Posted by Malcolm at 11:56 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Silent Hill was the first Playstation game I can remember that scared the hell out of me. Cinematic camera angles, lots of obscured vision, and, for the first time, a real sense of ATMOSPHERE that was simply not present in the early Resident Evil games. Where RE sought to startle you with things crashing through windows, Silent Hill tried to SPOOK the pants off you. Memorable example? At one point, you hear a kitten crying in a locker. You find where the sound is coming from, and open the locker. There is nothing there. About an hour of gameplay later, you return to the locker room. You hear the same kitten crying. You open the locker, and inside, an explosion of blood and gore is all that remains.

So, thanks to the creativity-bereft Hollywood engine, it was a matter of time before this game was turned into a movie. And, Holy Crap Christmas, could it actually be good? My brain says no, but my guts say, "Hmmm, maybe." Check out the trailer and decide for yourself.

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Posted by Malcolm at 12:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Meet Jay Maynard, the Tron Guy. He is cool for the same reason skinheads are; because they both are into a thing. Enjoy! (Thanks, Matt!)

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Posted by Malcolm at 11:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Conversation That Actually Happened Today

Dude: "That's a great bracelet. Did you get in in France?"
Me: "Thanks. Oh No. I got it at Coney Island. yeahrr"

Conversation That I Wish Actually Happened Today

Dude: "That's a great bracelet. Did you get it in France?"
Me: "Thanks. No, but you know what I did get in France? (pause) The Clap."

[resounding cheers and howling laughter ensue.]
Exeunt.

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Posted by Jillian at 11:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I sincerely believe in drug education programs for the kids. absolutely. so it is with good-natured goodness that I present a pencil slogan contest entry from a fifth grader at Bear Path School:

"I don't give drugs
I give huges"

I simply couldn't make this shit up. (make up this shit?)
I'm still laughing.

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Posted by Jillian at 10:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

The Supreme Court of the State of New York dismissed all charges against Synergy6 and Justin Champion in association with the NY State Attorney General investigation into Opt-InRealbig.com, and Delta Seven Communications, LLC for the transmission of unsolicited email. Synergy6 and Justin Champion were completely exonerated of these charges.

Well, it's about time. And Mr. Champion raises an excellent point:

"Who is going to explain to the former Synergy6 employees that their jobs were eliminated through the wheels of politics?” asked Champion. “Is Mr. Spitzer going to explain to my family why he destroyed my business while unable to provide the Court with even a basic establishment of liability on the part of me or my company without ever having a chance to defend itself?”

Until the accusations, Synergy6 was one of the fastest growing agencies in the Internet Advertising Industry achieving nearly $9MM in their first year of operation, growing to nearly 50 employees. Serving millions of impressions daily amongst thousands of websites simultaneously. According to the court document Synergy6 was “put out of business” shortly after the suit was filed. You can read the full court document here.

Also, could anyone else not help but notice that the always oh-so-fairly balanced NYTimes, who splashed news about this for several days across their business and technology sections back in 2003, had nothing to print about the final ruling?

Finally, with all of this messy business behind us, don't you think it's time to celebrate with an "Eliot Spitzer Threatened Me" t-shirt? Enjoy!

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Posted by Malcolm at 09:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The principle of art is to pause, not bypass. The principles of true art is not to portray, but to evoke. This requires a moment of pause--a contract with yourself through the object you look at or the page you read. In that moment of pause, I think life expands. And really the purpose of art--for me, fiction--is to alert, to indicate to stop, to say: Make certain that when you rush through you will not miss the moment which you might have had, or might still have. That is the moment of finding something which you have not known about yourself, or your environment, about others and about life.

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Posted by Jillian at 02:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Guess who got his passport on Saturday? Assuming foriegn countries will let me into their fine nations, in spite of the photo, I have just one thought: "See you in Cabo, suckerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrs."

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Posted by Malcolm at 01:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Everyone who loves classic gaming has probably had the Multi Arcade Machine Emulator (MAME) installed on their computer at one time or another. The more hardcore enthusiasts among us may have even built our own cabinet. But what happens when you set out to do a MAME arcade conversion and have absolutely no technical skills or even a basic sense of style? You get some of the monstrosities featured on this Gallery of Horrible MAME Cabinets. Before embarking on your own conversion project, take a look at these examples of what NOT to do, complete with colorful commentary and a great summary at the end. (Thanks Matt!)

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Posted by Malcolm at 02:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

That's right. The computer I have loved like a sister is now available on eBay. I built this machine from the ground up, and it has been my reliable servant for a long time. But in the interest of being able to travel, I have to sell it and roll the proceeds over into a new laptop. Check out the auction listing for details, feel free to email me with any questions, and place your bids! Auction closes next Friday, at 6 P.M. EST.

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Posted by Malcolm at 06:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

So evidentally, Bruce Springsteen and I get our dirty water hot dogs from the same place. Cal's Hot Dog wagon, convenientally located underneath the Amtrak train overpass in Hoboken South. Sigh, people are peopley.

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Posted by Malcolm at 01:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I know that I'm the penultimate person on the planet to blog about J. T. Leroy this week, and I've never even listened to taped recordings of his/her therapy sessions while we wept on the phone, but I feel compelled to at least mention the bi-coastal transexual literary unmasking that is taking the country by storm. It's scandalous, sickening, and oh-so-obvious - it is delicious!

American fiction is alive and well. Just don't tell 'em you made it all up until you've lunched with Winona.

For further reading:
salon
slate
sf chronicle
and, of course, the times

In a related story, the author and supposed ex-con James Frey was also exposed as a fraud. Dope, he duped the BIG O!

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Posted by Jillian at 12:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Meet Jupelo. This 19-year-old entrepreneur is spending an entire year at Walt Disney World, before he starts his freshman year in college. He started three businesses and has been running them since he was 13, and has a little liquid to blow before he dives into college. The plan? Fly to Disneyworld once per week, spend six days in one of the resorts, and record every minute of the whole thing without going insane.

What may be even MORE compelling is what exactly this kid did to be able to throw that kind of money around at 19, but whatever.

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Posted by Malcolm at 05:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

There are a few comforting facts in this world. Garfield is lazy. Garfield loves lasagna. Garfield hates Odie. An enterprising young University of Washington student has taken these truths and made a gently reassuring website. The Garfield Randomizer creates new strips using three random panels of existing strips, with the ability to lock each panel in place before you randomize again. The result? Often surreal, always comforting, and most of the time, strips that seem to make sense and seem complete in spite of their randomness.

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Posted by Malcolm at 03:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Okay. I have a few things to report, as I've been remiss in my blogging since all this nonsense with holidays and broken cars began, but I'm taking my time. To begin with, as temporary interim secretary at Bear Path School, I've gotten to read some pretty awesome kid shit in the last couple of days: you know the wisdom of innocents, and all that noise. I'd forgotten about Tankas - Japanese poetry about sense and season - and that was a real joy to rediscover, some gems there. But my favorite hallway poetry piece, the one that struck me not for its grace so much as its vernacular and syllable fill-in and fun, is a Haiku by one Brianna Gamache of the fourth grade:

I love soccer, duh
I love to do stupid things
Duh, I love Hebrew

I don' t know. I didn't reverberate with wonder and misty-eyed knowing, but I feel like Brianna has a sense of humor about these half-baked assignments you're always getting assaulted with as as a kid, and I like the girl's hutzpah. Here's to a straightforward 2006. Let's not take ourselves too seriously this year. The year of the happy fool...

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Posted by Jillian at 09:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

So after over a year of waiting, countless promotions, and a wildly fluctuating stock price, Howard Stern began his first day on Sirius Satellite Radio today. I listened to the show, not because I am a massive Stern fan, but out of curiosity. The last year of speculation made me think about a few things. Namely, how can someone who bases his broadcast on shock, continue to be relevant on a platform where nothing is shocking? Once everything taboo is no longer taboo, would there be any appeal? I fully expected to tune in this morning to four hours of fart sounds and audio of people having sex.

I was surprised, instead, to find little more than Howard's normal show, with a few extra f-bombs thrown in for luck. Howard has said, though, that even with no standards or code in place, he is writing his own, which he will adhere to. He said he will not use profanity for the sake of profanity. He introduced George Takai as his new (temporary) co-host. And all I could think was, "Smart, man, smart."

Love him or hate him, Howard Stern is a man who, through a series of very wise choices and shrewd, publicity-manipulating business decisions, has elevated himself far beyond actual celebrity stardom. Howard has been able to make himself a BRAND, separate from the man himself.

Pamela Anderson has done exactly the same thing. In spite of what you may think about this woman, she is a genius businesswoman who has so carefully marketed herself, that she is now famous without having to even DO much. Movies, books, television shows...it was a long climb from her days as the LaBatt's Girl. Here is a woman with little to offer (I don't know her personally, so can only comment on her public persona, her BRAND) in terms of acting, personality, or talent. And you had better believe she knows it. So she got herself the biggest pair of bolt-ons she could, dated men who would keep her in the spotlight, did a few nude photo shoots, got the pre-requisite barbed wire tattoo, and climbed from beer poster girl to fake lifeguard to sitcom star and bestselling author. And if you think all of that was not unbelievably well-calculated and planned, you are vastly underestimating this woman.

Martha Stewart is the last best example of this type of "brand-as-self" personality that I can think of. I paid absolutely no attention to her or her media empire prior to her arrest, where she already proved herself to be an amazingly competent businesswoman. It was AFTER her arrest, and during the relaunch of her new show, where her smart choices and media manipulations became clear. My jaw hung open during those first few days of her show. From the brilliant "Am I the same girl? Yes I am, yes I am!" theme song, running alongside pictures of her early modeling days, casual discussion of her time in prison where she made contraband nutmeg-graters, forced, insincere self-deprecating humor, and remarks about how she "has many lovers," Martha has not tried to ignore her recent troubles. She has taken them, twisted them, and used them to allow her to become completely reborn, in a new persona. And let's not forget the constant shilling of her K-Mart brands, chef's tools, guest-star products, reality television show, and more.

What do these three personalities have in common? They have taken somewhat meager concepts or occupations (morning radio host, girl with nice rack, girl who's good at baking) and turned them into monumental empires through a series of awe-inspiring decisions, strategy, and media manipulations. They make the good work for them; they make the bad work for them even MORE. They have stopped being mere celebrities, have become BRANDS, and can now, through association of their name alone, have the power to make OTHER people or companies famous. It's astonishing, and when you look at the calculations required, can even be somewhat inspirational.

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Posted by Malcolm at 01:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Four jobs you have had: (in random order)

1. Boardwalk Ice Cream Sales - Hammonassett Beach, Madison, Ct.
In this position I effectively managed the dissemination of frozen dairy novelties while wearing a bikini
2. Editorial Assistant - The Hatherleigh Press, NYC
my Editor-in-Chief was the kindest and wisest animated skeleton I've ever met
3. World Religions 101 "tutor"
We all know who earned that 97.5, Darren. Just kiddin, buddy; I had a blast!
4. Researcher and Writer for a book on subtle energy and nutrition for the CEO of SoBe
some of the most intellectually-stimulating lunches with a guy over 50 I've ever had...(best job ever)

Four movies you would watch over and over:

1. Gone With The Wind
2. Dead Poets Society
3. Almost Famous
4. Blue Crush

Four places you have lived:

1. Palm Beach Gardens, FL (0-9 mos.)
2. 17 Partridge Lane, Clinton, Ct 06413
3. Glennville Ave, Allston Student Ghetto, Boston, MA
4. A dormitory that once was a psychiatric ward

Four TV shows you love to watch:

1. Gilmore Girls
2. CBS News Sunday Morning
3. Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations
4. Any Award Show They've Got

Four places you have been on vacation:

1. Ocracoke Island, North Carolina's Outer Banks
2. The Clos Luce - Da Vinci's House in the Loire Valley of France
3. Hemingway's House in Key West, FL
4. Mooie's, the oldest bar on St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands

Four websites you visit daily:

over it.

Four of your favorite foods:

1. cheese
2. bread
3. bisque
4. shrimp

Four places you would rather be right now:

1. My own piece of whitewashed, green/blue and gold in La Paz or near it
2. dance class
3. driving. with snacks and tunes and heading south along the coast.
4. Abbey or Ashram or Island or Mountain far, far away.

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Posted by Jillian at 10:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I'm gonna come right out and say it: The cream cheese at Breugger's Bagels, is gross. Don't eat it, please.

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Posted by Malcolm at 03:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

1. Lobster Sorter at Lobster Pound in Maine (Where I had buckets of dead lobster guts thrown at me by crazed foreman)
2. Dishwasher and Prep Cook at Hippie Bookstore/Coffee Shop ("Malcolm, you need to eat some cucumbers to balance your mood")
3. Customer Service Representative for Failing Dotcom
4. Carry-Out Boy at Shaw's Supermarket (Never could pass that produce test for the cashier position)

1. Lords of Dogtown
2. True Romance
3. Crossroads (The Ralph Macchio, not the Brittany Spears vehicle)
4. Superman II

1. Cairo, Egypt
2. Famagusta, Cyprus
3. St. John, USVI
4. Sierra Madre, CA

1. Dog the Bounty Hunter
2. Gilmore Girls
3. House
4. AFV

1. Las Vegas, Nevada
2. Key Largo, FL
3. Vacations are for
4. people with cushy jobs

1. Gizmodo
2. Something Awful
3. Kotaku
4. Satan's Laundromat

1. Cheeseburgers
2. Sandwiches of any variety
3. Chicken Wings
4. Ice Cream

1. Merida, Mexico
2. The Pusser's on Tortola, BVI
3. At a beer garden in Belgium
4. In a whorehouse in Thailand

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Posted by Malcolm at 11:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Whew! With the holidays good and behind us, except for the Christmas tree still in our living room, here are all the facts you need from the last few days:

• Matt Quits MMORPG Gaming; Lends Me a Ton of Money: I learned today that my friend Matt has given up his World of Warcrack addiction, solidly freeing up his evenings and non-working or sleeping time. I, however, continue to play City of Villians after Jillian goes to bed, during my peak gaming hours of 11PM - 3AM. This is barely noticed at the time, but is sure felt at about 3PM each workday. In other news, I think he is now a partial owner in our Volvo.
• Mrs. Chesterfield Reaches Level 13: And an entire online world cringes in terror at the raw power of her sheer villainy.
• New 1994 Volvo 960 Engine Purchased: Bought a new engine for our car, it should be here on Friday, which means we should hopefully have our car back by next week. It's a 1994, and only has 39k miles on it...which means we will have restored a 14 year old car to practically brand new.
• Jillian Starts as the School Office Lady: Fed up with being surrounded by disgusting teenagers, Jillian starts in the office of a Middle School tomorrow, for more money and less nausea.
• Malcolm Designs Website for Cero's Pizza: This New Haven pizza place has seen the light - they need a kickass site, and I am just the guy to build it.
• Malcolm Enters Superbowl Pool; Is Clueless as to Operation: That's right, I'm buying in. $20 bucks could getcha 2000, we'll see if my luck has changed.

That's all for now! We're rested up and ready to go, so...Happy New Year, and see you tomorrow!

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Posted by Malcolm at 07:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)