#47 - the olden days.

i was doing some research & have discovered that you used to be able to do everything back in the day! nowadays, in the 08, they don't let you do anything, let you have any fun. it's soooo lame.

for starters, you can't even drink after the 7th inning any more. back in the day, you could drink til the end of the game. back then, people actually liked it when baseball games went into extra innings. this one pawtucket red sox game went 32 innings & they eventually had to finish it the next day. nowadays, if the game hits extra innings, that's just time for your buzz to wear off & make you care that your seven-year-old has school in the morning.

back in the day, in this country, it used to be that if you owned a business & your employees tried to bring fair labor to your workplace, you could whack the snot out of them pinkerton style. pfft. if you want to do that nowadays, you have to open up a plant all the way down in south america. i can't say that there aren't any upsides to the current situation though. after all, if you move operations to south america, you get to hire paramilitaries instead of pinkertons & disappear people, which is SO rambo compared to the twirly moustaches & derbies of the pinkertons.

once upon a time, you could walk up to the side of the road with a bindle & a dream & a lucky thumb and hitchhike across this great nation, doing odd jobs, sleeping with random women & philosophizing with random hobos, just like in on the road. you try to pull that crap in the 21st century & you're nuts. i can say from my own experience that i've never been tempted to pick up a drifter & if i was the kind of person who was crazy enough to actually pick up a drifter, i'd likely also be the kind of person who was crazy enough to murder them & store them in my freezer. luckily i can't afford to own a car. it just doesn't seem safe to hitchhike any more is what i'm saying...definitely frowned upon.

i mean, it used to be that you could smoke cigarettes anywhere & drive snowmobiles on whatever land you wanted to under the influence of whatever you wanted to & shoot as many buffalo as your uzi could handle. then you could bring it home & feed your family for months. that's gone now. your son is vegan & the buffalo are protected & if you have weekend plans to grab your favorite automatic weapon, down a sixer of bud on the drive to yellowstone & hang out in the old faithful inn sucking down winstons & whiskeys before hopping on the ol' arctic cat for a couple of hours of bunny hunting, you can forget it. that ship has sailed. this is 2008. POST-9/11.

#47 - the olden days.
snack: archer farms spinach & artichoke tortilla chips
drink: peak organic pale ale

the snacks have gotten better though. when i was growing up, there was no way on god's green earth that you could get your hands on a spinach & artichoke tortilla chip. if you lived outside of cali & did get your hands on a tortilla chip it'd be flavored with salt and/or cheese and you'd like it. in the nowadays, i can get all sorts of flavors in a tortilla chip, like the target brand archer farms spinach & artichoke tortilla chips. i was originally going to grab some sort of dip to go with these chips, but they've got the flavor to satisfy my aching heart. dip would have been overkill...but if you hate flavor chips, i can't help you son.

& i'm washing down these tortilla chips (FROM THE FUTURE!) with a bottle of peak organic pale ale, brewed out of portland, me. the bottle has a picture of an outdoor gathering with the quote "friends gathering on a fine evening" at the top. looks like a bunch of dudes on one side & a bunch of ladies on the other side. i bet you nobody got laid at that party. although...it's a pretty tasty pale ale and goes down easy. maybe this photo was taken early on in the night, before they had drank LIKE FIFTY peak organics. it's ten times better than bud.

nowadays, beer is definitely better. fo sho. there are organic beers & beers from around the country & around the world & brands with more than one type of beer other than "regular" and "light"...but we do miss out on those sweet beer cans with the pull top. those things rule. in conclusion, we couldn't have expanded our beer quality & taste without the help of our global economy. let's have a round of applause for our global economy. hip hip.

#45 - eat! drink! smoke!

today's "stupidest thing ever said," courtesy of my one-a-day calendar:

WOMAN NOT INJURED BY COOKIE
- actual newspaper headline

thank you for your guidance, one-a-day calendar. thank you for providing me with an example of a brave woman who, when she found herself face-to-face with a cookie, emerged victorious...a real story of human triumph over a snack item. i take this as a logical sign that i have the o.k. to throw caution to the wind on this saturday evening, as i too, am human.

#45 - eat! drink! smoke!

snack: rold gold dipped twists fudge coated pretzels
drink: dogfish head 120 minute i.p.a.
smoke: imported dreams belgian blend

i picked up a bag of rold gold dipped twists fudge coated pretzels to snack on tonight. i love chocolate covered pretzels. back at the tail end of the 90s, i was in my mid-twenties & living in boston & working extra hours part time at a boston university "campus convenience" store. i used to eat chocolate pretzel flipz for breakfast, usually with a nantucket nectars orange mango juice. developed me a sweet extra chin for a little bit during that period of my life. anyway, i like these rold gold ones. they're nothing special, but good nonetheless.

holy crap this beer is hoppy. it's a dogfish head 120 minute i.p.a. and it's amberish & opaque & when you bring it to your mouth, your nose finds itself buried inside the glass & it's all holy friggin' hops!...it does smell nice, like when you get a whiff of a really good wine or champagne or scotch or what have you vice wise & smell-related. maybe you like dirty diapers. to each his own, i say. at least you've found something to appreciate. so this beer experience is like that.

on the side of the bottle it reads "what you have here is the holy grail for hopheads. this beer is continually hopped over a 120-minute boil and then dry-hopped every day for a month. enjoy now or age for a decade or so." a decade!...says "ages well" right on the front label. i'm telling you, aging beers is the cool thing to do. take your aged wines & cheeses & cram them. i have one beer that i'm aging. it's this beer from belgium that's "brewed with dandelions." my bottle is from 2004, so the label is all crudely hand-sketched & totally different. i have no idea what the deal is with the crazy ghost on the current label. ms whitney rodgers gave it to me along with five other beers, a gift from a short ways back from an auction she went to & thought of me at. i drank the others a while ago, but now know when i hope to enjoy this final sixth bottle & why.

& tonight with the chocolate covered pretzels & the hoppy hoppy beer, i'm having me a flavored cig. why not? i don't REALLY smoke. the best part about these, other than the slight chocolate taste left in your mouth (which is fine if you don't mind the accompanying smoke taste), is the name. apparently, they used to be named "sweet dreams chocolate." now they've changed the name to "imported dreams belgian blend." why? because flavored cigarettes, whose yumminess appeals to teens (teens love yumminess!), have been a recent target of lawmakers, even though they only represent a mere fraction of overall cigs smoked. at the same time, the menthol cig (like a cigarette AND a minty breath mint!) remains free to frolic unfettered through african american communities. obviously. so the flavored cig companies had to change their product's names to make them less appealing to teens, and if there's one thing that teens could care less about, it's belgium. so they're now a "belgian blend." obfuscation mission accomplished.

#44 - oh c'mon.

i'm generally a pretty upbeat person, but this past weekend friggin' beat me down emotionally. looking back on it, it's your classic case of one main draining event combined with & compounded by a million tiny, absolutely insignificant events & eventually ending up in a state of quite irrational utter blah sadness by the weekend's finish.

it all started quite promisingly on friday. my company was moving offices (from dumbo/north brooklyn to times sq/hell) over the weekend, so the majority of my friday work day was brainless packing of boxes, mixed in with a "closing down the office" beer or two & the ability to leave slightly early...but then i stopped by brooklyn's cadman plaza post office & the downward spiral began.

i stopped by the post office to drop off a package for a co-worker. the package was already all postaged up, but since it was all international & junk, i had to actually hand it to a postal employee, so i got in a 12-person line serviced by 1-4 windows & waited. for 40 minutes. these days, my ipod remains charged for an average of 40 minutes at a time. it has its bad days & good days & on this day, the bitchy lil nano died half way through the line experience. there weren't any luscious babes to gander at, so i alternated between leaning on the counter & huffing for the remainder of the time. when i finally got to the window, i inserted the package into the special bulletproof glass package sender & the guy behind the counter waited for me to shut my side of the sender & pulled out the package to examine it. i let him know that it already had postage right there on the front & i just wanted to hand it to him to make sure we were kosher. he smiled & pleasantly told me that we weren't. my co-worker had miscalculated & i was two bucks short on postage. at this point, i had had enough of cadman plaza & its persistent suckiness, so i refused to offer up an additional $2 for postage, had him slide the package back to me through the bulletproof glass package sender & went home.

but everything would be fine. i grabbed two dogfish head ales on the way home & settled down round the apartment for a few hours whilst preparing to go see a band i'm attempting to manage to deserved superstardom and/or infamy, the amazing missing teens. eventually, i finished off both of the dogfishes, so...

#44 - oh c'mon.

snack: archer farms jalapeno savory pretzels
drink: berkshire brewing company berkshire ale

...i cracked open the 22 oz of berkshire brewing company berkshire ale i'd purchased for bloggin' purposes whilst visiting a friend's new condo in ipswich, ma over the holiday. i suppose i should have bought an ipswich ale & blogged about that given the proximity of the condo to the actual brewery, but who's watching? the blog police? i don't think so. it has a pretty tasty, caramely sort of flavor & the company's initials are b.b.c. & that's cool, so i finished it off, grabbed my vacuum (my management contribution to that evening's live performance) & jumped on the subway.

the evening went well overall. a few of my friends represented at the show & we hung out & that ruled. i met some new peeps & adorable ladies. that ruled. i drank lots more beer. that ruled...until the end of the night, when i was wasted & as a result became internally deeply unhappy when i discovered that the tube to the vacuum had been lost during the evening...so i carried my crippled vacuum home on the subway at 3am filled with the sadness, got home, drank some water & crashed. when i awoke around 10am, i was TOTALLY ILLIN. it was like that scene in spaceballs, but with more hot flashes. my body expelled everything that was in it & everything i subsequently tried to put in it (it was all "f you water! f you fruit punch gatorade!") until about 6pm that evening, when i finally slept it off. the weird thing was that it didn't feel like puking from a hangover though. it felt like puking feels when you're twelve years old, puking from actually being sick & i wanted my mommy...& then hours later it was gone.

in the course of that pukefest, i expelled the bounty of archer farms jalapeno savory pretzels i'd consumed during the previous eve. if you're like me & the dryness of pretzels starts to get to you, even when accompanied by a tasty beer, these pretzels are for you. they have what critics like to refer to as "zingy powder flavoring" & that goes a long way toward upping the amount of these i can consume in one sitting. in summary, they tasted really great going down.

once the pukefest was done, i was in no shape to leave the house & was unquestionably chillin' for the eve & eventually, the rest of the weekend. hasbro had finally forced scrabulous to change their game board a few days earlier, so it's no longer a copy of scrabble & i no longer care to play it. without it, i went through withdrawal this weekend, as i was bedridden & unable to kill hours playing scrabulous.

...& on sunday i woke up & checked out my "the 365 stupidest things ever said" calendar. the day's entry, a quote from football player cadillac williams, read "he might have won the war, but the battle's not over." even with its illogical logic, it felt like quite the defeatist way to start the day.

...so on sunday, i stayed home & killed lots of time watching episode after episode of the shield. it's damn good tv, but the setting & circumstances & overall despair of the show definitely wears on you, especially after 7-8 straight episodes. when this marathon of despair was mixed in with all the emotionally downwardly spiraling events of the past two days (including other stupid things like the cat annoying me or the shower water taking too long to heat up), i was not in a happy place, so i drowned my sorrows in the rest of that bag of pretzels...& things turned out ok. this time i didn't puke them up.

#43 - hispanic attack.

mon dieu. as a teenager in high school, why in le monde did i choose to learn french over spanish? here's what i've learned as an adult: pretty much nobody speaks french. it's a useless language unless you want to go to france or quebec & pretty much nobody ever goes to either of those places. these days, all the cool kids are speaking spanish. i mean, according to the ethnologue, it's the 2nd most spoken language in the world, just ahead of english. french? 17th. last i checked, they don't give out medals for 17th.

i really should learn spanish. i've given it a few half-assed attempts over the years, but in reality, i've put more hours toward learning bengali. i guess it's because its alphabet is ten times more beautiful/fun to write with. still, i have a lot more call for spanish on a daily basis than i do for bengali. currently, two of my favorite tv shows contain high-ranking hispanic officials & sometimes they speak in spanish and fx & showtime apparently can't afford subtitles or is forgoing subtitles in an attempt to be realistic or something. oh...there are probably tons of spoilers in the next two paragraphs:

david acevada (benito martinez), the shield
i'm just starting to watch the 4th season (out of 7) of the shield, which is the season in which hispanic police captain david acevada makes the transfer to city councilman. he's had one of the show's more interesting character arcs thus far, as in the previous season, he was in a limbo period between the primaries & the election. it's a time where he's still the police captain but he's a few months away from running unopposed for city councilman in the election...& in the 3rd episode of the season, two thugs hold him at gunpoint & force him to give one of the thugs head. it's rare to see a major male character on tv who is raped during his adult life. benito martinez's acting is damn good, especially when he is still the only one who knows about what's happened to him & he is cycling through hundreds of emotions throughout the season...anyway, that dude speaks spanish sometimes...los angeleso spanish.

miguel prado (jimmy smits), dexter
jimmy smits also speaks spanish & this season, he's joined the cast of dexter playing hispanic assistant d.a. miguel prado. in the opening episode, dexter accidentally kills miguel's brother, who happens to be at the house of a drug dealer/murderer dexter is hunting named freebo. freebo flees the scene, leaving miguel with the impression that freebo is the one who killed his brother, as miguel has no clue that dexter was even involved. as the season has progressed, miguel has become dexter's first real friend & they've bonded & even worked together to kill someone who has escaped justice (as is dexter's m.o.). i've never watched l.a. law or nypd blue or the west wing so i can't comment on jimmy smits' acting style, but in dexter, he's a commanding presence. he's smooth & persuasive & apologetic, but he can kick your ass & he just might...anyway, the show is set in miami, so he totally speaks spanish sometimes...cubano spanish.

#43 - hispanic attack.

snack: planters roasted salted pepitas
drink: negra modelo

so i got a bag of these planters roasted salted pepitas at a gas station back in new hampshire over the holiday because i read the front real quick & thought they sounded exotic enough, but it turns out that pepitas are basically squash or pumpkin seeds. in this case, it's a mix of pumpkin seeds & sunflower seeds. roasted pumpkin & sunflower seeds. with salt. if there was a single word that allowed me to combine a sarcastic "mmm" with a long, drawn out yawn, i would use it here.

the seeds aren't all bad, i suppose. i didn't have to actually do any carving or roasting. a machine who took the job of a hispanic worker who took the job of a black worker who took the job of a white worker at some ubiquitous planters/kraft/philip morris/altria plant took care of that for me. plus, a few sources on the internet tell me that pumpkin seeds are good for urinary flow & as mentioned in my previous post, i love things that are good for the ol' tract.

...like beer. beer really gets the tract flowing. take negra modelo, for instance. if you were to believe all the off-based generalizations about the effects of mexican beers, you would think that if you wanted to drink a negra modelo, you'd need a lime wedge & the patience to be running to the bathroom for the remainder of the evening. not so. i drank a negra modelo & passed the hell out still wearing my jeans. take that evil stereotypes.

UPDATE: bill richardson has been named secretary of commerce. go hispanics.

#38 - baby talk.

this is what i've observed about the world: society deems you both cool & not cool if you have a baby...it's all in the circumstances behind your baby having...

teenager with baby ≠ cool.
fundamentalist white couple in kansas with adopted african baby = cool.
celebrity with adopted african baby = cool.
celebrity smoking cigarette with baby ≠ cool.
gay couple with baby ≠ cool.
foster care system overrun with babies = cool.

i just hit 34 this week & my siblings & i have yet to produce a baby for my parents. for one of us in particular, this is a good thing since he's 16. for myself & the other two, we're in that prime 25-35 baby-making canal. here & there, a few of my friends are starting to get babies of their own. i'm pretty sure at least one of my high school friends has a baby who is old enough to have a myspace page. another friend apparently has twins. another who lives in the u.k. just had a daughter. i don't even know how that works as far as citizenships go, but i have a feeling something un-american might be afoot.

one of these days, i'm going to get around to the baby-having. obviously, there are clear & present obstacles to that currently happening, namely the lack of a baby-making partner, which is something i'd like to have for this particular adventure. ladies? who wants to make a baby with shawn at some point in the next year or two? eh? it'll likely be smart and/or cute. all i'm saying is...think about it...or pass the word on to one of your baby-wanting friends or co-workers. hotties and/or really smart girls only please.

#38 - baby talk.

snack: planters honey bbq kettle roasted peanuts
drink: flying dog snake dog i.p.a.

like me, my first baby will love all things planters. this is for certain...a love for planters will be in his and/or her blood & by this i mean that most planters snacks are too tiny for babies to eat without choking, so my first baby will have planters products delivered intravenously...unless planters starts making baby food, in which case, we will get to forgo all the needles.

for starters, baby will get planters honey bbq kettle roasted peanuts. these things are extra crunchy, which baby won't actually get to appreciate due to the intravenous delivery. according to the packaging, "the nut experts at planters have carefully roasted each small batch to bring out its crunch." ha! nut experts!...i'm going to start using that. somebody's talking too loud on their cell phone..."hey buddy, wanna stop being such a nut expert & bring down the volume please? you're disturbing me & my friends. thanks."

anyway, baby will instead get to focus its appreciation on the blood rush that this snack offers, with its unsettlingly unbalanced combination of salty bbq & sweet honey.

& like me, baby will also get a flying dog snake dog i.p.a. to go with his/her intravenous peanuts & in doing so, baby will get to appreciate cartooning. babies love cartoons & the ones on the flying dog labels are by ralph steadman, who illustrated many of hunter s thompson's works. that means baby also gets to learn about art history & the counterculture.

...which means my baby will be WAY COOLER than your baby. suck on that, breeders.