WHY ARE YOU STILL ON THE SHOW?!?!?!?!

Seriously, every week the judges complain about how Lisa doesn’t season her food properly. In my eyes that’s a cardinal sin and shows that she just has no tastebuds… because all of her “confessionals” are her talking about how her “flavors are there.” There’s also tons of clips of her tasting stuff and pondering whether it needs more salt or sweet or whatever. I just want to grab and twist her neck fat every time she makes a negative comment and acts overconfident in the ability she doesn’t have compared to the other chefs. Read More!

So this last weekend was a big movie weekend for me. Not only did I see Sex and the City but I also saw a superior but still awful movie called The Strangers. I went in with fairly high hopes for a trashy, fun horror movie, but unfortunately its only redeeming factor was that you get to see [SPOILER ALERT, ASSHOLES!!!] Liv Tyler get gutted like a fish. Reasons why the movie failed:

• Scott Speedman does not get naked.
• The killers were totally unexplained. While I realize that was the point that was supposed to make them scary, they would be WAY scarier if they were made out to be crazed meth addicts. I mean… really if you’re out on a killing spree at 5am I have a feeling you had a date with Tina that night, and the faces of meth are terrifying (with the exception of the one lady who just turns into Helena Bonham Carter from Harry Potter). Basically I never understood why they had what seemed to be super powers and secret access to any room in the house.
• Overuse of the gimmick where the killer lurks in the background of the mise en scene unbeknownst to the protagonist on screen.
• The masks the killers wore that concealed their identities the entire movie just weren’s scary.

And on that note, I had some ideas for some masks the killers could wear that would definately make the movie 3.7 times more terrifying (as confirmed by my anecdotal market research of friends via Gchat). Read More!

Guess what? I did you all a huge favor. I made some crappy clips of the movie on my tiny hand held videocam, so now you NEVER have to see the movie because you can see all the pivotal scenes and female squealing you want right here on the interwebs. I broke this down into the three key scenes anyone might see this horrible endorsement of both consumerism and the general enslavement of the female population.

#1 Carrie changes into some outfits.

#2 The pivotal scene where Big leaves Carrie at the altar.

#3 And of course, Charlotte pooping herself.

Now that I’ve made your life complete you can go ahead and hang yourself with your chunky belt you got at Anthopologie because you couldn’t afford Marc Jacobs. That is unless YouTube has taken these down by the time you read this… let’s see how long this lasts.

Last week I cashed in all my Marlboro Camel dollars and scored a trip with reporters aboard Hillary Clinton’s airplane. And I have to say, I may be an Obama supporter but the junior Senator from New York has certainly become more of person whom I can relate to, namely, she marries her DRUNK with the EEMS. That said, what follows is a transcript of of my trip:

Hillary: Weeeeeeeee! *hick* I’m so glad we’re besties. You win. I win. This’s been one, weeeeeee—wait, wheres my cellphone? Wow. It’s been one helluva primary, right, Health Care? Read More!

In honor of the soon-to-be-released Sex in the City movie and this seemingly food themed week at GMSC, I decided to make myself some Balls for lunch. Here are just a few of the reasons:

• Things that come in pairs! (Carrie and Big? Meant to be!)
• Steve only has one (Salut!)
• Because I’m 100% sure Josh & Josh and their SATC obsessions have no clue how to cook Balls for lunch, let alone eat balls, although maybe I take that back.
• Regardless, something about that movie, a gentle May spring breeze, and GMSC has inspired me to feast upon a pair of balls. Look!

Now, allow me to teach you! Read More!

Know what I once liked but have grown to hate? Motherfucking Sex and the City.

I have a plan for the movie coming out this weekend. Basically I am going to sneak a flask into the theater, heckle the movie, and basically make the movie an unpleasant experience for it’s droves of fans that just can’t seem to see that Sex and the City is slowly destroying everything that makes New York actually great with it’s nuclear fire breath and laser eyes.

Gabe Liedman and I had a little chat the other day and I think we have this down. Read More!

Remember the recipe I posted for a successful brunch, a couple entries down?

This is what it looks like when you add homemade homefries and a salad:

Isn’t it amazing to have actual original pictures and NOT rely on Google image search to illustrate one’s writing?

And yes, that is wild cold smoked salmon. Where can you get wild cold smoked salmon, you might ask? I splurged in this instance and went to Russ & Daughters but the thrifty and early to rise can find a wholesale store for individuals consumers at ACME Smoked Fish Co. in Greenpoint every Friday morning from 8am to noon for walk-ins. Wild Alaskan salmon is one of the few sources of sustainable wild fishing in the world and is a wonderful thing to support.

After six plates like this had been consumed, there was a lot of hollandaise left over, so I sat in the corner of my backyard and shovelled it into my face with my hands, like a bear with a pot of honey. Good times.

Guys! There’s a new episode of Meat Picnic. In this one, hear the sad tale of an angry bucket who gets used by everyone in town.

I have a friend. We’ll call him Marlie Cholsky to prtect his identity. If you’re like Harriet The Spy and want to know who this is, you can figure it out as he sometimes comments on this blog.

Well Marlie Cholsky had a european friend named Marcello (pronounced Mar-chell-o, because he’s euro, duh). Well, Cholsky and his girl friends were wondering if Marcello was gay or just European. It’s hard to tell. He sometimes talked about girls, and sometimes he talked about guys, and basically was a whole mess of sexual confusion to us Americans who need boundaries and labels in order to get our flirt on. One day, Cholsky receives a message, “I was wondering if you and your friends would like to go to brrrrrrrrrrunch?”

This sealed the deal. Marcello obviously loved men. Because only a homo would would invite a group of friends to brunch in advance and role all the r’s in the word with such ease and familiarity.

And in honor of memorial day, I thought I’d share an easy recipe for eggs benedict so that you can have all your faggy friends over or just make something for that special trick you woke up with. Read More!

I’ve finally managed to upload a clip on teh interwebs, so you can see for yourself (quick! before it gets deleted).

Oh, probably NSFW. Unless you work for, say, a penitentiary.

Years ago when I went to NYU for film (sssshhhhhh! Now I just tell everyone that I went to Sarah Lawrence before my FTM operation), I made a short film for an experimental video class. It featured some graphic, albeit simulated, unprotected gay sex. I was anticipating some less-than-enthused reactions from my peers (overwhelmingly straight and surprisingly conservative in some respects), but expecting support from my teacher. She was well-regarded amongst students, partly because she was continuing to direct films (she came out with a very critically lauded little film in 2006) and because she didn’t seem to be on auto-pilot like so many of the NYU professors. It was a known fact that she was good friends with some of those who helped establish New Queer Cinema, like Todd Haynes. She even told me she had worked on gay porn before.

So if I expected anyone to support my little movie, it was her. Read More!