Ghetto Burger

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WARNING: gentle .gov's and vegetarians - this blog is
a graphic re-creation of a cheese burger experience. If
you do not eat meat, cheese, bacon, or any combination
there of, please read this post at your own risk:
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Every so often you experience something so big, so different, so stunning, that it changes the way you look at cheese burgers forever. Yesterday, I had one of those experiences. Yesterday, I met Ms. Ann.

To preface this story, we have been hearing rumors about Ms. Ann and her burgers since March when The Wall Street Journal published this article on the best burgers in America. Ms. Ann's Ghetto Burger topped the list. It was Y2K's birthday and we wanted an experience. We took the afternoon off work and called up a couple of our most adventurous friends. Thus our journey began...

Ms. Ann is a grumpy old grandmother. She owns and runs Ann's Snack Bar, a dive located on a run-down street just East of Atlanta. The snack bar has been open for decades. It consists of 8 stools on one side of a counter and Ms. Ann on the other. Only 8 people at a time are allowed into the restaurant, including people who have to-go orders. Ms. Ann does not start cooking your meal until you order. The burgers are slow cooked, the bacon is deep fried, the buns are toasted, and the tomatoes are sliced right before your eyes. The entire process takes about 30 minutes. The burgers are massive and take approximately 15 minutes to eat.

We arrived at 1:15 and there were 15 people in front of us. We were told that the people inside had been in there for about 20 minutes. That meant a total estimated wait time of one hour and 55 minutes. So we waited.

The crowd outside the snack bar was amazing. There was a guy who said he played for the Colts and for the Falcons and couldn't stop talking about how bad African American athletes had it. "When Vick gets a felony," he explained, "little Johnnie's parents throw away his jersey. But when Rodriguez gets in trouble, it's a whole 'nother story." There was a couple from Buckhead with fancy watches and designer sun-glasses who had obviously heard about Ms. Ann from the same source as us. My favorites, however, were the locals that have been coming to experience Ms. Ann long before the Wall Street Journal article. They kept us entertained with rich stories of the restaurant. They laughed about how strict Ms. Ann was and the rules that you needed to follow within her establishment. She has thrown people out of the restaurant for small offences such as "cussin'", for talking on their cell phone, and for being indecisive. They reminisced about the good old days and laughed about the variety of people that are coming to the restaurant now, including the rich Buckhead couple.

Two hours later, a couple of seats opened up and we walked into the restaurant. We quietly took our seats and waited for Ms. Ann to take our order. We each ordered a Hood Burger which is a Ghetto Burger (double bacon chili cheese) topped with a huge scoop of coleslaw. Ms. Ann liked us and gave us french fries and sweet tea to consume while we were waiting. She gives everyone french fries and sweet tea to consume while they are waiting, but she smiled at us, which is how I know that she liked us. This is what Ms. Ann looks like:



It was very calm inside the restaurant. Ms. Ann does not tolerate loud speakers, and she moves slowly and deliberately through her kitchen. It is as if yours is the only burger that she is making for the afternoon. After 30 minutes of great smells and sights, were were served this:



The 2 pounds of seasoned meat was littered with grilled onions. The crispy deep fried bacon added a nice crunch and the creamy coleslaw was the perfect contrast to the spicy chili. Very few people can finish this beast of a burger, and only myself and Y2K (the other Rochesterian in the group) were up for the task. Rochester is #1. Then Y2K bet me $50 to finish Michigan's burger, which I made look easy.

Here is my secret - I take a big bite and then sip sweat tea. As I chew, the tea helps turn the burger and bun into a smooth mush. The mush flows easily down my throat and quickly through my stomach. Once it has made it's way through, my stomach is ready for the next big bite. Also, the faster you can stuff the food into your mouth the better - it takes your body a little bit of time to tell your brain that you are full.

Almost 24 hours since my last bite, I can still smell, taste, and feel the burger. It was everything I have ever dreamt of in a burger and some things that I have never dreamt possible. Today I feel slightly dizzy and nausious, and I don't expect my body to be back to normal for another day or two. But I don't regret anything. This was the best overall burger experience of my entire life.

I leave you with this final image of pure heaven on a bun:

Free Lunch Friday Farts

It has been a while since I've had a free lunch friday fart to report. That's not because we here at weddingfarts don't want to keep you informed, gentle .gov, it's just that salmon doesn't make the cut (as you know, we have very high standards around here).

But today was different.

The menu: cornbread, salad with two types of tomatoes, mac & cheese, coleslaw, barbequed chicken, medium rare tenderloin, delicious brownies, watermelon, and pineapple.

As you might imagine, the lawyers were thrilled. Plates were piled high and there were astonished smiles all around. We all said: while the surprise was nice, the whole week would've been better if we known it was going to end in delicious free lunch.

And the downside: now that we know what lunch is capable of, the next time we are served salmon will be so disappointing.

waterfarts?

Yesterday I was on a plane with fiancee. We were coming back from Chicago. We were really thirsty, so fiancee asked the friendly flight attendant for some water. The flight attendant brought us something that completely confounded me. She brought us 2 cans of water. I didn't know what to do with it. I felt like a child with a confusing toy. A really confusing toy. I'd never seen it before.

I had a lot of questions, but first I needed to take a picture of the can of water with my computer. Mac bitches.

I read the whole can. It didn't say anything about anti-rust. The nutrititional information was all zero's.

I cracked open my can of water and took a sip. Much like the potato leak soup that looked like applesauce but didn't taste like applesauce the can of water confused the shit out of me. I think my brain is wired to expect that when I lift a frosty can it will be a satisfying and refreshing Diet Coke. But it was just water. Fucking water! I am still really confused by the whole experience.

I wonder what the organic bastards think about cans of water?

Oh, and the picture is backwards. It's practice your backwards reading day!

God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut

From Slaughterhouse Five:

You see, in Tralfamadore, where I presently dwell, life has no beginning, no middle and no end. For example, many years ago... a certain man promised to have me killed. He's an old man now, living not far from here. He's read all of the publicity associated with my appearance. He's insane, and tonight he'll keep his promise. If you protest, if you think that death is a terrible thing, then you have not understood what I have said. You see, it's time for you to go home... to your wives and children. It's time for me to be dead for a little while... and then live again.

(Squeeker on quote: TNR).

Our Beloved and Me

Our Beloved will actually have a game in DC next December. By then, our sleeper draft pick running back will have broken several records, and probably an ankle, and a probably a rib.

Update: I didn't read the schedule closely enough. (Have I mentioned that I'm a lawyer? I'm a lawyer.) The Bills play the Dolphins on Monday Night Football. All of football loving America will tune in to see Skeletor battle Bum, Son of Bum, former fat coach of our beloved.

New Chicken Wing Eating Method

April 11th, 2007

Over the weekend, a new method to eat a chicken wing flat was unveiled at a neighborhood bar in Decatur, GA. Several patrons were on hand to witness the historic event including chicken wing enthusiast Man Boobs.

"I have never seen anything like this!" declared Man Boobs as he watched the chicken slide off the bone into his friend's mouth. A long-time proponent of chicken wing flats, Man Boobs had created his own 'one-bite' method several years ago. However, with a little bit of practice, this new technique provides a cleaner, more satisfying flat-eating experience.

The first step involves locating the smaller bone in the flat. The bone will be slightly exposed on the skinny end of the wing. Grip the bone and rotate gently. If done correctly, the bone will detach from the chicken tissue and you can then slide the bone completely out of the flat. The hard part is over. Using the remaining bone, put the entire wing in your mouth, bite down, and pull. With the bones fully extracted, chew the meat.

"We have just witnessed a life changing event," said Man Boobs soon after the demonstration, "Flats will never be looked at or eaten the same."

Back Bitches

I'm in Chicago.  I was in Texas.  Here's what I ate:  15 varieties of wedding cake.  BBQ twice.  Tex Mex.  Queso.  All you can eat Brazillian BBQ. 

In the meantime, I won my bracket, I watched Entourage, I saw Shooter - Good, and I ate at a crappy organic place in LA which was so crappy it's unreal.  I ordered the line caught ahi Tuna and the organic bastards gave me a quarter of a half of a half of a filet.  Sometimes organic bastards are very stingy with their line caught tuna.  At the same place I had potato leak soup made by organic bastards and it looked so much like Applesauce that everytime you ate it you expected to taste applesauce.  Organic bastards.

Sopranofarts

It's Sopranos season again. I watched last night's episode on Horse's big HDTV-- this was technology that didn't exist when Man Boobs and I first stumbled on the Soprano videos in college. I was late getting to Horse's apartment (the Canadian beat me there), so Horse paused the broadcast to wait for me. Tivo living. This also didn't exist.

When it began, we all sat and reminisced about where we were for the last quasi-season. I was living in New Haven, pretty much stuffed with pizza all of the time. (There it's a snack and a meal and a way of life). The last time I had watched Sopranos before that was in law school, when I'd interrupt my work on Sunday nights to drive across the river to Brookline to watch it with friends. Not much has changed in this regard: I had plenty of work to interrupt last night. Before that was in Queens, which was unnerving because it made you think twice about the guys who sat in the back of the pizza and pastry shops after they had close.

But the show? It was good, and fun to watch in High Def, but I don't really care anymore. They're all old and bored with themselves, and I'm old and bored with myself. I think everyone will be just fine when it ends. However, there was one very important highlight that made the episode worthwhile.

My prediction: Tony drowns, possibly by accident. You heard it here first.

Passover Haiku Lunchfarts

Blackened salmon salad
Ceasar dressing splash on shirt
Enough with Pesach.

Rehab Plan = More Video Games

Gilbert, I knew what you'd be up to before you even had to say anything. See?

The offer still stands.

Ode to Blanktop Fart

I am a technology consultant. I combine state-of-the-art software and hardware solutions to solve complex business problems. I have installed ERP systems across the continent. I have created software to track the profitability of billion dollar companies. I have increased machine efficiencies, integrated disparate HR systems, and revolutionized time and expense tracking for fortune 500 companies. However, for the past two weeks I have been relegated to IT support. This consists of answering a phone and watching cases pop onto my screen. The most common issues in order of prevalence are:

1) I forgot my password.
2) I cannot log into XXXXX.
3) XXXXX is broken. (no additional details)
4) My name/manager/email/phone number/department is incorrect (I can not actually fix these tickets, so I forward and email to HR who takes a week to complete while I deal with angry users).

I am attempting to approach my new responsibilities with a positive attitude. I get to meet a lot of my end users, see what pain points exist at my client, and take a break from tight deadlines and status reports. However, this morning I had a help request that sent me over the edge. As a dedication to Blanktop, I decided to share this experience with you:

Me: Hello, this is Man Boobs.
User: I have not been able to login to ApplicationX for three weeks!! This is ridiculous!!!
Me: I can help you with that, but I need you to create a helpdesk ticket first. We can not edit a user's settings without a ticket. I can stay on the line while you create the ticket and then we can proceed.
User: I have already created tickets. Apparently I do not email back fast enough so they get closed!
Me: OK, I can look up your old tickets and re-open one of them. Can I please have your name?
User: John.
Me: I need your last name to look up the ticket.
User: It's John Smith.
Me: OK - here's a ticket for this problem. It looks like the ticket was open for 10 days without a response so someone closed it. Have you followed our instructions for how to troubleshoot this issue?
User: Yes! I've done everything and I still can not log in!!!!
Me: OK, where do you sit? I can come over and take a look.
User: 6th floor.
Me: North tower or South tower?
User: Ummm...South.
Me: What Street? (The building is huge and each aisle of cubicles has a sign that says a street number so that you have a chance to find who you are looking for).
User: I don't know!
Me: Can you please go see. It will take me forever to find you without knowing your street.
User: Look, just get off the elevator, take a left, walk around the hall, and I'm the second cube.
Me: OK, I will try to find you. (I should have made him get up and walk ten feet to see what street he was on, but all I wanted to do was get off the phone and crawl up into a ball under my desk).

So I took the elevator to the 6th floor, took a left, and just as I suspected I did not see the user's name on the second row of cubicles. It took me about 15 minutes of walking around and asking anyone who looked up at me for help before I was able to find the user. Once I got on his computer, I quickly ascertained that he had not changed his settings per our instructions. After about 30 seconds he was up and running. I believe the only word he said to me was when the screen came up was "Finally."

Was That Bet With Me?

Dice-K's numbers from today:

7.0

6

1

1

1

10

0

0

0

0.0

1.00

.222

1.29

I wasn't going to bring him up. I think the hype is a very much out of hand-- some articles were already discussing the Hall of Fame before he threw his first MLB pitch. But if you insist. The 7.0 is for innings pitched, as in "seven is more than five." That 10 is for strikeouts, as in "more than all of the Yankees pitchers combined so far."*

Maybe you were thinking about this guy?

*Ok, so the Yankees have only played one game so far. But still. That's fun to say.

Farting Contest Farts

I interrupt absolutely everything to bring you important, breaking (ha) news:

Tiger Woods has farting contests with other people.

Let that one sink in.

It sounds like a great game, too (although probably not nearly as much fun as "game"): you shake hands, and the first one to fart wins.

Wow.

And of course, Tiger always wins.

But I think I could beat him.

Hideki Irabu Take 2?

Lots of hoopla surrounding Dice-K's big opening day in KC today. Ten bucks he gets pulled during or before the 5th inning...

Do You Know Where I Am?

Gilbert Arenas is out for 2-3 months with a knee. The Wizards' playoff run is basically over before it even began. In other news, though, Gilbert is probably going to be on his couch for a while, playing video games. Would you like a Halo partner, Gilbert? I can come anytime.

It Will Never Happen Again

Dearest Weddingfarters,

I know that the past few days have been difficult for everyone. On Saturday, I write, with promise of news of delicious food, and then there is nothing-- silence!-- until Wednesday. Believe me, I didn't want it to be this way.

I can explain. First, I've been busy with work. Have I mentioned I'm a lawyer? I'm a lawyer. Second, I've been in Rochester for a few days to make gelfite fish, drink wine, and shop for carpets. Third, my 7:00 flight this morning was delayed for two hours when I was already on the plane. That's not really a reason for not having written before. I share it so you know why I hate everyone at this particular moment.

But on to what you really want to know about. Food on Saturday. All I can say is, sailor jacket had barbeque in Texas on Saturday, and multiple wedding cakes, but we both agreed that we tied in eating that day 1-0. That's how good a day of Rochester eating I had.

First, Mom of weddingfarts and I made gefilte fish. Homemade gefilte fish is better, but it makes your house smell like a crab shack.

Then, we went to the lake for the good steak sandwich. The good steak sandwich from the LDR charpit, which wasn't actually as good as it should have been on Saturday, is a Rochester institution. It doesn't have the flash and the fame of the garbage plate, but it's been around a long time. It's almost so much a part of the place, that you don't talk about it. Someone says, "Let's go to the lake," and then you're sitting in a boot eating a steak sandwich. When I'm at the Charpit, I'm sad for the people who move to Rochester from somewhere else and, through no fault of their own, never get there because they don't know what "let's go to the lake" means.* It's a half inch thick steak, grilled on a griddle that has rarely been cleaned, smothered with onions on a strong enough roll. But that's not the important part. The important part is the meaty hot sauce-- another little-discussed Rochester institution. It adds heat and more meat to steak, ground round sandwiches, and Zwiegle dogs. It was a long time before I realized that it is something you don't find elsewhere.

Traditionally, the steak sandwich meal begins with a starter course of sweet pickles in small paper cups, and it is followed by Abbott's frozen chocolate almond custard-- the kind with the salty almonds. Today, however, we weren't having dinner, and it was kind of cold outside, so, instead of custard, we just lamented the folly of the ferry.

This may have been a key decision, in retrospect, as we returned home to do some work and then watch the basketball games. Midway through the Georgetown game, it became time to contemplate dinner. It being the mom of weddingfart's birthday, we let her decide where to order from (yes, we're pathetic. no, it's ok.). She suggested-- she actually suggested!-- Country Sweet wings. It was exactly the thing that had been on my mind, but it just seemed too fantastical to suggest it. The good steak sandwich and country sweet wings in the same day! Has it ever been attempted before? We ordered up a batch of 30 wings mixed and a bunch of mac, and the dad of weddingfarts and I drove to pick it up on Monroe Ave. in the waning moments of Georgetown's season.

As if this wasn't good enough, we stopped at a convenience store and picked up a six pack of a favorite beer: Ithaca Nut Brown.

The wings were delicious. They defy description. They are sweet and hot and tangy and gloppy and crunchy. They are so many things that I normally wouldn't like, and would abhor in a Buffalo wing, but it all comes together in harmonious fashion in country sweetness. They are Rochester soul food. No, they are the soul of Rochester.**

Now, I know, at this point, someone of you are drooling on the important .gov papers on your desk. And some of you are hungry. And some of you just ate a lot of matzah, and are feeling a little bit queasy. But I know that all of you wish you were there. Especially man boobs. Next year in Rochester, weddingfarters, next year in Rochester.




*I particularly feel for those who move to Rochester to follow a girlfriend after college but leave before a friend could come back to town to show him the way. I'm sorry, sailor jacket, I'm sorry.

**Besides Wegmans, of course.

April Farts Day

I ran into this amazing April Fool's Day website:

http://www.rjlsoftware.com/software/entertainment/

If a co-worker leaves his computer on and walks away, install clippy. He looks just like the Microsoft Office paperclip helper only he is much cooler. He says great things like, "I noticed you have Internet Explorer installed on your system. You can use that to find things on the Internet" and "I see that you have been using your mouse" and "Your computer seems to be turned on."

Other good ones to check out are:
-Random Burper: Turns your volume on loud and plays burp sounds at random intervals. Listen closely and you might even hear a wedding fart.
-Mouse Droppings: Your mouse drops small turds in its path
-Dirty Mouse: Simulates a dirty ball in your mouse. This is a good one for someone you really want to frustrate.

HAPPY [late] APRIL FOOL'S DAY!!!!

Developing . . .

Weddingfarts is on location in the hometown.

Lunch was a steak sandwich at the lake with the good meaty hot sauce.

Dinner will be country sweet wings. The real deal.

And Georgetown . . . that's too bad.

Our Beloved and Michael Turner

Interest! Interest!

Got Milk farts?

Last night I was enjoying a large glass of ice cold 1% milk and I had a flashback to a conversation that wedding farts and I had several months back. According to him, drinking milk for the sake of refreshment is extremely odd. In fact, according to wedding farts, I am the only one he has ever known to drink milk straight up. No cookies, no brownies, no cereal, no PB&J, not chocolate syrup - just the thick, cool, refreshing liquid secreted out of a cow teat. I do prefer when it has been pasteurized at a dairy plant and dumped into plastic bottles. Pasteurizing milk is a cool process if you have never seen it - lots of steam and puddles of milk all over the place. The workers often sport rubber overalls and rubber boots. If you ever go, do NOT breathe through your nose - worst smell ever.

Interesting side note: numerous taste tests have shown that milk tastes best when stored in a dark container. Black is the best, but not too appealing to the consumer. Yellow is a close second, and is used by Mayfield Dairies. You may need to pay a small premium, but totally worth it. NEVER buy milk in a clear PET bottle - always go for the HDPE.

So, we at wedding farts need to know...

Got Milk?
	I drink it by the gallon - chug-a-lug
	If there is nothing else to drink, it is ok to drink milk
	I only drink milk with dessert, foods w/ peanut butter, or cerial
	Soy milk only please - poor cows
	Chocolate milk is a meal in itself
	Lactose Intolerant
	I hate the taste of milk
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Ode to Afternoon Coffee

Oh, afternoon coffee
You promise so much:
A moment of awakeness,
A possibility of productiveness,
A taste of morning,
when so much more
should have been done.
Afternoon coffee,
you are a wink of a blip of a spark of a high
followed by a long, low crash
and, sometimes, a sleepless night.
Afternoon coffee,
if only you came with an apple fritter,
I think we'd get along a lot better.

Old Man Patch #2

Here's more proof:

In preparation for vacation, I made a list of things that I have to do. On that list are thing like go to the bank and packing. I am inching closer.

I also laid out all of the chargers that I have to bring for my various electronics. Right now the total is 4. Computer, ipod, camera, phone. I'm starting to think that companies should standardize and make the same charger because this is ridiculous.

Almost Vacation

.gov's, friends, people who think I need a hooker.  I'm going away for a few days.  Austin, Texas and then Chicago.  I'm going to eat a lot.  I'll keep you all in the know.  Don't worry. 

Yours forever,

Sailorjacket

Old Man Patch, East Coast Style

I wore a navy camel hair blazer to work this morning. What covered my legs, you ask? Gray slacks, of course.

Old Man Patch

Gracious readers, .gov's, friends... I'm closer to obtaining my old man patch than I ever thought I would be.

What's an old man patch? That's a great question. An old man patch is like a Boy Scout patch. You conquer certain tasks and get closer to your patch.

In the last two days I've done two things that draw me nearer to my old man patch.

1. I got really excited about having an artichoke with dinner. Fiancee made it. She also made a soy sauce/fat free mayonaise dipping sauce. I think it was the act of guilt free dipping that got me so excited. There was a time when I would dip my chicken wings in blue cheese dressing and feel guilt free. Now? It's special occasions only. French Fries dipped in Ketchup/Ranch/Blue Cheese? I don't even remember the last time. Chicken McNuggets?

Artichokes are really good. You can dip them. Do they deserve the same unfettered excitement that a good egg roll in duck sauce gets? No... unless you're that much closer to your old man badge.

Follow my math... artichoke + guilt free dipping - excitement = 1 step closer to old man patch.

2. I get home from work. I get into my "comfies (as fiancee calls them)." How are my comfies a prelude to an old man patch? It's not the comfies per se. It's the foot wear. See, I leave my dark socks on. Shirt, shorts, old man dark socks. I'm getting closer and closer people.

Old man patch updates will happen sporadically and are even more painful to write about than they are to think about. We haven't even touched on the fact that I sometimes wake up early to go to the gym, or the fact that before I wake up to go to the gym I wake up to pee, or that I really do believe that breakfast could be the most important meal of the day.

Well Done Wedding Farts

Japanese bacon? Believe it or not, wedding fart's meal may actually have been authentic. According to this, Japan's pork consumption ranks 12th in the world, beating out South American pork lovers such as Mexico and Brazil. Very interesting discovery, wedding farts.

Also, watch out world, Israel is in the race...

Lunchfarts: So There

Inspired by, and jealous of, the lunch enjoyed today by man boobs, I decided to forgo the chicken salad sandwich I had planned for myself, and splurge on the sushi special at the place next door to the chicken salad sandwich place instead. It's $10, but it's a great deal: a california roll AND 5 pieces of nigiri AND three pieces of sashimi AND sweet potato salad AND-- this is unbelievable, and I don't think it's even Japanese but what do I know-- three three-inch pieces of asparagus tops wrapped in bacon. Bacon. Bacon. Yup. Not to mention miso soup as well.

So there.

And none of it, I'm happy to say, landed on my pants.

You know your lunch was good when...

You know your lunch was good when you tell Wedding Farts what you ate and he replies, "Wow! How'd you do that?"

The following lunch from Pappadeaux invoked that exact response:

A pound of boiled crawfish with potatoes & corn (on special for $2.95)
A shrimp and lobster salad (no special, but so worth it)
2 glasses of Coke

Semi-healthy, delicious, refreshing...and I made Wedding Farts extremely jealous. It was a very good lunch. A very good lunch indeed.

A little bit angry about McGahee

A Buffalo paper goes off:

You even started talking about Buffalo’s women. I suppose we’ll have to wait for nine months or so to see if you actually met any.

BBQ Farts

BBQ in the South is different from BBQ in the North. When you eat BBQ in the South, it does not necessarily mean that you smother meat with a tomato base or vinegar sauce. Instead, it refers to the method in which the meat is prepared. Any time a chunk of pig or cow is put on a grill and slow cooked, you're having a BBQ.

Last night I cooked BBQ for my Atlanta crew. Two things that I learned:

#1 - Country Sweet pork ribs tasted as good the 100th time I ate them as they did the first time the delicious sauce touched my lips

#2 - After years of research, beta testing, market studies, and about half a dozen grills , I think that I have finally perfected my burger recipe.

RIBS: Take spareribs and rub on garlic powder and Monterey Steak Seasoning. Cover with tin foil and Cook in oven at 200 degrees for 5 hours. Turn your grill on as low as possible. Place the spareribs in the grill and close the lid. As soon as the ribs begin to brown, start spreading on the Country Sweet sauce. Cook the ribs for about 45 minutes in this fashion, turning ribs often and basting with each turn.

BURGERS: fresh ingredients are key in this burger. First, you need to get ground sirloin or ground round - none of that ground chuck crap. Then, dice the following ingredients and add to meat: a ton of freshly pressed garlic, white onions, and a jalapeno pepper. Pour a generous amount of Veri Veri Teriyaki into the bowl. Sprinkle garlic powder and bread crumbs into the mixture. With your bare hands, mix the ingredients thoroughly into the meat. If your hands are not as salty as mine, you may want to add a pinch of kosher salt as well. Then grill the burgers on Medium low heat until cooked to your preference. If you can cook the burgers on the same grill as you're cooking ribs, all the better. Top with Colby jack cheese. Serve on potato buns with lettuce, tomato, red onion, avocado, ketchup, and mustard.

In your face Burger King.

The best show on TV

As Weddingfarts media liason it behooves me to tell you about the show Friday Night Lights. First of all, it's the only show that Fiancee and I go out of our way to watch together. Secondly, it's about High School football. Thirdly, it absolutely smokes anything that Sorkin the Douche has done. Read this article and watch it once. Maybe you'll agree??? Oh, and the part where the guy says that it's a "women's show" is wrong. It's an everyone show.

Craphole Live Star Warts Phantom Menace Blog

Editors note: The Weddingfarts movie and film lab apologize for another Star Wars entry. It was on HBO when the TV was turned on. I already forsee three problems. 1. No Chewie, 2. No Han, 3. No Ewoks. Let the horrible begin. All times are Pacific Standard.

By the way, last night I had Buffalo Chicken Tenders... They were the wrong choice.

9:57am: Qi Gon or whatever just used a Jedi Mind Trick on a robot. Is that possible?

10:01am: Everything looks really fake. All the computer generated garbage is annoying. Jar Jar just stepped in poop. I'm incredibly sorry I'm doing this.

Just look at Jar Jar. I could destroy.

10:04am: Jar Jar just got kicked in the nuts by a little robot. You know as much as Jar Jar is horrible in the last 3 minutes he stepped in poop and got kicked in the nuts by a little robot.

10:08am: Annakin just talked shit to Sebulba. He's a very sophisticated 8 year old. He actually says "careful Sebulba, he's a big time Outlander." What? He's a crossover Japanese import that was recently redesigned? 28mpg on the Highway bitches.

10:12am: Darth Maul, sweet makeup. Douche.

10:12am: Weddingfarts may be getting this.

10:13am: Annakin had a dream that he was a Jedi and then came back to Tattoine and freed all the slaves. Now I get it, they're showing all the Star Wars movies because it's almost Passover and the thematic resemblances between Passover and Star Wars are being exploited to increase the Matzah consumption of HBO's viewing audience. Stay tuned: Next week on Weddingfarts a symposium on uses for Matzah. I'll say it now .gov's if you thought that the Chicken Wing/Chicken Finger debate was intense wait until Weddingfarts, Man Boobs, and I go at it over the best way to prepare Matzah brie and then the best toppings for Matzah brie.

10:15am: Pause to call weddingfarts

10:20am: Annakin's mom calls him Annie. This got me thinking and I realized something. There are not that many "well known Annie's"

10:27am: I just googled Annakin Skywalker. I've been spelling it wrong. Anakin. Further proof that in the Star Wars universe nothing is as it seems. Pod racing scene is starting.

10:28am: An animal just farted in the direction of Jar Jar. Stepped in poop, kicked in the nuts, farted at.

10:32am: I'm pretty sure no mom that I know would let their kid pod race.

10:35am: I remember that when I saw this movie in the theater the highlight was trying to find secret Wookie/Ewok sightings. I should have remembered that when I started this dumbass live blog.

10:39am: Jar Jar says "careful Annie, careful Annie." Meanwhile Anakin's mom just watches and says nothing. She's a non - entity. Sebulba's pod just crashed and he says "fooyoo."

10:43am: I'm pretty sure I don't want to do this anymore, but I made a committment.

10:45am: What I just learned about the actress, Pernilla August, who plays Anakin's mom: "Portrayed Shmi Skywalker (mother of Anakin Skywalker) and Mary of Nazareth (mother of Jesus Christ). Both are women who claim their sons were the product of a virgin birth."

I hate everyone.

Song everyone should listen to: "The Final Comedown" by: Grant Green.

Darth Maul shows up to brawl.

10:54am: Approximately 999 people have visited weddingfarts.blogspot.com. At least 3 of those are not me, weddingfarts, or man boobs.

10:55am: Jedi council meeting; featuring Yoda, Obi-Wan, Qui Gon, and Samuel L. Jackson. Samuel L. has very watery eyes.

10:58am: Crappy intergalactic council meeting with a lot of people there. The only time in the movie we spot wookies or ewoks... I'm scanning the crowd... there's the bad guy from the first Lord of the Rings movie... there's the queen with a dumbfuck helmet on... there's the creepy fish face guy whose lips don't match up with what he's saying... and... and... booya, two wookies.

11:01am: New friend request on facebook.

11:07am: Anakin: "Come on R2."

11:13am: Big ass battle on Jar Jar's planet. Jar Jar is just made a general and he faints. Steps in poop, kicked in nuts, animal farts at him, and faints.

11:17am: There is a box of Thin Mints in the kitchen. Did Fiancee open them is the question.

11:17am: She did not.

11:19am: This battle scene is pretty sweet. Jar Jar "Steady, steady"

11:22am: Darth Maul unveils the double sided light saber. That's an Ikea style innovation.

11:28am: Jar Jar gets racked in the nuts when he falls on a gun turret. Steps in poop, kicked in nuts, animal farts at him, faints, racked in nuts by gun turret.

11:34am: Anakin blows up the stupid bad guy spaceship. All the bad robots are powerless. The Jar Jar's of the world rejoice. Great.

11:35am: Obi-Wan cuts Darth Maul in half.

11:36am: They just said "trade" and "franchise". I immediately checked our beloved's website and was relieved that we still had Lee Evans.

11:41am: The end.

Editors note: Live Blogging is kind of fun, but maybe it should only be done for a half an hour max. Try it sometime.

Gilbert's Cartoon

All Gilbert, all the time. Watch as he draws himself in paint.

The Smart Fuck Life Without Toilet Paper

I'm totally getting this...

The Dumb Fuck Year Without Toilet Paper

Apparently some hipster parents who live on 5th Avenue have decided that it would be a good idea to stop using toilet paper. Can someone tell me how the article ends? I'm too annoyed to read the whole thing.

Why is this week different than all other weeks

Gilbert Arenas usually posts one blog post a week. But this week he post two. Why? Because he's angry at everyone. And so he ranted. And it's fantastic. Gilbert, if you're watching, let's go get steamed shrimp and crabs at the Maine Street Market this weekend.

Horseradish

It makes everything better.  I'm almost 100% positive. 

Chewbacca is above it all, but is he alone???

Editors Note: We here at the Weddingfarts movie lab do not always watch Star Wars. They have been on HBO a lot lately. We'd also watch any Rocky (except 5), All Back to the Futures and all Teen Wolfs if given the opportunity. We're just playing the hand we're dealt folks...

I was sick this morning. Sore throat and all... I sat on the couch and drank tea. Which is weird. Return of the Jedi was on. I think the best moment of that movie is when Chewie teams up with the two ewoks to take over the imperial walker thing. There is a scene where Chewie swings on a rope and makes a Tarzan sound. Usually I hate shit like that, but since it was Chewbacca I didn't.
If it had been Lando I would have hated it. C3P0 - Forget it. Gross fish head guy with wierd fish whiskers - hate. Darth Maul - no chance. Jar Jar - no chance. Luke? Leah?

There are very few that could pull off the Tarzan yell in the midst of a climactic battle on the Forest Moon of Endor. I believe that the two gentlemen on the right are the only two that could do it. They're above it all. The two coolest cats. Granted, not every Star Wars watcher is as cynical, sarcastic, bloated, or gassy as I am.

By the way... how much would you pay for your own Ewok? $200? $300?

That's not the point. I don't think I'm alone here. If 300 .gov's were to be p0lled about the two Star Wars characters that could get away with a Tarzan yell during a climactic battle on the Forest moon of Endor I would say that Han and Chewie would be the runaway winner; with R2 as the dark horse third option. I'm going to leave Yoda completely out of this because I'm still not over the scene where he dies in Jedi. I've seen it a billion times, but for some reason it hit particularly hard today.

Why? Because I have a sore throat. That's why. Thanks weddingfarts. This one is for you and your sore throat giving wampa-ness.

Meet Pull My Finger Fred.

Farts are not just for weddings and for blogs. Farts also sometimes end up in court.

Cupcake Mystery

There is a white box inside the office fridge. Inside the box are chocolate cupcakes with white icing and rainbow sprinkles. On the top of the box are the words, "Cupcakes. Eat me." The words were written in thick black ink, presumably by a sharpie. There is no indication as to the origin of the cupcakes - no bakery name is stamped onto the bottom of the box and the generic block hand writing is indistinguishable.

I am intrigued. After lunch, I will eat a mystery cupcake.

Not Exactly Like This, But You Get the Idea

Some of you may have been confused and shocked by the revelation yesterday that weddingfarts exist. If that is the case, this is for you.

Let's Not Do This

Let's not get into this here. It could only get worse. But a couple of things to point out:
1) You argue that if you are from New York, then you should root for the Yankees. But, of course, the Yankees aren't the only baseball team in New York. They aren't even the only team in New York City. So New Yorker--> Yankees Fan doesn't make any sense. Typical.
2) Rudy Guiliani. What a fuck.
3) It wasn't just any program.

Baseball Balls

Reverse cleavage aside, lets look who we're aligning ourselves with:

Yankee Fans             Counterpart BoSox Fans
Robin Williams            Seth Myers
Nicole Kidman             Doris Kearns Goodwin
Denzel Washington    NO BLACK FANS
Bruce Willis                  Mark Wahlberg
Chris Rock                     Denis Leary
Abboud                          Muszynski
Bill Clinton                   George W Bush

I have never been more proud to be who I am. The other funny thing is that everyone writing on this blog is from New York. They were born in New York. Raised in New York. Met in New York. Lost their virginity in New York. You think that Upstate New York doesn't count? That it's complete different than New York City? Well, not according to this website.

Isn't it about time we accept who we are and where we come from? I know it's hard when your parents sent you to an elite summer camp in the Berkshires where they brainwashed you to be New York bashers instead of sending you to a real New York camp with a real lake where you could get Yankee games on your radio if it was late at night and the wind was blowing just right. Fine, we also had sexual predators at my camp but I'd rather have that than a helicopter during a mass program...

Stupid helicopters.

Baseball Seasonfarts: Will Weddingfarts Hold Together?

Baseball season is almost upon us. I'm excited. It means, among other things, more tasia. After work I'm going to go pick up a tasia mag and learn what I need to about building another stable of mediocre pitchers. And does anyone know if Chris Shelton is still playing ball?

But there is something you should know, gentle .govs. Even though we here at weddingfarts all agree that pizza and wings is a meal that can't be beat, and even though we all like olives, and we never decline a tomato on our sandwich, and we wear blue shirts more often than not, and we get a little too giddy about barbeque and wegman's subs, and even though we all spend a lot time worring about sweating and bloatedness, we don't all root for the same baseball team.

Two of us like the Red Sox.* One of us doesn't.

I'm not going to name names, but I'm sure that this will come up again over the next few months. In the meantime, I ask a question directed at Man Boobs: does the fact that Manny Ramirez owns your grill change your opinion of the man at all?


*And the Cubs.

Chow Mein

When your Chow Mein smells like wet cigarette butts it's usually not a good day.

Sailor Jacket 1, Sports Guy 0

Guess who tried to write about the MJ underwear ad today? Guess who beat him to it? Guess who's post about the underwear ad was crap?

Do you wedding fart?

My friend "Horse" explained to me this weekend that wedding farts had meaning to him before he was turned onto this blog. I liked the definition, so I thought I would share:

Apparently, the term wedding farts was first used is to explain a phenomenon that occurs when you are very nervous about something. Maybe it happens to you right before a job interview, a chemistry test, when you finish writing a blog entry and are about to click on the "Publish" button, or right before you utter the words "I do" to a girl like this. Your stomach turns, your body shivers, and something that smells very interesting gently works it's way through your small intestine, across your colon, fills your rectum....well, you know what happens from here.

A "Wedding Fart" is not a normal fart. Far from it. Maybe it's a shift in the concentration of methane and hydrogen sulfide. Or maybe the accelerated fart has less time to fade before it emerges. For whatever the reason, this type of gas is undeniably unique and potent, thus earning the "Wedding" prefix that we have come to love....

This website that has been entertaining me all day. I guess a lot of people already know about it but I didn't. So here it is.

Getting a crown

.gov's the time has come.  I have to get a crown today.  I'm not that happy about it.  The most important thing to know is that getting a crown takes an hour.  Fuck.

Don't watch me, watch tv farts

We here at weddingfarts would like to wish Agent Zero a hearty mazel tov on the birth of his son. We also would like to say that we desperately want to grab a beer and chicken wings with you. Anytime you're free, Gilbert. Just let us know.

Doctor, Doctor

Please, dear readers, could someone explain why my Adam's Apple is sore? It's been this way for two days now. I went to the gym yesterday. But I mostly just watched TV while I was there.

Lunch was a delicious trio of ceaser salad, chicken salad with currants, and pineapple accentuated with kiwi and grapes. Corner Bakery. I'm not sure why I don't eat this everyday.

The latest place that Gmail sent me

I really only like gmail because of the Talk.  I really only talk to Weddingfarts and Dooder McDooderiferous.

Today, Gmail's ad's sent me here .  I really think that Gmail is down with weddingfarts!

If He's 18, then I'm . . .

I'm pretty sure Greg Oden is old enough to be my father.

Interess

'"I'm a believer that if you have a number of good backs, and you keep them all fresh and keep them all happy, I think you're better off," Jauron said.'

An embarassment

The Hanes advertisement with Kevin Bacon and Michael Jordan is a travesty. It's awkward to watch. The premise is such bad shit. I can imagine the creative meeting.

Sweaty bloated ad guy: "I have the best idea. It's better than fucking smug Jared from Subway. Why don't we have Kevin Bacon shoot a basketball and get blocked by Michael Jordan?"

Sweaty bloated ad guy 2: "Oh wait! Shit! This is awesome. Then Kevin Bacon can shoot his keys into the key dish and Michael Jordan could block that shot! Holy shit!"
editors note: Michael Jordan would not block a set of keys if they were shot. They are metal and they hurt. We here in the Weddingfarts sports technology lab tried it. Keys are metal and pointy.

Sweaty bloated ad lady: "This is genius, what if Kevin Bacon balled up some paper and shot it into the trashcan, but it was blocked by Michael Jordan! But not just any Michael Jordan... Michael Jordan in a wheely office chair!"

Just regular bloated ad guy: "And then, to top it all off, we can have Kevin Bacon look around for Michael Jordan, and when he doesn't think that MJ is around we can have Kevin Bacon try to toss a grape into his mouth. Then MJ comes flying out of nowhere to pluck the grape out of the air."

Original sweaty bloated ad guy: "OF COURSE! Then we can have MJ wink at Kevin Bacon so that Kevin Bacon knows that he can never shoot anything without it getting blocked by MJ."

Hanes Exec: That is fucking money!

Editors Note 2: MJ, you are hurting our feelings.

Merger

So, your telling me that AT&T was bought by Cingular and now Cingular is switching back to AT&T?

I know it's a little after the fact, but that is stupid.  I hate corporate buyouts and rebranding.  Time Warner did it to Comcast here in LA and then I lost the NFL Network.  You should ask Fiancee how many times I called my cable provider to complain.

And now Cingular?  AT&T was a dead brand.  Cingular is an alive brand.  I like the Orange guy too.  The orange Cingular guy is a pretty awesome thing to see.  Better than the Sprint fake-swoosh, better than the Verizon Vcraphole thing. I don't want the stupid At&T circle thing.  It's dumb... and here's why. 

The AT&T logo looks like a fat guy who wears horizontal stripes.  It accentuates the gut bulge.  Any fat guy knows that wearing horizontal stripes is a horrible idea.  The AT&T logo looks like the gut of a fat guy wearing horizontal stripes. 

It's almost giving me t-mobile thoughts... but not really

Lunchfarts

You will be pleased to learn that today was free lawyer lunch day. And the previous silent complaints about the salmon have been answered: today, in addition to the salmon, there was a whole platter of beef tenderloin cooked perfectly medium rare. And, to tell you the truth, the salmon was pretty good today too. (Have I mentioned that the salmon comes braided like a challah? The salmon comes braided like a challah. Yes, that's weird. No, I don't know how they do it. Would I like to do it myself? Probably.)

But that's not all: one of the secretaries is leaving today, so we had goodbye secretary cake, which is made with strawberries and white chocolate and is delicious. There was also carrot cake and cheesecake. This lawyering thing isn't so bad after all.

Bullshit break

I rushed home from work, got a sandwich, and now there is a hour and a half break?  What the fuck.  Games.  Now.

Bracketfarts

Some people enter into brackets with the goal of winning. I tend to have more modest goals.

In my real bracket, I would be satisfied with tying sailor jacket, especially after what he did to me yesterday. I also hope to beat a lot of people who want to be rabbis, as well as you know who.

In other bracket, I want to beat the macher.

Dates:
Tied with sailor jacket, losing to the macher.

What are your goals, fellow bloggers?

Gyrofarts

I ate another gyro for lunch today. Miraculously, my pants remained unsullied through the experience.

Other Bracket Farts

The first day of basketball usually means that I'm over-anxious.

You can disregard the voicemail I left about how good Davidson is, sailor jacket. I'm just a touch over-anxious. See?

I don't like having two different brackets. I feel like an idiot twiceover. And I don't remember which is which. I had first picked Louisville in real bracket. (Sailor jacket can confirm, we talked about this.) And I meant to pick Stanford in other bracket, in which upsets get more points. But I got that backwards, apparently, which is confusing.

The brackets pretty much represent an anxious wednesday for me. They are a moment frozen in time, showing the whole firm and the rest of the world that I'm a fucking idiot. (But if only they could see my OTHER bracket . . . then they'd know . . .)

Two Lunch Day

Ah, to be young.  I could eat two lunches and not think twice.  I can't do that anymore.  Now I eat baked chips, spinach, mustard instead of mayo, Special K bars, and sugar free mints.  Really, life is not fair. 

What did we have on two lunch days?  Usually sushi and a burrito.  Now... I'm lucky if I can make a coherent lunch decision and avoid Subway hell.  Growing up is painful and confusing.

Bracketologyfarts

Brackets are really confusing to fill out.  No one knows the right answer, and everyone has the wrong answer.  It's really a no win situation which is great.  Here's the things that we need to know or not know depending on whether they're right or not:

1.  Ohio State sucks and Greg Oden is at least 29 years old.
2.  Ohio State is in the weakest bracket.
3.  Texas is going to fuck so many people when they lose in the first round.
4.  Do we pick Duke, Maryland, Kentucky, Louisville, etc, based on player/coach experience and past accomplishments?  My heart says yes, my mind says no, and my stomach says that Subway is hell.
5.  There are two Texas A&M's?  One is a community college?  Either way the original is way better than the sequel and they only need to beat Ohio State and their 29 year old freshman to make it to the final four.
6.  Wisconsin had a center that dislocated his elbow.  Now they supposedly suck. 
7.  Memphis will probably lose.
8.  Where is Syracuse?

The most important thing to remember is that your bracket is wrong, my bracket is wrong, and everyone else's bracket is really wrong.

Wednesday = Free Food Day

Like wedding farts, Wednesdays are also a special free-food day for me. Free Otis Spunkmeyer cookies with your meal at the cafeteria on the first floor of my building. Also, it's Chinese food day on Wednesdays. Today I had spicy breaded chicken, carrots, and broccoli. The breading had some weird spices in it and the person before me got the last eggroll -but the cookie was free and delicious.

I'm having an affair....

A Dinner A'Fair.

Cheesy name aside, I had mixed feelings when my roommate declared that he had signed up for a prepare-your-own-meals service. The premise is simple - you go to this website, login, and select which meals you want to prepare - you can chose up to 12. Then you drive to one of these locations where they have setup a cooking station just for you. All of the ingredients are raw - chopped vegetables, spices, sauces, beef, pork, chicken, fish, scallops, etc. To make your meals, you measure the ingredients into plastic bags and insert a small card with cooking instructions. After 2 hours and $140, drive home and insert meals into freezer.

This sounds great....for a person who perhaps is uncreative in the kitchen, never learned how to cook, or is too lazy to take the time and love required to serve up delicious home cooked meals. But that's not me. I love cooking. I love selecting the meat de jour, determining the perfect seasonings (usually includes Country Sweet sauce), researching new techniques and ingredients here and in here, slicing fresh vegetables, and eating the scraps all along the way. I had strong doubts that some gimmicky company could replace this satisfaction.

Well, a month into the program and 2 meal-making-sessions later, I am converted. I am eating as well if not better than I have ever eaten - and I get to eat 30 minutes earlier than usual. Last night it was beef Stroganoff. The night before, California turkey burgers with cilantro salsa. Before that, orange glazed sea scallops. Today I am defrosting chicken cordon blue. The meals are delicious. The meat marinates for days resulting in great flavor and tenderness, the recipes are creative and healthy, and the portions are perfect. I really have nothing to complain about - and you all know how much I love complaining about food that falls short of expectations.

Weddingfarts, please don't hate me - but my old-fashioned cooking days may be gone forever - replaced by this modern, efficient, delicious alternative. Sure, I'll still cook for special occasions...guests, weekend BBQ's, Passover, etc....but during the day-to-day grind I think I'm done. Wow, that sounds good to say. I have moved on. I am free.

Blueberry Bagelfarts

Faithful readers of weddingfarts know that I have set out, in life, to receive as much as free food as possible. So it will come as no surprise to you to learn that my apartment building sometimes has free breakfast. It's always on a Wednesday, although which wednesday of which month is never consistent.

This morning was free breakfast day. Free breakfast consists of coffee, bagels, and krispy kremes if you get there early enough. (I never get anywhere early enough, especially in the morning). So, I arrived at the breakfast table late, and the scraps were left. Which consisted of plain and bagels with purple dots. I was engaged in a conversation with the Steelers fan that sits in the lobby all day-- nice guy, a bit sad in life it seems, and only talks about the Steelers, at least with me (maybe he talks about antitrust law with someone else)-- and I picked up a dotted bagel.

I sit here now, eating my dotted bagel, and blogging about it at the same time. It's blueberry. Of the thousands of bagels I've consumed in life, this is my first blueberry bagel. Want to know why? Bagels shouldn't have purple in them.

Leftovers

I really don't like bringing leftovers for lunch.  It's super boring.  Makes me a little sad.  However, at least I had lunch.  Unlike some people yesterday. 

What I really want is a Barbacoa burrito from Chipotle. 

Instead I get leftovers.  They're good leftovers; you know a little salmon and fried rice.  The problem is they were made yesterday at dinner time.  I have problems on top of my problems.

Pizza Is Not a Meal

Hello everyone. I am safely and well fed-ly back at my desk in the warm and inviting city of Washington, D.C. Thank you for all of the comments and well wishes-- it is soul-restoring and humbling to be the subject of such an outpouring of sympathy and concern. I spent all day yesterday in the bowels (well, more like the closed cafeteria) of the police department of a county in an nearby state named after a nearby city. No, not like that.

We had arrived at at the police department at 12:30, and even then I was hungry. Worse, I couldn't get the idea of delicious barbeque out of my head, because I thought I was close to this place, which I was relatively speaking, but not in a lets-go-for-a-quick-bite kind of way.

But we didn't eat for a long time. We were waiting most of the day for something to happen, and at each moment, we thought that the negotiations were going to quickly fall apart, and so there was no sense in ordering dinner. Finally, at 8:30 pm, someone ordered pizza.

So, to recap, yesterday was an interesting day. I saw (but didn't do much) lawyering in action. I ate: two kashi breakfast bars, crappy 7-11 coffee, vending machine junk, and 3 pieces of pizza. Luckily, I stopped for a purple water on the way home, so I was totally revived and replenished when I got back at 2:30 in the morning.

Good story? No, not really. Not eating is not nearly as interesting, narratively-speaking, as eating. But I retell this story to confirm an important point: pizza is not a meal.*

*Except in New Haven.

Concerned and scared

Weddingfarts, esq. our DC based correspondent did not have lunch today. I can't remember a time when he has ever not had lunch. He's scared and nervous. Please leave him a comment letting him know that he will be ok. Please .gov's let him know you care.

Nervous Situations Call for Bold Ideas

Rhodes signed with the Raiders. I'm even more nervous about running backs for our beloved.

But is this a good idea?

Foodfarts

Well done, sailor jacket. That is a commendable dinner. Last night I had expensive sushi at Sushi Kappo Kawasaki, a small place south of Dupont. Everyone else in the restaurant was Japanese. You'd think that would be a good thing, and the fish was very fresh, but the dinner combos at this place were all $35 or more, and even a simple tuna roll cost $7, so I couldn't really chow down. My theory is that the place is included in a Japanese guide book, so they could get away with charging more than anywhere else in the city for small rolls of raw fish.

Maybe that's not fair. It could be just that good that it is worth the price. It might be the find of the year. But I couldn't really afford to investigate fully. And now I just want more sushi. Like all-you-can-eat deep-fried sushi . . .

Tonight is fancy dinner with food blog friend. Yes, I've been eating well lately.

Dillon visits our beloved today. We have mixed feelings about that.

I'll have the Express Tandoori Special Please

Salad, Naan, Matar Paneer (peas), Saag Paneer, Chicken Tikka Masala, and 3 pieces of Chicken Tikka. All served together on a metal plate with dividers. I don't think anyone had a better dinner than I did.

Wikipedia?

What the hell is it??  Where did it come from??  Why does it know everything?  I think it was invented the same day as youtube.  Help me .gov's... explain why wikipedia is the most important thing in the world.

Gone But Not Forgotten

Luckily, as your DC-based correspondent, I will still get to hear about McGahee and his baby mommas on a weekly basis. I enjoy that so many former Bills make homes for themselves in the DC metropolitan area. Anyone care for updates regarding Gregg "Oops, just crapped my pants" Williams?

McGahee Aftermathfarts

I read an article about McGahee today. Which is fine. The more I think about it the better it is. Our beloved has a superstar: Lee Evans. Lee doesn't go around impregnating south Florida. Nor does he claim that the Bills should move to Toronto. Willis was a me first player who was going to be getting out of town as soon as he could next offseason. The Bills made the right move for the franchise by getting something for him in return unlike Nate Clements who just walked. Good trade or bad trade; it's all irrelevant. They got something for him which is much better than nothing.

Another note about the Baltimore/Buffalo trade angle:

A ton of people are going to say that McGahee will do better with McNair rather than JP. I followed this shit closely. I really did. One thing I noticed last fantasy season was that JP actually had a better season than McNair. Want evidence? JP Losman against Steve McNair.

So what's the next move? The Bills sit at #12 and could end up with the second best running back, Marshawn Lynch, in the draft. So, they sign Corey Dillon/Dominic Rhodes to a 1 year contract and let Lynch steal the starters playing time (much like Maroney already did to Dillon). It could be a beautiful thing.

Then again, the Bills could have taken Leinart last year.

About McGahee

I'm not devastated.  I was not impressed with him at all last year.  As my brother said, "He's allergic to the endzone."  Thanks Willis, thanks for making all those babies.

He's Gone, he's gone, nothing's going to bring him back

Willis is gone! Willis is gone!

Sportsfarts

I second Man Boob's enthusiastic post about the Orange. I also followed the game on CBS Sportsline, which meant that I missed, among other things, the new, skin-tight Syracuse uniforms. Few things make me happier than watching Syracuse beat UConn again and again. It looks like Syracuse has tightened their game-- they have a lot of talent, but looked very sloppy in the few games I saw this year. I hope that they've finally pulled things together and don't overthrow as many passes out of bounds.

I'm getting nervous about Our Beloved's running back situation. The Willis trade attempts appear more serious than I previously thought. I don't think that replacing Willis with Dillon is such a great idea, unless Dillon can bring with him the secrets of Bill "Man Titties" Belichick's offense.

ORANGE

The Big East Tourney has begun! Yesterday afternoon I followed the Cuse game using CBS Sportsline's Gamecenter. A couple of observations:

1) Watching an important basketball game being represented by black circles, hollow circles, x's, and numbers is a very unfulfilling experience.

2) A lot can happen during a 60 second post back. 8 point swings. 2 technical fouls. Calhoun having a melt-down and kicking the Big East sign. CBS needs to work on ASYNCHRONOUS website technology. HTML post backs is, like, 3 years ago...

3) Rautin's arms and legs remind me of wedding fart

4) I pay $75 a month for a high def signal that I can only receive through a proprietary box that weighs 10 pounds and is tethered to the wall in my living room. Screw that! I pay for the content - let me see it wherever, whenever, on whatever. The technology is there, the bandwidth is there - so where's my portable signal????
UPDATE: Wedding fart just let me know that ESPN360 is free this week. Someone finally listened to me!

5) Syracuse continues its dominance at the Big East Tournament - and this year without McNamara throwing up prayers at the buzzer. In 2 hours they match up against Notre Dame - the 20th ranked team in the country. Who would have thought two months ago that we'd have a decent a chance of winning...who???

Oh Great

Curt Schilling has a blog. That is not the point. The point is, Curt Schilling has posted the longest blog post in the history of the internets.

This is terrible

Things are bad.  Really bad.  They could be getting worse or better, but read the link.  This is what happens when things are HORRIBLE. 

Obamafarts

How do I know that we are in the age of Obama? Because Charles Barkely has him on his cell phone, and he may get the endorsement of Greatest Endorser Ever.

I just want to be there when Agent 0 and Obama meet.

3 Medium Pizza Farts, Part II

About two days ago, weddingfarts asked its readers to participate in a survey regarding an extremely polarizing topic - the classification of pizza as a meal. The results were quite revealing. 29% of those surveyed indicated that pizza can always be considered a meal, 29% felt that pizza can never be considered a meal, and the remaining 43% responded that pizza may or may not be a meal depending on the toppings.

The hardliners on the left feel that pizza is best categorized as a snack and/or an appetizer. They commonly point to the "unacceptable" ratio of bread and cheese in relation to the toppings. If you piled up each ingredient separately, they surmise, you can clearly see that pizza lacks the nutritional values and 'meat appeal' found in a proper meal.

Within the right-wing constituency, we find a much different story. Pizza is celebrated as a delicious, satisfying meal. People in this category find it perfectly acceptable to eat pizza for lunch, dinner, and even an occasional breakfast. "Pizza is like sex," states one of their more popular slogans, "Even when it's bad, it's good."

This leaves us with the swing voters - a whopping 43% of our readers. These individuals are cognizant of the lack of quality toppings found on the majority of pizzas in America. A plain cheese pizza is not a meal, they feel, but becomes one by adding the proper quantity of meat and fresh vegetables. By adding a side-salad to the mix, even more people are attracted to this middle-of-the-road stance.

This leaves us with one very important question - what is my stance on pizza? I will tell you.

I feel that in this great democracy everyone is entitled to their own opinion. If you think that the human eye is proof of intelligent design, so be it. If you feel that the jury is out on global warming, fine. If you think that the holocaust was a hoax, then you are an idiot...and if you think that a cheese, pepperoni, or sausage pizza is a meal, you have that right. But you are mistaken. Sure, you will live if you eat it for dinner, just like you can subside off of a birthday cake or buckets of KFC or ten days of only eating matzo. But no one can deny that pizza lacks the proper servings of vegetables and meat. I am sorry if this hurts to hear.

So is pizza not a meal? Is it really just an appetizer or a snack? What I am about to say will shock you - especially if you have known me since my drooling stage. There are conditions in which pizza can be considered a meal - albeit I maintain that these conditions are rare. This requires a lot of toppings - a lot. An accompanying salad and wings further the argument for classifying pizza as a meal – and yes, boneless wings count...

I would like to thank everyone who has participated in this debate and I apologize to any of our readers whose dinner plans for tonight are now ruined.

Terrified

For the past several days I have only been able to watch 1 hour of TV.  Not because I'm limiting myself, but because I'm significantly bored with it.

WEDDINGFARTS, J., concurring in part, dissenting in part.

Having reviewed the views of my distinguished brethren on the matter of boneless chicken "wings," I feel it incumbent upon me to share my own, slightly different set of thoughts.

I believe that there is common ground between the three of us on several important points:

1. Wings (you know which ones I'm talking about) occupy a singular position in each of our weekly "menus";
2. All else being equal, and the proper conditions having attained, boneless "wings" have never, should never, and will never, be ordered in place of wings;
3. And-- I'm going out on a limb here, since Man Boobs did not expressly state this view-- it isn't always easy to eat wings. I feel that I can say this because Man Boobs stains shirts at about the same frequency I do, which is to say, most days of the week.

Where my colleagues seem to differ, if they in fact do, is on the degree of messiness that one should put up with due to consumption of wings in less than ideal conditions where there is a boneless option. Man Boobs has staked out a somewhat hardline position, which even rhymes, kind of. (Footnote: I, like Sailor Jacket, am skeptical that Man Boobs would never lower himself to eat "ground up" and fried chicken, having eaten many lunches with him during the chicken patty years.) Sailor Jacket is less doctrinaire, proposing a multi-factor test to judge the appropriate manner of consumption of wings.

My feelings on the matter are mixed. My instincts are to side with Man Boobs, and I sympathize with his view (but unfortunately not his skill) that flats just aren't as hard to eat as commonly thought. But I appreciate, at the same time, several of the food innovations that have been made possible by boneless "wings." For example: the buffalo chicken salad. In other words, the boneless "wing" should not be viewed as a replacement to the wing, but as an extension of its beauty, grace, and power which enables the consuption of buffalo-ness in non-wing settings.

So I suggest this: Boneless "wings" should never be eaten when sitting at a bar watching a game, when ordering food at home, or when pizza is served at the same meal. It is acceptable to eat boneless "wings," however, when they are incorporated into a sandwich with tomato or in a salad with blue cheese dressing, when they are eaten at lunch, when eating a buttoned-down shirt that had been cleaned within the last week, or when sweating in front of females is of major concern.

I have a feeling that, if the three of us were to sit down, there is no question as to what we'd order.

The more important question is: who would eat the most?

Man Boobs may be right... or wrong

Man Boobs stated very clearly that the chicken wing is the way to go in the debate over boneless vs. bone-in wings.  He mentioned something about the process of making a boneless wing. 

I want to set the record straight and let you, faithful weddingfarters, know that I once saw Man Boobs eat 4 McChicken sandwiches in one sitting.

What does that have to do with anything?  Well I'm glad you asked.  Not much.

The wing vs. boneless debate is really just a question of how dirty you want to get, what day it is, what time it is, and what you have to do for the rest of the day.  If it's a monday, and it's lunch time, and you have a meeting in 45 minutes, and you're wearing a blue button down shirt, you would go boneless.  If it's a sunday and our beloved are playing and you have 2 root beers and you have the apartment to yourself and your hanging out with friend and you have a bag of reeces pieces and lays potato chips then you clearly go bone in.

I hate to simplify it in this way, but it's a matter of circumstance.  The bottom line is that you need wings in one form or another, and you have to be aware of all the surrounding factors.  Just remember... You need wings.

3 Medium Pizza Farts

This has been a lifelong debate for myself and anyone who has ever said "lets order pizza for dinner" in my presence. I decided that before I go on a tirade regarding this topic, I would let you, the reader, weigh in. What do you think?

Is pizza a meal?
	Yes
	No
	Depends on the toppings
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Awesome Use of Internets

This might be something that you want to know about.

Obamafarts

This is the inaugural post for a new type of farts: Obamafarts. I, weddingfarts, your DC-based correspondent, will probably have lots to contribute to Obamafarts over the next couple of years, and perhaps far into the future.

You may wonder, is this because I really like Obama? You may wonder that, but that would make you an idiot. Because Obama is not something to like or not like. We don't experience Obama on the basis of normal human emotion, or even on the basis of rational contemplation of competing political visions, narratives, and values. I realized this today at fancy lunch, which was delicious. Fancy lunch consisted of perfectly seared scallops, which were much better than the scallops I had last night at neighborhood italian place, grilled trout with creamy buttery sauce, and very chococately cake with butter cream everything. Good lunch.

But I'm not talking about lunch. I'm talking about Obama. Or rather, I'm just living in the age of Obama. Everything I talk about is actually about Obama, even if I'm not actually saying "Obama." Like fancy lunch.

The point is: we don't choose the age we get to live it. It doesn't matter if we like it or not. Do I like Wegmans? That's not a question. Wegmans is part of life. Do I like sunshine in the morning? Do I like oceans full of water? Do you see what I'm getting at?

Of course I like Obama. He's everything we've ever wanted a politician to be. I can't wait to find out that he's actually Jewish too. But it doesn't matter. The question really is: does Obama like us?

Bracket - Weddingfarts Style

Here it is. .gov's we're going to need your help here.

Round 1:

Marty McFly - bye

Chewie vs. Teen Wolf

Ivan Drago vs. Boba Fett

Biff Tannan vs. Clubber Lang

Rocky Balboa (from 1,2,3,4, and Rocky Balboa) vs. Rocky from Rocky 5

Thunder Lips vs. Lando

Any Ewok - bye

Special Treat

There is nothing better than having a day off and turning on the TV,
flipping through the channels and finding that the Empire Strikes
Back is on.

Which brings me to a very important conversation; ranking the great
movie series' of my childhood.
We'll do this in an organized fashion. Title of Movie and then
Ranking by Sequel.

Back to the Future: easily 1, 2, 3

Star Wars: I'm not going to fuck around with the bullshit craphole
1-3 nonsense. It goes like this, empire, new hope, Jedi, crappy one
where Anakin turns into Vader, crappy clone war one with Samuel L.
Jackson being a douchey Jedi, really crappy first one where Jar Jar
just about makes everyone puke.

Rocky: 4,1,3,2, Rocky Balboa

Teen Wolf: 1,2

Skin And Bones

Do you like boneless chicken wings?



I do not like them
Man boobs I am
I do not like
Boneless chicken wings

I do not like them in blue cheese
I do not like them listening to Brother Wease
I do not like them fried in Greece (pardon the pun)

Would you eat them in a ski club fleece?
Would you eat them with the Buffalo police?

No!!!!

Buffalo Wings are, by definition, the wing section of a chicken. Wing sections contain bones. The bones provide an unparalleled level of moisture and tenderness. The chunk of cartilage on the end of a drum provides an all-natural, non-greasy, cool-to-the-touch handle perfect for hungry human hands. And don't forget about the flats. Oh the flats. The next time you eat a flat, the following procedure is a must:

1) Insert the entire wing into your mouth
2) Lightly close down with your teeth
3) While sucking in with an even pressure, gently pull the bones out of your mouth

If done correctly, you can eat the entire chicken wing in one smooth, fluid motion.

Fried ground-up chicken breast cannot compete - even when dipped in hot sauce and butter (what a brilliant sauce!).