Why would Bobby Flay create a show where he challenges poor old regular folk on their best dishes? There is no way you can come out of there NOT looking like an asshole, even if most of them time you let them win, especially when you already start out pretty much an asshole, being Bobby Flay and all.
Also: you (and Steve from sex and the city) talk like babies. Babies from the Bronx.
Speaking of jackasses who do not deserve their own shows: who the fuck is Bill Engval? People should not have to ask that question if you are going to name a show after yourself; even if it did have some generic name, it would still suck, and it would still be just another show about an ugly, overweight man and his henpeckish but hot anorexic wife.
I never watch TV, but now I have fewer friends, more free time, and unfortunately, fewer channels, which consist mainly of: Fox, TBS, the CW, the Food Network, and PBS.
It’s annoying how falsely exciting the pathetic lives of people like DSedaris (before the fame OBVIOUSLY), or Dawn on the Office, are because you know that in the end everything ends up really great and/or the people are fictional. Then you realize that your own life might be sad, but really sad, forever, not just for the interim. Working sad, stop-gap jobs is only hilarious when people are reading about it later, and making you millions of dollars in the process.
True, I will never varnish furniture, or work at a paper supply company. But I will probably be just as poor, and hopeless. And what’s worse, I will probably fail to even secure the dreamy boyfriend.
I don’t say this because I am a fatalist, and I only sort of say this because I am somewhat depressed and lonely at the moment. It is quite possible that the impending trip to the overpriced, overrated PinkBerry to meet up with my cousin and her Buddhist vegan boyfriend will be a mood lifter. He used to be an anarchist, but now has only anarchistic (and only somewhat anachronistic) tendencies. I need this human contact, even if she and I are equally indifferent to each other.
Today, I walked the 50 or so blocks home from work instead of taking the overcrowded subway, and I have to say the view from Broadway on a weekday was one of the choicest collections of weirdos this peoplewatcher has seen in a while.
It’s easy to forget how BIZARRE people can be, and I suggest such a voyage to anyone who has visions of New York as a haven of hipsters and sex and the city-like style mavens.
Other things about my day:
1) Watching a homeless man try to steal a bike while onlookers pretended not to look, or simply did not care.
2) Nearly all of the blackberries in my 3 for $5 packages developed mold, seemingly overnight
3) Ana da Luna came by to flaunt her perfect skunk spot and rave about the mediocre Dan Savage.
4) If every woman in Brooklyn has a baby, every woman in Manhattan is pregnant
