Details of the Recommendation: “Let’s face it LinkIN, modern political writers are boring and straightlaced. In the good ole days, reporters all had a little gonzo Hunter Thompson in them. They drank too excess. They cursed and swore in public. They hung out at seedy establishments, etc. I’m not saying Jeff is any of these things but, he is a pretty entertaining writer. If there is a ever a cocaine & gay sex scandal involving the Colorado state GOP, Jeff will report on it and say something hilarious. In fact, aren’t we overdue for a cocaine & gay sex scandal with the Colorado state GOP?”
This is the third or fourth time I’ve had someone compare my political commentary to Hunter Thompson, which is cool and all, except I’m not sure I really like the guy. He once threatened to run a million dollar campaign against a candidate I was working for. Seemed like kind of a jerk, but then maybe that’s an apt comparison?
Dear god, please let there be a cocaine and gay sex Colorado GOP scandal. I’m not sure how Hunter S. Thomspon-esque you are, but I know you’d report the hell out of that.
“Bodies count, of course - they count more than we’re willing to admit - but we don’t fall in love with bodies, we fall in love with each other, and if much of what we are is confined to flesh and bone, there is much that is not as well.”—Paul Auster, Oracle Night
I just finished this book - I think # 23 for the year, but I’m not sure and I’m not going to count right now. I loved it - two narratives alternating chapters that don’t combine until the very end. And for 400 pages, it was a quick read but it made me think - both of which make me happy.
I want to write something about the Columbine anniversary today, but being in high school at the time of the incident... it's hard, and I don't know what to say, and I'm afraid I'm going to sound trite.
My password at work is about to expire. The internet picked it. It's "breakfasttaco" and even though that has been hell to type for the past 3 months, I'm still going to let you pick the new one. So what should it be?
Please note: I’ve already used Unicorn and Cupcake. Fo’Realz.
Matt pulled an all nighter at work on Thursday (he left the office at 6am, and was on a conference call with his boss again at 8am, and back at the office at 9:30), so when he left the office last night at 7, I knew a) we couldn’t do very much, as he was exhausted and b) he’s not the kind of person who would want to just order take out, watch 30 Rock, and go to bed.
So we went to the Washington Square dog park with Madeline, where she a) got nipped in the face by a Basset Hound-y dog whose owner was very concerned b) got to run around like a maniac for almost an hour and c) got chased/to chase a very playful Bullmastiff around.
Matt and I then went and had seriously amazing Southern comfort food at Bourbon Street on Hudson in the West Village - Matt had fried chicken and I had country fried steak, and dear god, I’m hooked. This food made me want to die of a heart attack.
At which point we went home and went to bed. On Friday night, like the rockstars we are. To be fare, it was almost midnight, and Matt had been up for approximatey 40 hours at that point, barring his 90 minute nap in the morning.
But the entire reason that I am writing this huge long post is to tell you: When I woke up at 7:15 this morning, Madeline was not yet awake. She usually starts barking at 6:55 for us to get her out of bed and feed her, and I don’t know if this is because she’s growing out of her puppy phase, or if she was just so exhausted from the dog park that all she could do was sleep.
This excited me so much I didn’t even mind getting up so early on Saturday and taking her for a walk.