You ever wonder what marks the final death of a trend? Like, when was the last slap bracelet slapped or who owns that last pair of parachute pants ever manufactured? When it comes to fashion, I'm not sure, but I guess when Target does a collaboration with Pendleton it'll be the end of the Native American print era (although I could argue that seeing it all over Urban Outfitters marks the end just as easily). But I'm talking about bacon, a product made from a piggy and something that I do enjoy. But we need to end this nonsense. The nail is officially in the coffin (and by that I mean you are going to die). When Denny's decides to make a bacon menu and starts airing teaser trailers with pornographic grunting, it's over.
We need to MoveOn.org. I like bacon, I love bacon, it is a salty tasty treat and its rendered fat makes for just about the greatest thing to fry with in the world, except for maybe duck fat. But it's over. That place Sage General Store in Long island City has a bacon brunch. If you ask me, it's pretty similar to Denny's, except that Sage uses better products and Denny's front of house staff supports more aging ugly divorcees.
Seriously: There's not much else to say, this isn't really funny, I don't really care. Bacon on everything isn't cool anymore, the South isn't going to Rise Again, and we'll never find who killed Biggie and Tupac.
And I'll just climb down from my soapbox now ... good. R.I.P. Bacon, you had a good run.
i don't know how to act — in real or fake situations
The show is called "My Life As Liz" and is (I guess) a reality show(?) and this was undoubtedly the worst episode because it featured "real people" like me who weren't alerted that they wouldn't have a trailer, go to makeup and would have to brush their teeth/chest hair/wear a clean shirt/underwear/deodorant on their own the day of the shoot.
Surprisingly the crew and that girl Liz were very nice, sociable people. Usually production crews seem rife with incredible wastes of space possessing incomprehensible god complexes and feelings of superiority: People that were bullied enough in high school to become traffic cops but lacking the body type to pass a police physical exam. Not these guys though, they were alright.
Back to my fame/shame, I know that face I'm making: They made me turn off my music so that they could film the "dialogue" and so I had to sit in boredom and silence for about an hour. I was forced into Marlee Matlin moments. But there was some entertainment in the form of a drunk, dapper homeless Polish man who refused to get off the bench outside once he found out cameras would be rolling. This guy was hilarious, and I wish I had a photo of him. I'd still recognize him to this day and would love to make him a Homeless Trading Card, but I assume he's left Greenpoint and gone on to at least some stardom like that Ted Williams guy did before relapsing. This hobo hit on every production girl with a clipboard in drunken, slurred, but very charming Polish-English-Smirnoff dialect, a box of Hortex-brand beet juice and vodka in one hand and a plastic bag filled with various "possessions" in the other. (If you don't know, Hortex is this Polish brand of strange fruit juice combinations that are in every store in Greenpoint. Please visit the website if you are a fan of insanity, Joanna Newsom and bad MIDI rip-off instrumentation, because that is apparently what entices a bunch of blond people to mix plum-cabbage nectar and muskrat sweat with vodka.)
something creepy about the packaging
For the record, the Hortex "Leon" kids' juice boxes are pretty good; I like the one that's like banana, pineapple and orange liquid. Anywhooo, this guy was wearing a tan seersucker blazer, a fedora and had a lovely singing voice, which he showcased by stepping in front of the cameras and belting out some Polish showtune every time they started to film. And they filmed, A LOT, for a 2 minute clip. This show is less like the freeforall MTZ meme — which is feed people grain alcohol and see what happens, or, in the case of Teen Moms, see what happens after that happens — and more like a real, fake show. So it wasn't scripted, per se, but it wasn't exactly like following someone around with a camera.
Whatever. Everyone knows this already. I just wanted to tell the internet how grumpy I am, which is why I'm sitting inside in sweatpants, writing this and listening to '90s West Coast rap albums while the sun is shining outside on the nicest day in weeks. I gotztago get some vitamin D, for "DeezNutz", for sunshine, for NateDogg. R.I.P. N-A-T-E.
Some tributes:
Deez Nutz:
DJ E-Z DIK, One of my favorite songs of all time, and great hooks from NateDogg:
