Sunday, May 11, 2008

Flawless and flubless

After suffering a horrendous arm sunburn last weekend:

(thanks 5 Boro Bike Ride! I really enjoyed sitting on that hot asphalt for an hour in Sunset Park, sllllloooowwwwllly frying!), you'd think I'd would have had enough of the bike riding for a while. But, no! After slathering myself in sunscreen I rode off to lovely Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn where I frolicked about with a friend and ended up in some apparently revolutionary fast food joint I'd never heard of. (Note to self: never, ever eat anywhere that is so proud of a write-up in the friggin' New York Sun!)

That was all fine and good, although the tart I ate was rather uninspiring, and the Americano only lukewarm. What was most upsetting, though, is while readying myself to regale previously-mentioned friend with what I billed as a "stupid story," I was suddenly accosted by some pale-eyed white kid who stared at me very seriously, and then said, "You said stupid," in a very stern voice. "Huh?" I responded. "Stupid is a bad word," said the precious darling, crossing his arms. My friend and I stared at him, disbelievingly, while his bespectacled mother charged up and demanded to know what we had done to her offspring. After the little fiend accused me again, the mother said, as if this would make accosting an adult in public totally acceptable, "Oh! Well, stupid is a bad word in our house."

And you know what I did? Rather than responding in a reasonable way--perhaps by letting her know that training one's children not to interrupt adult conversations and not to intolerantly impose his or her decidedly narrow morals on someone else might be good ideas--I tittered nervously and said...

"Oh, I'm sorry," in a submissive voice straight out of the Handmaid's Tale!

I don't know what the [word deleted to avoid offending strangely moralistic Brooklynites] is wrong with me, for real.

Anyway, rather than beating myself up about it, I hereby pledge and reaffirm that I will never, ever give birth. Instead, I turn my attention to this:

[to receive the full effect of L Ron's genius, please click to enlarge]
which mysteriously arrived in my mailbox earlier this week. It was misdelivered, which I only realized after taking a closer look at it...but, oh, what a misdelivery! I have had very little interaction with the scientologists, minus one very memorable "personality test" taken on Hollywood Boulevard with a former boyfriend. This, apparently, is some type of weekend retreat or infomercial type deal taking place later in May. Look how fun it looks!

I have so many questions! What is that red apparatus? Why is L. Ron such a horrible writer? And what does "One rud unflown--cramming" even mean?

Friday, May 02, 2008

Bratwurst Friday

So, last night on my soggy walk home from German class, I made what is becoming a weekly pit stop in the local Whole Foods.

I must admit, I am torn about this. Whole Foods, unlike my local Pathmark grocery store, is not a unionized workplace, and I feel almost intolerably bourgsie when I walk around buying things like hazelnut oil and whole grain sushi. (This feeling of Bourgsie Doom was compounded last night by the fact that I got in a conversation with a random bystander about ramps, ferchris'sakes)

However, on this day, as I stood in front of the freezer case, I came across something I have never before seen in the United States:

JesusMaryandJoseph! I think I let out a little chortle of joy, right there in the Whole Foods.

So, I came home, fried it up in a pan, and ate it with my whole grain sushi and a beer. I must admit, I can't remember what real bratwurst tastes like, as I probably ate my last one as a youngster, but the fake brat was surprisingly spicy and....lecker!

How did this happen? Am I just the last half-german vegetarian in the USA to know that Boca started making veggie bratwurst?