Hmmm. Best?

Here's the poster for next summer's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Movie. You know, the one starring Johnny Depp, directed by Tim Burton. The kids at Hot Topic are going to love this thing. I've blogged about it (the movie, not the poster) before, back on July 5. Get this: Christopher Lee is playing Willy Wonka's Dad? Word is the teaser for this thing'll be attached to the Polar Express . . . but right now I'm not feeling so good about trailers that are supposed to be attached to new movies. Man, Big Fish was such a good movie, it'll be nice to see Tim Burton cutting loose and making something really wild.

Once again, dedicated to Jen Gurney.

Best Little Weekend Wrap-Up I'll Write Tonight

So, here's my weekend. The interesting parts, at least.

Friday Yeah, I cleaned my apartment real good. Yeah, I did all my laundry. Yeah, I returned some pants and did some homework. But Friday night was Incredibles night, and that's all that mattered. Fueled by a delicious White Castle dinner I was able to secure the best seats in the house and despite the fact that (for some reason) the Episode III trailer wasn't attached to our print, the Incredibles did not disappoint. This movie might just make all the money in the universe. There was so much to like about it, but what comes to mind right now as being awful great was 1) The Design. It's with much pride that I say it looked like they ripped off most of their 50's/60's Modern cues from my Grandma's own furniture collection. Beautiful. 2) I really liked when Dash had to run, and those razor-copters were after him. That was great. Also, there was this guy sitting near me that kept laughing at all the not very funny parts and burping, too. He was funny. And I can only say that because I wasn't sitting right right by him. So, yeah. If you haven't, go see it. It's full of good stuff.

Saturday Studying and stuff all day. Saw Nicole Richie in front of Jerry's on Prince. Some might ask where all my celebrity sightings have been lately--mostly I've just been seeing people I've seen before around again. I've seen Nicole around before, and a little while ago I saw Famke Janssen walking her dog, for like the third time.

But the big thing about Saturday was that in the PM I went to Hoboken to see the Futureheads at Maxwell's with Genevieve. You know what? Hoboken looks just like San Diego. Seriously. They both have a Sam Goody and everything. Just don't tell San Diego that I said that, I'm sure it'd be mad.

The Futureheads proved to be plenty good. Very Franz Ferdinandy sounding, except all four of them sang--which you don't get often, you know, the whole band singing. They played 17 songs in less than an hour, just the kind of show I like. The Futureheads have a bit of buzz going on right now, so they might be headed for a next-big-thing deal, or they might just wind up another band that was supposed to be the next-big-thing.

Here's a picture of two of the guys rockin' out:



The band had really great onstage banter, like the clever stuff the Beatles said in "Help!" And I'm sure that Genevieve wants you to know that the Futureheads had a roadie, and that she found him to be a good looking fellow. Judge for yourself:



After the show Genevieve and I found ourselves walking down a quiet Hoboken street alongside a member of the Futureheads that we'll call "the tall one." Genevieve asked him a question or two about the roadie, and he answered with some clever North England expression, then ran off into a park and peed on a tree. True story.

Man. What a vain and foolish thing Steady Mobbin' is.

Sunday In the evening I went and had a fine dinner at Joe's house. Once dinner was over, the lights were turned down low, the mirror ball was turned on, and sweet music ("Total Eclipse of the Heart") filled the room. Awkward slow dancing ensued. Here we've got a "what's going on here?" no-flash account of the dancing and a "Oh, that's what's going on" flash version.

Best Unpublished Concert Review of the Week

Here’s the “review” I wrote for the school paper of the Walkmen concert I went to last week. Turns out there wasn’t enough room in the paper for this article (probably because of the 900+ words I wrote on the Incredibles and Iron Giant that we did punish) so this is the first this review has ever been available to “the public.”

I think it comes off as overly negative, that was my “angle”, I guess. To their credit, the Walkmen were rather tight and performed rather well . . . I really, really like their drummer. There was just something off about the show, and the whole short first set/three encores deal was a part of what was very wrong about the show—along with all the screaming their singer did. Seriously, he screamed so much (Heavenly Martini “Jack the Ripper” style, if that means anything to you) and after every song he gestured to the sound guy to turn his vocals up. Trust me dude, we heard you, you didn’t need to keep turning it up.

There was this Concert that I Went To
by Brigham Barnes

Rock band the Walkmen dared their audience to ask “When is an encore not really an encore?” Friday night at Webster Hall show. Despite a strong repertoire to draw songs from, the band dashed through a rather lackluster 45 minute set where the band’s lead singer sure screamed a lot more than I remember him needing to on any of their albums, topping the night off with succinct renditions of their biggest “hits”, “We’ve Been Had” and “the Rat” before calling it a night. The band left the stage momentarily, the audience remained in relative silence waiting for the obligatory encore, and I can only imagine that the following scene took place behind stage:

Walkman One: “Hey, what time is it?”
Walkman Two: “Let me look at my watch . . . aw, no way! It’s 10:30!”
Walkman Three: “A rock concert can’t end at 10:30, can it?”
Walkman One: “No! We’d better get out there and play some more songs.”

And so the band returned to the stage to play about four more songs, ending their set with a cover of the Cramps’ “Green Fuzz,” probably the only song of the evening to make me go “Hey, that’s kind of cool.” Then the band left the stage, probably a little happier with themselves for having taken up a more reasonable amount of our time. At this time, most of the audience started to leave, but oddly, the house lights didn’t come up. To the experienced concert-goer, this can only mean one thing. Backstage, the Walkmen were having a conversation something like this:

Walkman One: “All right! Now we’ve officially played for an hour!”
Walkman Two: “Man, those kids loved us out there!”
Walkman Three: “Well, there’s only one thing we can do now . . . “
Walkman One: “Yes, time for our real encore!!”

And so the Walkmen returned to the stage—the sight of this causes the departing crowd to rush back into the concert hall. Walkman One says “Here’s an old song from our first album” or something like that and they play a song where he mostly screams, if I remember correctly. It was more along the lines of something you endure. When the song ended, Walkman One says “So that’s what you get for your twenty bucks” or something like that, you know, to make us aware of how much money we had spent on some seriously underwhelming rock and roll.

So the crowd starts to depart again, even if the house lights haven’t come up and no one has started to take any instruments down, I make it all the way to the lobby before I can hear that the band is playing another encore. I imagine a conversation like this had occurred:

Walkman One: “Well, our encore seemed to go real well. The fans love it when we play our old stuff.”
Walkman Two: “Uhm, you’re talking about the song we just played, right? Not the mini-set we played before it, right?”
Walkman One: “Yeah, that’s right.”
Walkman Three: “You know, since everyone liked us so much, why don’t we play . . .”
Walkman One: “A third, or second encore (depending on how you look at it)? All right!!”

And so the Walkmen took to the stage once more, but I was in the lobby and “missed it.” Word got to me that the band announced that they were tying their personal record for “most encores” – I’m just glad I was blocks away from Webster Hall before I could find out if they had broken their record for most encores or not.

Since I don't have anywhere else to say this, let me say it here: Monday night I went and saw this movie, "800 Bullets", from Spain. It came out in 2002 and played at a few festivals or whatever but was never picked up for general US distribution. I read numerous reviews by film geeks losing their minds over this thing, so when I heard it was playing for a week here in NYC at the Clearview Cinema Latino, I went to check it out. Turns out I was about the only person interested in it, because I was the lone ticket buyer for the 9 PM showing. Sort of a very odd feeling, watching a movie all by yourself in a giant theater. Even worse, there was only one screen at the whole place, so basically the entire staff had to stay (as late as they should have stayed) because of me. Movie was pretty good, for a movie about a Spanish boy who runs away from home to meet his stuntman Grandfather, but it had that odd feel of a movie meant to be popular in another country--(this is in no way a legitimate criticism)--most of the jokes and the twists of the movie just weren't made for Americans, even snobby foreign film fan Americans. This movie isn't a "foreign film" in the sophisticated sense of the word, it's just a popular movie of another country. A solid 3 stars, but you aren't missing anything if you never see it. Of note: the Spanish in this movie? Some of the foulest language I've heard in any film. Kept me cracking up.

And why don't I cram a third "review" in here. Last night I rented Pieces of April, the movie from last year about hipster Katie Holmes making Thanksgiving Dinner for her whole family. I liked it plenty. What it had going for it is that it told the story it had to tell, tossed in only one or two subplots, and didn't try to do any more than that. A nice enough little movie with some really funny moments and a bit of heart. No complaints.

Tambien Dejame decir "Hola!" a La Familia Santo Roble. You guys are making this place blow up. You know what, let me say "Hola" to all the Moms, Dads, Brothers, and Sisters of my friends who visit Steady Mobbin' in general. It is true. I am as cool as I seem.

Best Pun of the Week (a.k.a. "I Love it When You Call Me Beard Papa")

Brigham Barnes here, reporting on what have to be about the two hottest things right now. First, feeding the missionaries. It's just gotten so popular lately, it's like, you're simply not cool if you're not inviting the missionaries over for food--be it home cooked or delivered. As I gave the work a shot myself only, uhm, seven or eight years ago (how did that happen?) it warms my heart to see so many eager to fill their bellies.

Secondly, everyone who is anyone is talking about Beard Papa, the Japanese cream-puff sensation that is sweeping the nation . . . and by "sweeping the nation" I mean, there are like 3 Beard Papa stores in New York City now. These white and yellow havens of pastry goodness sell only one thing: Beard Papa creampuffs. And as far as creampuffs go, they're pretty good. Not like I've eaten many disgusting creampuffs in my day. And why is it called Beard Papa? Well, their logo is some guy that looks like Ernest Hemingway wearing a yellow hat and smoking a pipe. That must have something to do with it. Learn more at the official Beard Papa website.

Last night these two out of control sensations came together on Christopher Street in an apartment above Ty's Bar. Look carefully and you'll see Beard Papa hard at work in these photos, but they aren't really total in-your-face "we love creampuffs!" sorts of photos.

Electroclash Karisa and Kristin Mills and a box of Beard Papas. Genius award goes to KLH for quipping "I love it when you call me Beard Papa" (Don't get it? Click.)


Me, the Elders, and some Beard Papa action.


Seriously, though. It's like I'll blog about anything.

Steady Mobbin' Internacional

You read my blog. I read my site meter. And according to my site meter, in this past week I've been getting visits from IP addresses that call the "Central European Time Zone", "Nome Time" (New Zealand), and earlier there was one from China or something, but I can't seem to find it right now. So, anyway, many posts ago when I first got my site meter I promised a prize for my first international visitors. (It'd be helpful if I hyperlinked to that post, maybe later, it was about a month ago) So, my foreign friends, if you like prizes, let me know. Also, for all you Big Brother types who might be freaking out right now, don't. I can't tell who is reading my page, the meter just tells me what IPs are passing through my little domain. Besides, it's not like I haven't shared anything about myself with you.

Best Attempt at Trying to Explain Why I Love Something

Here's what I wrote for the law school paper this week on the Incredibles and the Iron Giant. The main idea here is: The Incredibles will undoubtedly be awesome because Brad Bird is making it, and he made the Iron Giant, and the Iron Giant is best. If you want to read that idea over and over again, please, have at these 900 or so words.



The Incredibles and the Iron Giant

You really don’t need much more of a reason to see “The Incredibles” (opening this Friday) other than that it’s a Pixar film. By now, we’ve all pretty much caught on that Pixar = Definitely Going to Be Great. “The Incredibles” distinguishes itself from the other Pixar films (The Toy Stories, A Bug’s Life, Monsters Inc., and Finding Nemo) in that it’s the first Pixar movie to star people . . . well, computer animated people, but people none the less. Add on top of this that these people are superheroes and, hey, it’s bound to be good right? (Law School Bonus: The film begins with all the superheroes being forced out of business because of all the litigation they’re getting dragged into because of the destruction that comes hand-in-hand with superheroing). Aside from the premise of the film and the production company involved, I can think of two extremely good reasons to see this movie as soon as possible.

First off, the trailer for the next Star Wars movie (Episode III: Revenge of the Sith) is going to be premiering with the film and, for those of us who’s faith in Star Wars wasn’t mortally wounded by “The Phantom Menace” and “Attack of the Clones”, this is something to be very excited for, an added bonus to the awesomeness that the Incredibles promises.

The other (and far better) reason to see the Incredibles? It was written and directed by Brad Bird. Well, one could say “Brad Bird is a writer and director of animated features who hasn’t had a movie come out for five years” or one could say “Brad Bird wrote and directed “The Iron Giant”” Now, from what I’ve experienced, mentioning the Iron Giant provokes one of two responses, either an “The Iron Giant, what’s that?” or “The Iron Giant?! That was a great movie!” If your response to mentioning the Iron Giant would fall with the latter, then you have no more to read--the man behind the Iron Giant is the man behind the Incredibles, now get to a theater. If your response would be included with the former category, please, continue reading if you like to read about great movies.

Released by Warner Brothers Animation in 1999 with next to no marketing to support it, the Iron Giant is easily the best animated film about a boy and his giant robot and arguably the best animated movie ever made. I know that’s quite the claim to make, but I don’t make it lightly. While I would just suggest (insist, in fact) that you just rent the movie to see how great it is, that’s not good journalism, so let me try to explain.

The Iron Giant is set in Maine during the duck and cover days of 1957 when all of America, particularly the coastal town where the movie takes place, is worried about Sputnik, the Russians, and the Bomb. The film’s main character, Hogarth Hughes, is the lonesome and awkward son of Annie Hughes (voiced by Jennifer Aniston, really), a Korean-War widow who works at the local diner. Hogarth’s the sort of kid who just can’t make friends at school whose Mom won’t let him get a pet, so he turns to science fiction movies and comic books for the friendship and entertainment he’s missing in real life. One night, while home alone, Hogarth discovers that his house’s antenna has been eaten . . . further investigation into what happened to the antenna leads Hogarth to discover, well, a gigantic robot (that would be the titular “Iron Giant”, voiced by Vin Diesel, really) living in the woods near his home.

The ensuing story involves Hogarth befriending the giant robot, trying to figure out where he came from, and engaging in E.T.-ish antics to hide the Iron Giant from his mother and from Kent Mansley, a G-man who has come to Hogarth’s town to investigate reported giant robot sightings (what, you expect a giant robot to show up in the town and Hogarth’s going to be the only person who notices?) Lessons are learned, thrills are had, laughter occurs, etc. etc.

While my plot synopsis might not win everyone over, you’re sure to find that watching the Iron Giant is no struggle. Like all great films (animated or live action) the Iron Giant has a soul which slowly wins you over as the characters become more and more real and their story more and more captivating. The film’s final act is thrilling, heart-stopping, and thoroughly unforgettable and I simply cannot recommend a movie more than I recommend the Iron Giant. It’s a shame that Warner Brothers never gave this movie much of a chance when it was released, it’s easy to imagine this film eventually earning the universal praise and recognition it deserves.

In light of how magnificently well Mr. Bird handled a film about a giant robot, I can’t wait to see what he manages to do with a movie about a family of superheroes. While I can’t imagine the Incredibles possessing the same amount of pathos as the Iron Giant (I’m being serious here), I’d loved to be proven wrong—this week there isn’t a movie I couldn’t be looking forward to more than the Incredibles, and there isn’t a movie I could recommend renting more than I recommend the Iron Giant.

What I didn't know when I was writing that article is that the Iron Giant Special Edition DVD is finally coming out on November 16! 8 Deleted Scenes? Oh man, that's cool.
And here's another reason that the Incredibles will be great: Sarah Vowell is voicing one of the characters, very interesting.
The Onion AV Club has a great interview with Brad Bird this week. You really ought to be read it. His consultant job on the Simpsons and everything sounds like about the greatest job there is in the universe.
Oh geeze I totally almost forgot. Like about a month and a half ago a very genius inside source at Warner Brothers sent me an original Iron Giant theatrical poster. It was pretty much the "Viva Tacos!" of September 2004. It's the same as the image up top and patiently awaits a proper framing--it deserves nothing else.

Best "What?!" of the Day

So, yeah, it's election day and I just received my big surprise for the day, and it has nothing to do with John Kerry or George Bush. I get these emails from Ticketmaster all the time with subjects like: "Don't Miss: Pedro the Lion Next Wednesday" that I tend to delete right away. Today I got a "Don't Miss: Modest Mouse next Tuesday" -- usually I'd delete such a thing, but I clicked it only to discover that Modest Mouse's opening band? The Buff Medways, a.k.a. Billy Childish's latest band who, as far as I know (and, on topics like this, I know pretty far) have never played in the US before. And while, in my book, the more traditional rock of the Medways has nothing on Thee Headcoats or Thee Mighty Caesars -- I find myself very close to buying tickets to a Modest Mouse concert. This is a lot like the time I went to see Dido because Travis was opening (whatever happened to Travis, anyway? I guess Coldplay went totally N*Sync on their Backstreet Boy). Still, I don't know Modest Mouse well, but I do know that they're better than Dido.

Best Consolidation of Weekend Into One Post

I spent all of last week posting about the weekend. Not going to do that again this week. Here, in one single post, is what happened this weekend. Wait, I take it back, later this week I'm going to post about the Walkmen show I went to last Friday. Okay, here, in one single post, is everything that happened over the weekend, not counting the Walkmen, which I'll post about later.

Saturday got off to an exciting start when I got a call from good old Sommer saying she was in the city and wanted to eat sushi. I only just recently found out that Sommer was living in New Haven, and I was doubly surprised to find her in my city. So we ate at the fabulously affordable West Side Sushi and talked about what we'd do the next time she was in town. Also, I met her roommate, Natalie, who took this photo of Sommer and I.



Later on I went to my first Halloween party of the night, a party for kids in Brooklyn that Patricia and Laura were throwing. There I discovered that little kids who I don't know make me really nervous. Who'd've guessed?

Margie and some cool kid:



Patricia and Cassandra, no little kids:



Then it was time for the "grown up" Halloween party. Hmm. Yawn. Just a little. But a good effort was made by all parties involved. Here's your pre-party shot of Joe as Cowboy, Karisa as Mother Karisa, Me as Butt-rocker, and Sariah as Holly Golightly.



Out on the street we catch a glimpse of master thief Keri in town from DC for troublemaking and heartbreaking.



Up at the party I take some pictures, but not many. For example, here we see SJ as TMNT:



Bryant, Don, and Brooke:



Jason as the Joker, wait, no, Spider-Man:



Ryan and Ammon:



Yeah, it would've been hard to stretch that over more than one day. What'd you expect? This isn't polaroidscene. (Quite possibly my greatest understatement ever)

Best.

In a world where tragic injustices and mass-scale wrongdoings are commonplace, at least one thing has been set right: I now have a t-shirt that says "Viva Tacos." While no photo can do the shirt justice, and sometimes I have a hard time looking normal in photographs, check this thing out:



So much the best thing in my closet right now.

Best After Party

Once the party began thinning out on Friday night the real party got rolling when we started passing my mustache around.

Here we see my mustache being used properly (my costume wasn't "Dictator on his Cell Phone", I just kept getting calls whenever cameras were out):



And here's mustache craziness run amuck:





It should be noted that Karisa's costume already included a mustache, but one just wasn't good enough for her:







You may not believe it, but that's the end of my week-long weekend roundup.

Best Lazy Saturday Afternoon of Adventure

So, the next morning after the party (meaning: around noon on Saturday) Karisa came over to start the day off by making us some super amazing vanilla cinnamon butter and brown sugar and pecan (or was it some other nut) french toast that she apparently learned to make in Hungry School. (That's my breakfast she's holding)



Some pictures turn out good:



Some pictures turn out perfect:



A little Harlem roughhousing:



If you couldn't tell already, after breakfast we made our way up through Harlem to the Cloisters. This is me and "the Cloisters":


Andrew is known for his animal statue imitations:



All that cloistering wore us out, so it was off to the Burger Joint for some hamburgering. The Burger Joint is the bomb dot com.



After this we all went home for early evening naps and then went to the spinning restaurant and well, we all know how that went.

Best Rumor Come True

So there really is a 60 GB color iPod that carries photos too, just like all the websites said there'd be. It weighs in at $600, hmm. My 20 is all filled up, but I'm still going to do my best to wait and see what's available in 2006.

AlsoI don't know how much I really care about U2, but this is still pretty cool--read about the online U2 Boxed Set, a deal's a deal, man.

Best of the Rest of the Revelers

More Dictator Party photos. Because everyone deserves their Dictator Party Props.

I can't believe this is the only picture I took of Larry Bird.


The Super Villain (she posed that way in every single picture), the News Reporter, and the Spelling Bee Champ.


News Reporter gets the story from the High School Coach on the big game.


There were two Scoundrels at the party, and when two Scoundrels run into each other, lots of really disrespectful stuff happens. Like mustache abuse.


And shoelace pranks.


The Burglar and the Cheerleader (yes, her nose says "Brigham").


One can't grasp the true perfection of the 50's House Wife (who just baked cookies) costume until they understand the outerwear involved.


Jedi Knight with Tennis Player in background. Real fake Katana action abounds.


The way-too creepy Vampire with a Cowlick and Robin Hood who can't see well.


Yo-Yo Champ does the durn thang.

Best Excerpt from an Email Received Today

How ethical is it for me to post excerpts from emails from friends without their permission? Hmm. Probably not very. But what if they're funny? I'm sure that makes it okay. Here's some choice lines from a choice email I just got.

Last night I watched the first half of "Spotless Heart," what's it called, "Clear Heart for an Endless Mind," "Queer Eye for the Spotless Guy"... dang it, my brain is not working right now.   Last night I watched the first half of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" (I literally had to Google search to figure out what I was talking about).  Anyways, that movie is so great (or at least the first half of it is) because about every five minutes it cuts to a scene where he's with his ex-girlfriend, and they're talking, and he says something completely condescending and offensive and she gets all mad. The prime example is when she tells him she wishes he would talk more because she wants more communication between them, and he says, "Talking constantly doesn't necessarily mean you're communicating a lot." And then of course she gets all offended. Man, I just completely related to every one of those conversations.

Please, everyone, don't stop emailing me just because I did this (especially you, Source.) Notice how anonymously I treated my source?

Best Childhood Dream Gone "ehh"

Keeping with the week's theme (which is: a review of the weekend's activities told completely out of order) Saturday night Andrew, Karisa, Sariah and I went to . . . okay, how exactly do I say this? We went to the rotating restaurant on top of the Marriott Marquis at Times Square. I know. Your first reaction: How Awesome. But here's the truth of the matter. It pains me to have any complaints about actually going to a rotating restaurant (sort of a lifelong dream of my own and I'm sure I'm not alone in that) but I can name a few things that weren't so great about the place . . . mostly everything. The theme of business up there seems to be "well, now that we've got you all the way up here (50+ stories above New York) what are you going to do if the service is pretty bad and the food all probably came from Costco?" [At least we had had Burger Joint for lunch] Also, and I can't believe how much this makes me sound like my mother, but the whole slowly revolving nature of the revolving restaurant (a lap an hour, pretty much) made me a little, uhm, motion sick? But on the plus side, there's nothing quite like rocketing up (and then down) the Marquis' enormous atrium (somesay the biggest in the world) in their great glass elevators, that's an experience that makes the rest of the experience worth it . . . pretty much.

I would have never guessed I'd have anything negative to say about a spinning restaurant. I've grown up into my Uncle Frank. At least the company was off the charts and the letdown of the place kept the quips coming all too quickly. I think the best indication of how the visit went is that only two photos were taken. Two killer photos.


Here Sariah points out that her Costco delicacy was topped with an "S." At first we thought it was probably an "s" for Sariah (naturally) but it turns out it probably stood for something else, something a little more negative.


Money makes the world (and the restaurant) go round.

UPDATE Culled from her comment, I don't want anyone to miss how perfectly Sariah summed up our Marquis visit: The highlight was when the waitress pointed the Empire State building out to us--then we knew we were really somewhere special. Or sassy. Or stupendous. Or. . . Exactly. Our waitress pointed out the Empire State Building to us, this pretty much settles that the spinning restaurant is used to out-of-town dupes and we had really lowered the bar for ourselves by going so high up in the air.

Best Weekend of Too Much Content

Old Roommate Andrew came out to New York for the weekend. Too much adventuring ensued. As I have lots of law to attend to this week, proper blogging could be a long time coming. But here are a few photos from the Dictatorial Costume Party to indicate where we'll be headed. (What's a Dictatorial Costume Party? A costume party where you're told what to wear. And since I was throwin the party, I was dictating the costumes. Stern, yet fair. Look out for Dictatorial Costume Parties to replace 80s Proms as the hot theme party for 2005)

First off, the Dictator, the Super Villain (Soup-er Villain), and the 1950's Housewife.



Now, here's Jason valiantly defending his choice to be a yellow Ninja Turtle. Notice scoundrel-ly lurking in background.



Punky Brewster and Jem:



Snow White and the Tennis Pro:



Events that Need to Be Accounted For: Peep, Prada, French Toast, Washington Heights Harvest Festival, Cloisters, Burger Joint, Successful Spinning Restaurant Fiasco, and Fake Mustaches. Lots and lots of Fake Mustaches.

Best Reason to Check Friendster?

Dude. Friendster just told me its Pete's birthday. Happy Birthday, Pete. I didn't know Friendster would do that. (For those of you wondering how Friendster told me, Pete has appeared at the top of my list of friends with a pink cake icon by his picture . . . wait, maybe Friendster is just telling me that Pete has eaten some cake?)

Best Evidence that I'm About to Fandango

As if I needed a reason to be any more excited to see The Incredibles as soon as it opens (Nov. 5, yo.), it's now official: the
first trailer for Episode III will be attached to it, just as I had hoped it would be. (Rewind three years to 2001: I'm in San Francisco with Andrew and Andrea, heavily insinuating we should go see the just-opened Monsters, Inc. because the Attack of the Clones trailer is playing with it.) So, how soon can I pre-order my tickets?

And no, I don't belong to Hyperspace and I won't be watching the trailer on my computer the night before. If I'm super strong, I won't watch it on TV either, I'll try (so hard) to hold out for the big screen.

Be advised that before the Incredibles comes out I'll be posting a treatise on the main reason to be excited for the Incredibles: its ties with the creator of the best animated movie there is, the Iron Giant.

Best Near Avoidance of Celebrity

I narrowly evaded running into Uma Thurman yet again on my way to and from work tonight as she was filming (still) her movie Prime (this would be my 3rd Prime run in) across the street at the B Bar. I was feeling pretty cocky, thinking I had pulled a fast one on her (and famous people in general) except Kanye West nearly ran into me as he dashed across Broadway to go into Atrium just as it was closing. It was a timely encounter with Mr. West, because I'm finally tired of listening to the College Dropout. You had a good run, College Dropout.

Update I stole this picture from a site that stole it from a site who probably stole it from another site. It'll serve to answer the question some readers have asked me, "Who's Kanye West?" and for those that know who he is, it'll serve for a chuckle.



(Kanye would be on the one on the right, smarty.)

Wait a second, what?

I had to find out from the Onion(right column) that Jacques Derrida died over a week ago? I blame this entirely on law school, not having friends who are totally into philosophy anymore, and the fact that I didn't even think to investigate why the Film Forum was playing the Derrida documentary from a couple years ago this weekend. And I never even had the decency to finish Limited Inc.