Some gentle words on DADT and the pols supporting it.

Miss Florida  2007-2011, Charlie Crist, opposes the repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell because

“We are a nation at war. The governor believes the current policy has worked, and there is no need to make changes.”

Oh yes, bitch, it’s an absolute model policy that forces those who wish to defend the Consitution to lie and conceal in order to do so and kicks out people we actually need in the endless War on Tara (oh, except one of the kids in the linked tale of woe was “allowed” to stay in Iraq until the end of his tour before being discharged because a fag in the sand is worth two Freepers in the basement).

Charlie Crist married in 1979 for less than a year. And married again in 2008 when she thought it might help her get the VP nomination on the Republican ticket. She also loves the cock. Allegedly, FWIW.

Fuck her. And if John McCain wasn’t already sucking it, he can resume doing so now ( and by “it” I mean Lindsey Graham).

Only 32 days until Gay Christmas (based on the novel Push by Sapphire)!

Oscar nominations are in. My predictions follow.

Best Supporting Actress
Penelope Cruz, Nine
Vera Farmiga, Up in the Air
Maggie Gyllenhaal, Crazy Heart
Anna Kendrick, Up in the Air
Mo’nique, Precious

Skinny bitches are evil. Congratulations, Mo’nique.

Best Supporting Actor
Matt Damon, Invictus
Woody Harrelson, The Messenger
Christopher Plummer, The Last Station
Stanley Tucci, The Lovely Bones
Christoph Waltz, Inglourious Basterds

As go the Globes, so goes Oscar? Maybe. Chrisoph Waltz.

Best Actress
Sandra Bullock, The Blind Side
Helen Mirren, The Last Station
Carey Mulligan, An Education
Gabourey Sidibe, Precious
Meryl Streep, Julie & Julia

My heart says Meryl, but I’m pretty sure its Sandy B. in a walk. For a shitty movie.

Best Actor
Jeff Bridges, Crazy Heart
George Clooney, Up in the Air
Colin Firth, A Single Man
Morgan Freeman, Invictus
Jeremy Renner, The Hurt Locker

Jeff Bridges, done and done.

Best Director
James Cameron, Avatar
Kathryn Bigelow, The Hurt Locker
Quentin Tarantino, Inglourious Basterds
Lee Daniels, Precious
Jason Reitman, Up in the Air

I’m calling a split Director/Picture this year. Katherine Bigelow gives the finger to her ex and walks home with a small golden man.

Original Screenplay
Mark Boal, The Hurt Locker
Quentin Tarantino, Inglourious Basterds
Alessandro Camon & Oren Moverman, The Messenger
Joel & Ethan Coen, A Serious Man
Pete Docter, Bob Peterson, & Thomas McCarthy, Up

It’s been a couple of years since the Coen brothers took home awards for Directing and Picture for No Country for Old Men. And the Academy loves them some Coen.

Adapted Screenplay
Neil Blomkamp & Terri Tatchell, District 9
Nick Hornby, An Education
Jesse Armstrong, Simon Blackwell, Armando Ianucci, & Tony Roche, In the Loop
Geoffrey Fletcher, Precious
Jason Reitman & Sheldon Turner, Up in the Air

I’m pulling for District 9.

Foreign Language Film
Ajami (Israel)
El secreto de sus ojos (Argentina)
The Milk of Sorrow (Peru)
Un Prophete (France)
The White Ribbon (Germany)

Seriously, who cares? I’ll go with the Krauts.

Animated Film
Coraline
Fantastic Mr. Fox
The Princess and the Frog
The Secret of Kells
Up

Up, up and away.

Best Picture
Avatar
The Blind Side
District 9
An Education
The Hurt Locker
Inglourious Basterds
Precious
A Serious Man
Up
Up in the Air

Duh. Congratulations, Avatar.

Happy 84th birthday, Elaine Stritch!

You may know her as Jack Donaghy’s mother on 30 Rock, but before that she was the toast of Broadway (and one of our more famous high-functioning alcoholics), famous for originating the role of Joanne in Company. Well into her 70s in the video below, she can still sell a song.

I wantsssssss it.

As expected, the Apple iPad was announced today. When the iPod arrived on the scene, my curiousity was piqued, but I waited a couple of years before buying one and when I did, it was cheaper, smaller and as awesome as I anticipated. After buying it, I regretted waiting so long; most days it’s the only thing standing between my sanity and murdering every single person in my office.

Then the iPhone came out and it looked awesome, but I had a free Blackberry and a ridiculously cheap service plan subsidized by The Work. I still find it to be a pretty impressive device but have no real desire to own one. And being locked into AT&T’s service makes my balls shrink up into my chest cavity.

But the iPad? I crave and want and need. Web browsing, email, books, games, watching my stories? All without a 250-degree laptop melting my sack to my thigh? And all those fun little apps iPhone users are always so desperate to show me? Ah, sweet mystery of life, have I found you at last.

I’m sorely tempted to slap down $829 for the top-of-the-line model, first day out. Well, second day. Because I’ve seen the folks that show up for releases at the Apple store, and they’re not my folks. Maybe 60 days out, I’ll have a bit of perspective and decide to wait until the price comes down. But Apple groped my inner fanboy today. Jobs, well done.

OH, and another thing. I’m officially banning the iPad/maxi-pad meme; 98% of blogs covered this In The First Five Minutes, it was never even mildly amusing and now let’s put it to bed.

ALSO, Steve Jobs, if you can afford the liver of a 12-year old Indonesian, you can afford to shop at a non-mom-jeans store. Look into this. Maybe develop an iPant to take us boldy in 2011.

The Cable Car.

This is my friend Patterson’s favorite cocktail. When I know he’s coming I usually have the ingredients in the shaker awaiting ice and a good shake so he can be sipping it as soon as he’s finished saying hello to the dogs (they adore him). We first sampled it at the bar in the lobby of the Bellagio on a recent trip to Vegas. Upon arriving home, we looked at recipes on the internet and cobbled this one together.

• 1.5 oz Kilo Kai spiced rum
• .5 oz orange curacao (I swap in Gran Gala)
• .5 oz lemon juice (lime, if you prefer)
• .5 oz simple syrup
• Cinnamon sugar for garnish

Rim your cocktail glass with cinnamon-sugar by running a bit of lemon around the rim to moisten and the gently rolling in a plate of the sugar mixture. Shake all liquid ingredients together with ice and strain into the prepared cocktail glass.

Happy snow-day’s eve.

Two things piqued my interest today. Well, three, but I doubt you’ll find my nightcap all that entertaining. So go read this fantastic Up-With-America essay in the Times written by a nice young foreign gentleman which gave me a warm fuzzy:

When I finally got to America myself, I found that not only were the natives friendly and hospitable, they were also incredibly polite. No one tells you this about Americans, but once you notice it, it becomes one of their defining characteristics, especially when they’re abroad.

This is very strange, or at least it says something strange about the way that perception routinely conforms to the preconceptions it would appear to contradict. The archetypal American abroad is perceived as loud and crass even though actually existing American tourists are distinguished by the way they address bus drivers and bartenders as “sir” and are effusive in their thanks when any small service is rendered. We look on with some confusion at these encounters because, on the one hand, the Americans seem a bit country-bumpkinish, and, on the other, good manners are a form of sophistication.

And then there’s this.

Now the only way it could be better is if Mike Rowe were administrating the enema while wearing nothing but a leather harness and a smile.

So, like I said. Happy snow-day’s eve!

Happy *ack*ack*ack* new year.

New Year’s Eve was a bust. I had a fever of 101.5 and terrible sinus drainage, a belated Christmas gift from family. Feeling moderately better today, but have cancelled Sunday brunch since I don’t want to spread the Ick to all of my suburban friends. It’s especially sucky as I had scheduled vacation this week and nothing’s more disappointing than having time off and spending the majority of it in bed with your legs decidedly not in the air.

On the plus side, on the couple of days that I actually was feeling decent, I was able to break in the new canning equipment my folks got me. I made 4 pints of pickled green beans for future Bloody Mary & martini garnishing and several jars of Vanilla-Bourbon Peach Jam to give as gifts. Canning is pretty darned cool and I’m really looking forward to City Market time.

I’ve tivo’d the Anderson Cooper/Kathy Griffin NYE extravaganza (I understand she topped last year’s “slap the dick out of your mouth” comment with an F-bomb) so I’ve got that to look forward to.

This is how you get in front of a story.

Hearne Christopher Jr. charged for allegedly getting lit and rolling through the ol’ PV. Who broke the story? Hearne Christopher Jr, duh. Because say what you will about the guy (major asshole, allegedly), he knows how to get ahead of the spin.

I don’t know if the po-po was flash-and-banging from the sight of the original incident (77th & Booth per Jr.) or not, but either way I don’t blame Jr. for carrying on until his car was safely ensconced in his own driveway because tow-and-impound charges can be a motherfucker.

A cursory search of Google News tells me the only media outlets to report on this so far (aside from HCJ’s blog) are the Plog (12 hours ago) and the Star (7 hours ago, because the 2 reporters left in that joint were probably busy with real-ish news). Did this make the local TV news? I don’t watch that crap ever since that our-reporter’s-trapped-in-a-burning-building shit because those d-bags are total hacks and unworthy of any attention whatsoever and also because ask around about a certain aging male Fox 4 reporter’s (alleged) shenanigans which are never reported on, just sayin’.

So, anyway, point being is when I’m arrested for being spit-roasted by an illegal immigrant and local radio host in a very public park(which I may or may not do regularly, allegedly) you, dear subscribers, will read it here first because Hearne has shown me the way. Praise blawgs!

UTAH: Testing the tensile strength of gullibility for over 100 years!

Betty Bowers for the win.

Thanksgiving, Episode I

Ladybird and I are hosting a Thanksgiving dinner for 25ish of our nearest and dearest tomorrow. We’ve split up a lot of the work and I’m very jazzed about how things are turning out. We’ve made a few concessions due to time, but the food’s going to be so tremendous, i don’t think anyone will mind drinking out of a plastic cup.

I’m providing dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, braised mushrooms, a congealed salad (a fixture on my mother’s T-day table, recipe below the fold), a dip for the appetizer spread and two cocktails (pomegranate-rosemary champagne punch and celery juleps for the hard liquor crowd.

So far, I’ve made my mom’s (via Gramma Great) Orange Fluffy Salad, recipe below the fold:

The Make-Ahead Mashed Potatoes, currently in the fridge in my largest Le Creuset buffet casserole:

And the syrups for the cocktails (celery syrup below, a beautiful vivid green):