July 12, 2005
DEAR SPRING, WINTER AND AUTUMN—SORRY!
Hearing Jay-Z on the radio—"Dear Summer," credited to forklift Memphis Bleek—made me think several things: 1. Who is the current, sitting, elected president? 2. Are things not being run if the person who runs things has refused to run things? 3. What do things do when they are not being run?
Bobby Abreu—I'm just saying. The Home Run Derby is sort of pretarded, but that was uncanny, how the balls just kept going out of the park, like Abreu was just one of us, watching the action and sipping on a SnoCone.
If you want the best yogurt, go to Greece. The deli guys across the street gave me this tip. And all I know is I can't stop eating Fage. I am afraid to look at the ingredients, because I think this stuff is just the Greek equivalent of Devon's clotted cream, and the idea that this thick, white magic is "yogurt" is just some convenient fiction that nobody wants to dismantle. I mean, it's as stiff as spackle. (I have a tub of the "0% fat" version. I have not tried it. I suppose when the other stuff is done, I'll have no choice.)
Thanks to Jason Cherkis and "Nick Sylvester" for the kind words.
Posted by Sasha at July 12, 2005 10:21 AM | TrackBack